We placed in the Exhibition portrait models not only of Stanley, attired in a facsimile of the explorer’s suit worn by him on the occasion of the historic meeting, but also one of Dr. Livingstone himself. Probably many more persons have gazed upon the figure of Livingstone in the Exhibition than ever paid a pilgrimage to see his final resting-place in Westminster Abbey. Together with the model of Stanley was placed a figure of his boy, Kalulu, concerning whom the explorer wrote a book in 1873 (_My Kalulu_). * * * * * [Illustration: NAPOLEON III.] The death of Napoleon III in the January of this year was associated with one of the most impressive tableaux in the long history of Madame Tussaud’s. The Emperor was represented as lying in state, and I find myself still wondering as to the identity of a tall, stately lady, dressed in black and wearing a thick veil, who came to the Exhibition on several occasions, bringing a bunch of violets which she placed on the steps of the catafalque, after having obtained a vase containing water in which to put the flowers. [Illustration: THE PRINCE IMPERIAL Son of Napoleon III., killed by the Zulus on Whit Monday, 1879. From the painting by Pichat.] The son of the Emperor Louis Napoleon, the Prince Imperial, who was killed in the Zulu War, was made the subject of an equestrian memorial at Madame Tussaud’s some years later. The tableau closely conformed with authentic details of the Prince’s attempt to mount his horse and escape from the Zulu hordes, who pierced him with many assegais. It had been suggested in the House of Commons that an effigy to his memory should be erected in the Abbey, in view of the fact that the young Bonaparte died in one of England’s wars while serving under English officers. A reference in _Punch_ to this proposal suggested that a much more suitable repository for a memorial would be Madame Tussaud’s along with the other memorials of the Bonaparte period on view there. CHAPTER XXV Count Léon--The Shah of Persia’s visit--A weird suggestion; no response--King Koffee--Cetewayo. About this time I met Count Léon, the natural son of Napoleon the Great. The Count was then nearing seventy years of age, and had taken refuge in this country after the great _débâcle_ of 1870. He lived in modest lodgings at Camden Town, and to pay his way set about selling the last remaining relics of the Imperial Family he had in his possession. In a diary I now have before me I find that my father visited him on the 31st of January, 1873, the Count having expressed a wish to show him the family heirlooms, with the view to their finding a permanent resting-place among the many Napoleonic memorials at Madame Tussaud’s.