ndows in town were
shattered, and a great number of the inhabitants, who for want of beds
were sleeping upon tables, were thrown to the floor, and awakened by the
fall without comprehending what had happened. In ten minutes everybody
was stirring, as it was thought that the English were in the port; and
there ensued such confusion, such a mingled tumult of noises and screams,
that no one could make himself understood, until criers preceded by drums
were sent through the town to reassure the inhabitants, and inform them
that all danger was past.

The next day songs were composed on this nocturnal alarm, and were soon
in every mouth.

Another alarm, but of an entirely different kind, upset all Boulogne in
the autumn of 1804. About eight o'clock in the evening a chimney caught
fire on the right of the port; and the light of this fire, shining
through the masts of the flotilla, alarmed the commandant of a post on
the opposite shore. At this time all the vessels had powder and
ammunition on board; and the poor commandant, beside himself with terror,
cried, "Boys, the fleet is on fire;" and immediately had the alarm
beaten. The frightful news spread like lightning; and in less than half
an hour more than sixty thousand men appeared upon the wharves, the
tocsin was sounded in all the churches, the forts fired alarm guns, while
drums and trumpets sounded along the streets, the whole making an
infernal tumult.

The Emperor was at headquarters when this terrible cry, "The fleet is on
fire," came to his ears. "It is impossible!" he immediately exclaimed,
but, nevertheless, rushed out instantly.

On entering the town, what a frightful spectacle we beheld. Women in
tears, holding their children in their arms, ran like lunatics, uttering
cries of despair, while men abandoned their houses, carrying off whatever
was most valuable, running against and knocking each other over in the
darkness. On all sides was heard, "Mauve qui peat; we are going to be
blown up, we are all lost;" and the maledictions, lamentations,
blasphemies, were sufficient to make your hair stand on end.

The aides-de-camp of his Majesty and those of Marshal Soult galloped in
every direction, forcing their way through the crowds, stopping the
drummers, and asking them, "Why do you beat the alarm? Who has ordered
you to beat the alarm?"--"We don't know," they replied; and the drums
continued to beat, while the tumult kept on increasing, and the crowd
rushed to t