Eastern times. [volume] (Bath, Me.) 1846-1857, 1854-04-06
Written for the Eastern Times,
Louis Napoleon at Boulogne.

i years, icdNulS lor YOUR lndglndlOh hio odh-
ishment TO America. merely remembering
that it is now pretty generally conceded that
he never gave his promise not to return to
Europe. | imagine him again traversing the
passes of Switzerland towards the death-bed
of his mother, filled with the same love he
had always manifested, and which alone would
have induced him to mingle in scenes SO ill
starred to his cause. sNo cord or cable can
draw forcibly Or bind SO fast as love can do,
with only single thread" not even ambi-
ton. He reached his mother just in time to
receive her last embrace. A few moments
before she expired, she stretched out her
hand in calm resignation to bid farewell to all
the members of this household, who were
weeping around her couch. Profound silence
reigned in the chamber of death. Hortense
turned slowly towards her son and her ever
faithful Doctor Carneau, saying in feeble
voice, ''You are very unfortunate, my chill
dren! farewell, Louis FAREWELL" Her son
threw himself into her arms she pressed him
to her bosom and with the last of failing
|
then falling back exhausted, her noble figure
assumed angelic serenity, and her eyelids
closed in endless sleep. Her son hung over
her, his features disturbed with anguish, and
in voice which he vainly attempted to rem
der calm, said, "Mother, do you know me
Iii your son-your Louis-my mother!''
She made great exertion to speak, but the soul
was only fluttering for moment in its earthly
God who gave it. The interval between the
death of his mother and the expedition to Bou-
logne was passed by prince Louis in literary
pursuits. from the lethargy of which he was
awakened by the announcement that the king
of the French was taking steps to force him
from Switzerland, which the spirited little
canton of Berne repealed as an arrogant requi-
sition. Either impeled by desire for quiet,
by fear, or by reluctance to cause any trouble
to his alma mater, he sold his estate and went
to England, the fountain Of half the bitter wa
tiers he was drinking. Two years he spent in
the unhappy life of exile, which is always full
vi Impatient IOnSlnSS lot u Ieturn.
4" Poor harrassed. hunted exile thou
Mayst well thy wine with tears be drinking.
In the year 1899, events seemed to call him
forth again. The mission had been appointed
to 60 and seek for the ashes Of the Emperor,
in order to transport them to France, to be
buried with imperial pomp. The enthusiasm
once having been excited, became so strong
that the populace shouted for the Prince TO
take his proper place in those ceremonies in
which the whole nation was to act as mourn
ers. They said, "The sacred ashes of our
French Caesar are crossing the sea, and will
not our young Octavius come to convey them
back to Rome 90 By strange coincidence,
the same regiment which the Prince has
known at Strasburgh, were garrisoned in the
northern towns of France so everything
seemed to invite the expedition which once
more ruined his plans and blighted his hopes.
The "world" has so little idea Of the failure
at Boulogne, that it appears more insignificant
than 1t really is. 1t is generally supposed that
an unarmed steamer appeared off BoulOgne,
from which Napoleon and his staff landed.
Then there was little skirmish which ended
in the capture of the Prince and in fact, was
about as terrifying as a college rebellion, or
petty civil mob So ridiculous did it seem,
that the wits of the day found a subject which
should take the place of the often cited Don
Quixote. One Of the many stories (from the
mouth of Court D'Orsay) is sufficiently well
authenticated 10 be repeated. The steamer
carrying the expedition, stopped to take up
its compliment at Gravesend, and as might
very well happen in this crowded seaport,
sailor was standing on the quay with an eagle
to sell-a speculation Of his own. ''Voila
une belle idee," exclaimed one of the spricht-
ly cavaliers, whose invention was sharpened
by bottle of Slley Monseux, ''here's good
idea-I1l buy this eagle and fly it over Bou-
logne. The green grocers who will likely
assail us, will imagine it has been Matched by
an Emperor's monument, and drop their mus
kets in awe and wonder" 1t is unnecessary
to say that the experiment was never tried
The two regiments quartered at Boulogne
favored the insurgent cause, but at the head of
one was a captain, whom, having received
some benefits from the king, and consequently
being proyokingly loyal, it was necessary to
have removed TO some other spot which was
accordingly attempted. Some mistake, how
ever, prevented his departure as will be seen
In the sequel. On the 9th of August, 1910,
the day after the supposed departure of the
aforesaid loyal captain, the Prince landed with
his suite at sunrise. When the soldiers heard
of his arrival, they rushed into the courtyard,
and bore him off on their shoulders Press
ing on from Boulogne to St. Omer where the
garrison was to await them, the brandished
swords and loud cries testified that the same
feeling which always. had welcomed Napo-
leon, still remained characteristic of the
French. AT the gate Of the barracks their
march was checked by the apparition of the
aforementioned officer, who, getting wind of
the insurrection, FASTENED to smother it. His
troops quailed before the voice whose summons
had been law, as he drew his sword and be-
gan spirited harangue.
Meanwhile, the royalists were assembling
the National Guard, and The moment was be-
coming critical in the extreme. Advancing