On this 3rd of August, 1849, Étienne Le Petit has just died in his adopted town of Boulogne-sur-Mer. He will forever remain in the hearts of his loved ones, but also in those of the people of Boulogne.
During his lifetime, I had had the pleasure of meeting him on several occasions. In 1803, he had granted me an interview on the very site where he had served Emperor Napoleon I. At great length, he had explained to me his role as a military draughtsman: the flat-bottomed boats, the new plans for the port of Boulogne, his return to civilian life, his attachment to this region, and his desire to work and build a family. I had been impressed by his confidence and his youth. I had had no difficulty imagining for him a prosperous life in this beautiful region.
It was in 1840, during Louis-Napoléon Bonaparte’s attempted coup, that I saw Étienne again. He had been accompanied by his son Joseph. They had been confronted by a protester. We therefore had had the opportunity to meet once more. Étienne had reached the age of fifty-four, while I, a chimera, was still thirty years old. Upon seeing me, he had hesitated for a moment. He had looked at me for a long while. But he had quickly dismissed the idea: same name, same elegance, but she would have been my age now, perhaps even older.
I had also spent time with him during family gatherings where I had always had the pleasure of being invited — and indeed, I still am.
On this day, I follow the coffin. Joséphine is being supported by her sons Joseph and Étienne. I take the arm of Joséphine, his only daughter, the apple of his eye. She welcomes my support with a faint smile. Her eyes are red and swollen. After the funeral, we all gather at the family home at 28 Rue du Temple.
Étienne is the first Le Petit to be buried in Boulogne-sur-Mer.
I tried to use the past perfect in this text, which is not easy as it is a tense that is gradually disappearing.
A rebrousse temps généalogie 