CONTENTS
[ PREFACE. ]
[ TOM BURKE OF “OURS." ]
[ CHAPTER I. ] MYSELF
[ CHAPTER II. ] DARBY THE “BLAST.”
[ CHAPTER III. ] THE DEPARTURE
[ CHAPTER IV. ] MY WANDERINGS
[ CHAPTER V. ] THE CABIN
[ CHAPTER VI. ] MY EDUCATION
[ CHAPTER VII. ] KEVIN STREET
[ CHAPTER VIII. ] NO. 39, AND ITS FREQUENTERS
[ CHAPTER IX. ] THE FRENCHMAN'S STORY
[ CHAPTER X. ] THE CHURCHYARD
[ CHAPTER XI. ] TOO LATE
[ CHAPTER XII. ] A CHARACTER
[ CHAPTER XIII. ] AN UNLOOKED-FOR VISITOR
[ CHAPTER XIV. ] THE JAIL
[ CHAPTER XV. ] THE CASTLE
[ CHAPTER XVI. ] THE BAIL
[ CHAPTER XVII. ] MR. BASSET'S DWELLING
[ CHAPTER XVIII. ] THE CAPTAIN'S QUARTERS
[ CHAPTER XIX. ] THE QUARREL
[ CHAPTER XX. ] THE FLIGHT
[ CHAPTER XXI. ] THE ÉCOLE MILITAIRE
[ CHAPTER XXII. ] THE TUILERIES IN 1803
[ CHAPTER XXIII. ] A SURPRISE
[ CHAPTER XXIV. ] THE PAVILLON DE FLORE
[ CHAPTER XXV. ] THE SUPPER AT “BEAUVILLIERS'S”
[ CHAPTER XXVI. ] THE TWO VISITS
[ CHAPTER XXVII. ] THE MARCH TO VERSAILLES
[ CHAPTER XXVIII. ] THE PARK OF VERSAILLES
[ CHAPTER XXIX. ] LA ROSE OF PROVENCE
[ CHAPTER XXX. ] A WARNING
[ CHAPTER XXXI. ] THE CHÂTEAU
[ CHAPTER XXXII. ] THE CHÂTEAU d'ANCRE
[ CHAPTER XXXIII. ] THE TEMPLE
[ CHAPTER XXXIV. ] THE CHOUANS
[ CHAPTER XXXV. ] THE REIGN OF TERROR UNDER THE CONSULATE
[ CHAPTER XXXVI. ] THE PALAIS DE JUSTICE
[ CHAPTER XXXVII. ] THE TRIAL
[ CHAPTER XXXVIII. ] THE CUIRASSIER
[ CHAPTER XXXIX. ] A MORNING AT THE TUILLERIES
[ CHAPTER XL. ] A NIGHT IN THE TUILERIES GARDENS
[ CHAPTER XLI. ] A STORY OF THE YEAR '92
[ CHAPTER XLII. ] THE HALL OF THE MARSHALS
[ CHAPTER XLIII. ] THE MARCH ON THE DANUBE
[ CHAPTER XLIV. ] THE CANTEEN
[ CHAPTER XLV. ] THE “VIVANDIÈRE OF THE FOURTH”ILLUSTRATIONS
[ Law and Physic in the Chamber of Death ]
[ Saldin Danceth a Lively Measure ]
[ Tom Receives a Strange Visitor ]
[ May Good Digestion Wait on Appetite ]
[ Darby Exchanges Compliments With a “sodger” ]
[ Capture of the “Red-beard” ]
[ Napoleon Sends Burke from the Room ]
[ The “big Pioche” Indulging in Delicacies ]
TO MISS EDGEWORTH.
Madam,—This weak attempt to depict the military life of France, during the brief but glorious period of the Empire, I beg to dedicate to you. Had the scene of this, like that of my former books, been laid chiefly in Ireland, I should have felt too sensibly my own inferiority to venture on the presumption of such a step. As it is, I never was more conscious of the demerits of my volume than when inscribing it to you; but I cannot resist the temptation of being, even thus, associated with a name,—the first in my country's literature.
Another motive I will not conceal,—the ardent desire I have to assure you, that, amid the thousands you have made better, and wiser, and happier, by your writings, you cannot count one who feels more proudly the common tie of country with you, nor more sincerely admires your goodness and your genius, than
Your devoted and obedient servant,
CHARLES J. LEVER.