ch courage, officers, soldiers, sailors, and citizens
now began to lend their aid, some swimming, others in boats; but, alas!
they succeeded in saving--only a very small number of the unfortunate men
who composed the crews of the gunboats, and the next day the sea cast
upon the shore more than two hundred men, and with them the hat of the
conqueror of Marengo.

The next was a day of mourning and of grief, both in Boulogne and the
camp. The inhabitants and soldiers covered the beach, searching
anxiously among the bodies which the waves incessantly cast upon the
shore; and the Emperor groaned over this terrible calamity, which in his
inmost heart he could not fail to attribute to his own obstinacy. By his
orders agents entrusted with gold went through the city and camp,
stopping the murmurs which were ready to break forth.

That day I saw a drummer, who had been among the crew of the shipwrecked
vessels, washed upon the shore upon his drum, which lie had used as a
raft. The poor fellow had his thigh broken, and had remained more than
twenty hours in that horrible condition.

In order to complete in this place my recollections of the camp of
Boulogne, I will relate the following, which did not take place, however,
until the month of August, 1805, after the return of the Emperor from his
journey to Italy, where he had been crowned.

Soldiers and sailors were burning with impatience to embark for England,
but the moment so ardently desired was still delayed. Every evening they
said to themselves, "Tomorrow there will be a good wind, there will also
be a fog, and we shall start," and lay down with that hope, but arose
each day to find either an unclouded sky or rain.

One evening, however, when a favorable wind was blowing, I heard two
sailors conversing together on the wharf, and making conjectures as to
the future. "The Emperor would do well to start tomorrow morning," said
one; "he will never have better weather, and there will surely be a fog."
--"Bah!" said the other, "only he does not think so. We have now waited
more than fifteen days, and the fleet has not budged; however, all the
ammunition is on board, and with one blast of the whistle we can put to
sea."

The night sentinels came on, and the conversation of the old sea-wolves
stopped there; but I soon had to acknowledge that their nautical
experience had not deceived them. In fact, by three o'clock in the
morning, a light fog was spread over the sea, which wa