Let me now skip over at a bound some twelve months of my life,—not that they were to me without their chances and their changes, but they were such as are incidental to all boyhood,—and present myself to my reader as the scholar at the Polytechnique. What a change had the time, short as it was, worked in all my opinions! how completely had I unlearned all the teaching of my early instructor, poor Darby! how had I been taught to think that glory was the real element of war, and that its cause was of far less moment than its conduct!

The enthusiasm which animated every corps of the French army, and was felt through every fibre of the nation, had full sway in the little world of the military school. There, every battle was known and conned over; we called every spot of our playground by some name great in the history of glory; and among ourselves we assumed the titles of the heroes who shed such lustre on their country; and thus in all our boyish sports our talk was of the Bridge of Lodi, Arcole, Rivoli, Castiglione, the Pyramids, Mount Tabor. While the names of Kleber, Kellerman, Massena, Desaix, Murat, were adopted amongst us, but one name only remained unappropriated; and no one was bold enough to assume the title of him whose victories were the boast of every tongue. If this enthusiasm was general amongst us, I felt it in all its fullest force, for it came untinged with any other thought. To me there was neither home nor family; my days passed over in one unbroken calm,—no thought of pleasure, no hope of happiness, when the fÊte day came round. My every sense was wrapped up in the one great desire,—to be a soldier; to have my name known among those great men whose fame was over Europe; to be remembered by him whose slightest word of praise was honor itself. When should that day come for me? When should I see the career open before me? These were my earliest waking thoughts, my last at nightfall.

If the intensity of purpose, the strong current of all my hopes, formed for me an ideal and a happy world within me, yet did it lend a trait of seriousness to my manner that seemed like melancholy; and while few knew less what it was to grieve, a certain sadness in me struck my companions, on which they often rallied me, but which I strove in vain to conquer. It was true that at certain times my loneliness and isolation came coldly on my heart; when one by one I saw others claimed by their friends, and hurrying away to some happy home, where some fond sister threw her arm around a brother's neck, or some doting mother clasped her son close to her bosom and kissed his brow, a tear would find its way down my cheek, and I would hasten to my room, and locking the door, sit down alone to think, till my sad heart grew weary, or my sterner nature rose within me, and by an effort over myself, I turned to my studies and forgot all else.

Meanwhile I made rapid progress; the unbroken tenor of my thoughts gave me a decided advantage over the others, and long before the regular period arrived, the day for my final examination was appointed.

What a lasting impression do some passages of early life leave behind them! Even yet,—and how many years are past!—how well do I remember all the hopes and fears that stirred my heart as the day drew near! how each morning at sunrise I rose to pore over some of the books which formed the subjects of examination: how, when the gray dawn was only breaking, have I bent over the pages of Vauban and the calculations of Carnot! and with what a sinking spirit have I often found that a night seemed to have erased all the fruit of a long day's labor, and that the gain of my hard-worked intellect had escaped me,—and then again, like magic, the lost thought would come back, my brain grow clear, and all the indistinct and shadowy conceptions assume a firm and tangible reality which I felt like power! At such times as these my spirits rose, my heart beat high, a joyous feeling throbbed in every pulse, and an exhilaration almost maddening elevated me, and there was nothing I would not have dared, no danger I would not have confronted. Such were the attractions of my boyish days, and such the temperament they bequeathed to my manhood.

It was on the 16th of June, the anniversary of Marengo, when the drum beat to arms in the court of the Polytechnique; and soon after the scholars were seen assembling in haste from various quarters, anxious to learn if their prayer had been acceded to,—which asked permission for them to visit the Invalides, the usual indulgence on the anniversary of any great victory.

As we flocked into the court we were struck by seeing an orderly dragoon standing beside the headmaster, who was eagerly perusing a letter in his hands; when he had concluded, he spoke a few words to the soldier, who at once wheeled round his horse and trotted rapidly from the spot.

Again the drums rolled out, and the order was given to form in line. In an instant the command was obeyed, and we stood in silent expectation of the news which we perceived awaited us.

