It seems that the young Duke had not realized his danger. A term of imprisonment, at most, was all he feared. In vain the court-martial endeavored to hint at the fatal consequence of the admissions he was making. Unconscious of the fact that he was convicting himself, he repeated the statements that he had borne arms against France, that he had been in the pay of England, that he had tampered with French soldiers on the Rhine, that he had been instructed to place himself near the Rhine where he could enter France, arms in hand, and be ready for the part he was to play; and that he intended to continue to bear arms against the government of France which he regarded as a usurpation. It must not be forgotten that in sending the Duke d’Enghien before a court-martial, Napoleon had before him certain documentary evidence which we do not now possess. The Duke’s own papers, Talleyrand’s opinion, and the reports of certain officials disappeared from the archives after the Bourbons returned in 1814--just as the documentary evidence against Marie Antoinette was destroyed, and the letters which crowned heads of Europe had written Napoleon stolen and carried away. Peculiarly awful must have been the vision of sudden death to this youthful prince of the blood-royal, as he was dragged from bed in the dismal darkness of early morning, and hurried to face a file of silent soldiers beside an open grave. After the first shock and outcry of amazement, the courage in which his race has rarely been wanting came to the condemned, and he met his fate with a soldier’s nerve. In 1805, during the march upon Vienna, Napoleon received at his bivouac M. de Thiard, who had known d’Enghien well. For a long while the Emperor sat talking with this officer, asking many questions about the Duke, and listening with interest to all that was told him. “He was really a man, then, that prince?” he asked, and this casual remark was his sole comment.