have probably played a great part in the world.  He died of a premature decay, brought on, apparently, by over-exertion and over-excitement; his talents were very conspicuous, he was ‘petri d’ambition’, worshipped the memory of his father, and for that reason never liked his mother; his thoughts were incessantly turned towards France, and when he heard of the Days of July (overthrow of Charles X.) he said, “Why was I not there to take my chance?  He evinced great affection and gratitude to his grandfather, who, while he scrupulously observed all his obligations towards Louis Philippe, could not help feeling a secret pride in the aspiring genius of Napoleon’s son.  He was well educated, and day and night pored over the history of his father’s glorious career.  He delighted in military exercises, and not only shone at the head of his regiment, but had already acquired the hereditary art of ingratiating himself with the soldiers.”  Esterhazy went on to describe how the Duke abandoned everything at a ball when he met there Marshals Marmont and Maison.”  He had no eyes or ears but for them; from nine in the evening to five the next morning he devoted himself to these Marshals.”  There was the true Napoleonic ring in his answer to advice given by Marmont when the Duke said that he would not allow himself to be put forward by the Sovereigns of Europe.  “The son of Napoleon should be too great to serve as an instrument; and in events of that nature I wish not to be an advanced guard, but a reserve,—­that is, to come as a succour, recalling great memories.”

His death in 1832, on the 22d of July, the anniversary of the battle of Salamanca, solved many questions.  Metternich visited the Duke on his deathbed:  “It was a heartrending sight.  I never remember to have seen a more mournful picture of decay.”  When Francis was told of the death of his grandson he answered, “I look upon the Duke’s death as a blessing for him.  Whether it be detrimental or otherwise to the public good I do not know.  As for myself, I shall ever lament the loss of my grandson.”

Josephine was in her grave at Rueil when Napoleon returned.  She had died on the 29th of May 1814, at Malmaison, while the Allies were exhibiting themselves in Paris.  It seems hard that she should not have lived to enjoy a triumph, however brief, over her Austrian rival.  “She, at least,” said Napoleon truly, “would never have abandoned me.”

Josephine’s daughter, Hortense, separated from her husband, Louis Bonaparte, and created Duchess of St Leu by Louis XVIII., was in Paris, much suspected by the Bourbons, but really engaged in a lawsuit with her husband about the custody of her sons.  She had to go into hiding when the news of the landing arrived, but her empty house, left unwatched, became very useful for receiving the Bonapartists, who wished for a place of concealment, amongst them, as we shall see, being, of all people, Fouche!  Hortense was met by Napoleon with some reproaches for accepting