“Messieurs les ÉlÈves,” he began, when stillness was restored, “this day being the anniversary of the glorious battle of Marengo, the General Bonaparte has decreed that a review should be held of the entire school. Lieutenant-General d'Auvergne will arrive here at noon to inspect you, and on such reports as I shall give of your general conduct, zeal, and proficiency will recommendations be forwarded to the First Consul for your promotion.”

A loud cheer followed this speech. The announcement far surpassed our most ardent hopes, and there was no limit to our enthusiasm; and loud vivas in honor of General Bonaparte, D'Auvergne, and the headmaster himself were heard on all sides.

Scarcely was the breakfast over when our preparations began. What a busy scene it was! Here were some brushing up their uniforms, polishing their sword-hilts, and pipeclaying their cross-belts; there might be seen others conning over the directions of field manoeuvres, and refreshing their memory of the words of command; some practised marching in groups along the corridor; others, too much excited by the prospect before them, jumped madly from place to place, shouting and singing snatches of soldier songs; but all were occupied. As for me, it was only two days before I had obtained my grade of corporal; my new uniform had only just come home, and I put it on for the first time with no inconsiderable pride; indeed, I could scarce turn my eyes as I walked from the stripes upon my arm that denoted my rank.

Long before the appointed time we were all assembled, and when the clock struck twelve and the drum beat out, not a boy was absent. We were drawn up in three columns according to our standing, spaces being left between each to permit of our wheeling into line at the word of command. The headmaster passed down our ranks, narrowly inspecting our equipments and scrutinizing every detail of our costume; but a stronger impulse than ordinary was now at work, and not the slightest irregularity was anywhere detectable.

Meanwhile the time passed on, and although every eye was directed to the long avenue of lime-trees by which the general must arrive, nothing moved along it; and the bright streaks of sunlight that peeped between the trees were unbroken by any passing shadow. Whispers passed along the ranks,—some fearing he might have forgotten the whole appointment; others suspecting that another review elsewhere had engrossed his attention; and at last a half murmur of dissatisfaction crept through the mass, which only the presence of the chef restrained within due bounds.

One o'clock struck, and yet no rider appeared; the alley remained silent and deserted as before. The minutes now seemed like hours; weariness and lassitude appeared everywhere. The ranks were broken, and many wandered from their posts, and forgot all discipline. At last a cloud of dust was seen to rise at a distance, and gradually it approached the long avenue, and every eye was turned in the direction, and in an instant the stragglers resumed their places, and all was attention and anxiety, while every look pierced eagerly the dense cloud, to see whether it was not the long-wished-for staff which was coming. At length the object burst upon our sight; but what was our disappointment to see that it was only a travelling carriage with four post-horses that approached. No appearance of a soldier was there,—not one solitary dragoon. A half-uttered shout announced our dissatisfaction, for we at once guessed it was merely some chance visitor, or perhaps the friends of some of the scholars, who had thus excited our false hopes.

The chef himself participated in our feelings; and passing down the lines, he announced that if the general did not arrive within ten minutes, he would himself dismiss us, and set us at liberty. A cheer of gratitude received this speech, and we stood patiently awaiting our liberation, when suddenly, from the guard-house at the gate, the clash of arms was heard, and the roll of drums in salute, and the same instant the carriage we had seen rolled into the courtyard and took up its station in the middle of the square. The next moment the door was opened and the steps lowered, and an officer in a splendid uniform assisted three ladies to alight. Before we recovered from the surprise of the proceeding, the master had approached the party, and by his air of deference and deep respect denoted that they were no ordinary visitors. But our attention was quickly drawn from the group that now stood talking and laughing together, for already the clank of a cavalry escort was heard coming up the avenue, and we beheld the waving plumes and brilliant uniform of a general officer's staff advancing at a rapid trot. The drums now rolled out along the lines; we stood to arms; the gallant cortege turned into the court and formed in front of us. All eyes were fixed on the general himself, the perfect beau ideal of an old soldier. He sat his horse as firmly and gracefully as the youngest aide-de-camp of his suite; his long white hair, dressed in queue behind, was brushed back off his high broad forehead; his clear blue eye, mild yet resolute, glanced over our ranks; and as he bowed to the headmaster, his whole gesture and bearing was worthy of the Court of which once he was a brilliant member.

