It was now openly circulated that England and the exiled Bourbons had been detected in a base plot for murdering the Chief Consul; that the proof of their guilt was in the hands of the government, and would soon be made public.  The Duke de Berri himself, it was added, had been prepared to land on the west coast of France, whenever Pichegru or Cadoudal should inform him that the time was come; while another of the royal exiles lay watching the event, and in readiness to profit by it, on the other side, immediately behind the Rhine.

The name of this last prince, the heir of Conde, well known for the brilliant gallantry of his conduct while commanding the van of his grandfather’s little army of exiles, and beloved for many traits of amiable and generous character, had hardly been mentioned in connection with these rumours, ere the inhabitants of Paris heard, in one breath, with surprise and horror, that the Duke d’Enghien had been arrested at Ettenheim, and tried and executed within sight of their own houses at Vincennes.  This story will ever form the darkest chapter in the history of Napoleon.

The duke had his residence at a castle in the Duchy of Baden, where, attended by a few noble friends, the partakers of his exile, he was chiefly occupied with the diversions of the chase.  On the evening of the 14th of March, a troop of French soldiers and gens-d’armes, under Colonel Ordonner (who derived his orders from Caulaincourt) suddenly passed the frontier into the independent territory of Baden, surrounded the Castle of Ettenheim, rushed into the apartment of the prince, and seized him and all his company.  He would have used his arms, but his attendants, representing the overpowering number of the assailants, persuaded him to yield without resistance.  He was forthwith conveyed to the citadel of Strasburg, and separated from all his friends except one aide-de-camp, the Baron de St. Jaques, and allowed no communication with any one else.  After being here confined three days, he was called up at midnight on the 18th and informed that he must prepare for a journey.  He desired to have the assistance of his valet-de-chambre, and was refused:  they permitted him to pack up two shirts, and the journey immediately begun.

The duke reached Paris early on the 20th; and after lying a few hours in the Temple, was removed to the neighbouring Castle of Vincennes, used for ages as a state prison.  Being much fatigued he fell asleep, but was presently roused, and his examination forthwith commenced.  Weary and wholly unprepared as he must have been, the unfortunate prince conducted himself throughout in such a manner as to command the respect of his inquisitors.  He at once avowed his name and his services in the army of Conde, but utterly denied all knowledge of Pichegru and his designs.  To this the whole of his evidence (and there was no evidence but his own) amounted; and having given it; he earnestly demanded an audience of the Consul.  “My name,” said he, “my rank, my sentiments, and the peculiar distress of my situation, lead me to hope that this request will not be refused.”