“I have kept my young friends waiting for me,” said he in a low but clear voice, “and it now remains for me to make the only amende in my power,—a short inspection. Dorsenne, will you take the command?”

I started at the name, and looked round; and close beside him stood the same officer who had so kindly received me the day I landed in France. Though he looked at me, however, I saw he did not remember me, and my spirits sank again as I thought how utterly friendless and alone I was.

The general was true to his word in making the inspection as brief as possible. He rode leisurely down the ranks, stopping from time to time to express his satisfaction, or drop some chance word of encouragement or advice, which we caught up with eagerness and delight. Forming us into line, he ordered his aide-de-camp to put us through some of the ordinary parade manoeuvres, which we knew as thoroughly as the most disciplined troops. During all this time the group of ladies maintained their position in front, and seemed to watch the review with every semblance of interest. The general, too, made one of the party, and appeared from time to time to explain the intended movement, and direct their attention to the scene.

“Let them march past in salute,” said he, at length. “The poor fellows have had enough of it; I must not encroach on the entire holiday.”

A unanimous cheer was the reply to this kind speech, and we formed in sections and marched by him at a quickstep. The chef d'École had now approached the staff, and was making his report on the boys, when the general again interrupted him by saying,—

“Madame has expressed a wish to see the boys at their usual exercise of the play hour. If the request be admissible—”

“Certainly, mon gÉnÉral; of course,” said he. And stepping forward, he beckoned to one of the drummers to come near. He whispered a word, and the tattoo beat out; and, like magic, every one sprang from his ranks, caps were flung into the air, and vivas rung out from every quarter of the court.

The sudden transition from discipline to perfect liberty added to our excitement, and we became half wild with delight. The first mad burst of pleasure over, we turned, as if by instinct, to our accustomed occupations. Here were seen a party collecting for a drill, officers gathering and arranging their men, and sergeants assisting in the muster; there, were others, armed with spades and shovels, at work on an entrenchment, while some were driving down stockades and fixing a palisade; another set, more peaceful in their pursuits, had retired to their little gardens, and were busy with watering-pots and trowels.

The section I belonged to were the seniors of the school, and we had erected a kind of fort which it was our daily amusement to defend and attack, the leadership on either side being determined by lots. On this day the assault had fallen to my command, and I hurried hither and thither collecting my forces, and burning for the attack.

We were not long in assembling; and the garrison having announced their readiness by the display of a flag from the ramparts, the assault began. I know not why nor wherefore, but on this day my spirits were unusually high; it was one of those chance occasions when my temperament, heated and glowing, had elevated me in my own esteem, and I would have given my life for some opportunity of distinguishing myself.

I led my party on, then, with more than common daring, and though repulsed by the besieged, we fell back only for a moment, and returned to the assault determined to succeed; the others, animated by the same spirit, fought as bravely, and the cheers that rose from one side were replied to by shouts as full of defiance from the other. Heated and excited, I turned round to order an attack of my whole force, when to my surprise I beheld that the general and his staff, accompanied by the ladies, had taken their places a short distance off, and were become interested spectators of the siege. This alone was wanting to stimulate my efforts to the utmost, and I now returned to the fight with tenfold impetuosity. But if this feeling animated me, it also nerved my antagonists, for their resistance rose with every moment, and as they drove us back from their walls, cheers of triumph rang out and proclaimed the victory.

Already the battle had lasted nearly an hour, and all that was obtained was a slight breach in one of the outworks, too small to be practicable for assault. In this state were matters, when the sound of a cavalry escort turned every eye towards the entrance to the courtyard, where we now beheld a squadron of the Landers rouges following a numerous and brilliant staff of general officers.

Scarcely had they entered the gates when a loud cry rent the air, and every voice shouted, “C'est lui! c'est lui!” and the next moment, “Vive Bonaparte! vive le Premier Consul!” All that I ever heard from poor De Meudon came rushing on my mind, and my heart swelled out till it seemed bursting my very bosom. The next instant my eye turned to the little fort; the moment was propitious, for there every cap was waving, every look bent towards him, I seized the opportunity, and pointing silently to the breach, stole forward. In a second I was beneath the grassy rampart; in another, I reached the breach; the next brought me to the top, where, with a shout of victory, I called on my men to follow me. On they came rushing,—but too late; already the garrison were upon me, and overcome by numbers, I fought alone and unsupported. Step by step they drove me to the edge of the rampart; already my foot was on the breach, when with a spring I dashed at the flagstaff, and carried it with me as I fell headlong into the ditch. In a moment I was on my legs, but so stunned and crushed that I fell almost immediately again; cold perspiration broke over my face and forehead, and I should have fainted but that they dashed some water over me.

As I lay sick and faint I lifted my eyes; and what was my amazement to see, not the little companions of the school about me, but the gorgeous uniform of staff officers, and two elegantly-dressed ladies, one of whom held a cup of water in her hand and sprinkled it over my brow. I looked down upon my torn dress, and the sleeve of my coat, where the marks of my rank were already half effaced, and I felt the tears start into my eyes as the remembrance of my late failure crossed my mind. At the instant the crowd opened, and a pale but handsome face, where command was tempered by a look of almost womanly softness, smiled upon me.

[Illlustration: C'Était bien fait, mon enfant 223]

“C'Était bien fait, mon enfant,” said he, “trÉs bien fait; and if you have lost a coat by the struggle, why I must even see if I can't give you another to replace it. Monsieur Legrange, what is the character of this boy in the school? Is he diligent, zealous, and well-conducted!”

“All of the three. General,” said the chef, bowing obsequiously.

“Let him have his brevet,—to date from to-day. Who are his friends?”

A whispered answer replied to this inquiry.

“Indeed!” said the first speaker; “reason the more we should take care of him. Monsieur,” continued he, turning towards me, “to-morrow you shall have your epaulettes. Never forget how you gained them; and remember ever that every grade in the service is within the reach of a brave man who does his duty.”

So saying, he passed on, while, overcome by emotion, I could not speak or move.

“There, he is much better now,” said a soft voice near me; “you see his color is coming back.”

I looked up, and there were two ladies standing beside me. The elder was tall and elegantly formed; her figure, which in itself most graceful, looked to its full advantage by the splendor of her dress; there was an air of stateliness in her manner, which had seemed hauteur were it not for a look of most benevolent softness that played about her mouth whenever she spoke. The younger, who might in years have seemed her daughter, was in every respect unlike her: she was slight and delicately formed; her complexion and her black eyes, shaded by a long dark fringe, bespoke the ProvenÇal; her features were beautifully regular, and when at rest completely Greek in their character, but each moment some chance word, some passing thought, implanted a new expression, and the ever-varying look of her flashing eyes and full round lips played between a smile and that arch spirit that essentially belongs to the fair daughters of the South. It was not until my fixed gaze had brought a deep blush to her cheek, that I felt how ardently I had been looking at her.

“Yes, yes,” said she, hurriedly, “he's quite well now;” and at the same moment she made a gesture of impatience to pass on. But the elder held her arm close within her own, as she whispered, with something of half malice, “But stay, Marie; I should like to hear his name. Ah,” cried she, starting in affected surprise, “how flushed you are! there must be something in the air here, so we had better proceed.” And with a soft smile and a courteous motion of her hand, she passed on.

I looked after them as they went. A strange odd feeling stirred within my heart,—a kind of wild joy, with a mingled sense of hope too vague to catch at. I watched the drooping feather of her bonnet, and the folds of her dress as they fluttered in the wind; and when she disappeared from my sight, I could scarce believe that she was not still beside me, and that lier dark eyes did not look into my very soul. But already my companions crowded about me, and amid a hundred warm congratulations and kind wishes, I took my way back to the college.

Scarcely was breakfast over the following morning, when the order arrived for my removal from the scholar quarter of the Polytechnique to that occupied by the cadets. A small tricolored cockade affixed to my hat was the only emblem of my new rank; but simple as it was, no decoration ever attracted more envy and admiration from the beholders, nor gave more pride to the wearer, than that knot of ribbon.

“At number thirteen you 'll find your quarters, Monsieur le Cadet,” said a sergeant, as he presented me with the official order.

I remember at this very hour what a thrill his military salute sent through me. It was the first acknowledgment of my grade; the first recognition that I was no longer a mere schoolboy. I had not much time granted me to indulge such sensations, for already my schoolfellows had thronged round me, and overwhelmed me with questions and felicitations.

“Ah, what a fortunate fellow! No examination to go through; has his grade given him without toiling for it.”—“Is it the cavalry, Burke”—“Are you a cheval?”—“When do you join?”—“Where is your regiment?”—“Shall we see you again?”—“Won't you write to us all about the corps when you join them?”—“Who is your comrade?”—“Yes, tell us that; who is he?”

“Ma foi,” said I, “I know not more than yourselves. You are all aware to what an accident I owe my promotion. Where I am destined for, or in what corps, I can't tell. And as to my comrade—”

“Ah! take care he 's no tyrant,” said one.

“Yes, yes,” cried another; “show him you know what a small sword is at once.”

“Burke won't be trifled with,” cried a third.

And then followed a very chorus of voices, each detailing some atrocity committed by the cadets on their newly-joined associates. One had a friend wounded in the side the very day he joined; another knew some one who was thrown out of a window: here was an account of a delicate boy who passed an entire night in the snow, and died of a chest disease three weeks after; there, a victim to intemperance met his fate in the orgy that celebrated his promotion. This picture, I confess, did somewhat damp the ardor of my first impressions; and I took leave of my old friends with not less feeling of affection, that I doubted how much kindness and good feeling I had to expect from my new ones.

In this mood of mind I shook their hands for the last time, and followed the soldier who carried my baggage to the distant quarter of the École. As I entered the large court by the richly ornamented gate, whose bronzed tracery and handsome carving dated from the time of Louis the Fourteenth, my heart swelled with conscious pride. The faÇade of the square, unlike the simple front of the scholars' quarters, was beautifully architectural; massive consoles supported the windows, and large armorial insignia, cut on stone, surmounted the different entrances. But what most captivated my spirits and engaged my attention was a large flag in the centre, from which waved the broad ensign of France, beside which a sentinel paced to and fro. He presented arms as I passed; and the click of his musket, as he stood erect, sent a thrill through me, and made my very fingers tingle with delight.

“This is number thirteen, sir,” said the soldier, as we arrived in front of one of the doorways; and before I could reply, the door opened, and a young officer, in the uniform of an infantry regiment, appeared. He was about to pass out, when his eye resting on the luggage the soldier had just placed beside him, he stopped suddenly, and, touching his cap, asked in a polite tone,—

“Not Mr. Burke, is it?”

“Yes,” said I, bowing in return.

“Eh, mon camarade,” said he, holding out his hand, “delighted to see you. Have you breakfasted? Well, you 'll find all ready for you in the quarters. I shall be back soon. I 'm only going to a morning drill, which won't last half an hour; so make yourself at home, and we'll meet soon again.”

So saying, he once more saluted me, and passed on. “Not very like what I feared,” thought I, as I entered the quarters, whose look of neatness and comfort so pleasantly contrasted with my late abode. I had barely time to look over the prints and maps of military subjects which ornamented the walls, when my new friend made his appearance.

“No parade to-day, thank Heaven,” said he, throwing down his cap and sabre, and lolling at full length on the little camp sofa. “Now, mon cher camarade, let us make acquaintance at once, for our time is likely to be of the shortest. My name is Tascher, a humble sous-lieutenant of the Twenty-first Regiment of Foot. As much a stranger in this land as yourself, I fancy,” continued he, after a slight pause, “but very well contented to be adopted by it.”

After this opening, he proceeded to inform me that he was the nephew of Madame Bonaparte,—her sister's only son,—who, at his mother's death, left Guadaloupe, and came over to France, and became an Éleve of the Polytechnique. There he had remained five years, and after a severe examination, obtained his brevet in an infantry corps; his uncle Bonaparte having shown him no other favor nor affection than a severe reprimand on one occasion for some boyish freak, when all the other delinquents escaped scot-free.

“I am now under orders for service,” said he; “but where for, and when, I can't tell. But this I know, that whatever good fortune may be going a-begging, I, Lieutenant Tascher, am very likely to get only the hem of the garment.”

There was a tone of easy and frank good-nature in all he said, which at once disposed me to like the young Creole; and we spent the whole afternoon recounting our various adventures and fortunes, and before night came on were sworn friends for life.