In the course of 1804, the school was a prey to political passions, and that through the fault of the government.

They wished forthwith to oblige the pupils to sign an address of congratulation on the discovery of the conspiracy in which Moreau was implicated.  They refused to do so on the ground that it was not for them to pronounce on a cause which had been in the hands of justice.  It must, however, be remarked, that Moreau had not yet dishonoured himself by taking service in the Russian army, which had come to attack the French under the walls of Dresden.

The pupils were invited to make a manifestation in favour of the institution of the Legion of Honour.  This again they refused.  They knew well that the cross, given without inquiry and without control, would be, in most cases, the recompense of charlatanism, and not of true merit.

The transformation of the Consular into the Imperial Government gave rise to very animated discussions in the interior of the school.

Many pupils refused to add their felicitations to the mean adulations of the constituted bodies.

General Lacuee, who was appointed governor of the school, reported this opposition to the Emperor.

“M.  Lacuee,” cried Napoleon, in the midst of a group of courtiers, who applauded with speech and gesture, “you cannot retain at the school those pupils who have shown such ardent Republicanism; you will send them away.”  Then, collecting himself, he added, “I will first know their names and their stages of promotion.”  Seeing the list the next day, he did not proceed further than the first name, which was the first in the artillery.  “I will not drive away the first men in advancement,” said he.  “Ah! if they had been at the bottom of the list!  M. Lacuee, leave them alone.”

Nothing was more curious than the seance to which General Lacuee came to receive the oath of obedience from the pupils.  In the vast amphitheatre which contained them, one could not discern a trace of the gravity which such a ceremony should inspire.  The greater part, instead of answering, at the call of their names, “I swear it,” cried out, “Present.”

All at once the monotony of this scene was interrupted by a pupil, son of the Conventionalist Brissot, who called out in a stentorian voice, “I will not take the oath of obedience to the Emperor.”  Lacuee, pale and with little presence of mind, ordered a detachment of armed pupils placed behind him to go and arrest the recusant.  The detachment, of which I was at the head, refused to obey.  Brissot, addressing himself to the General, with the greatest calmness said to him, “Point out the place to which you wish me to go; do not force the pupils to dishonour themselves by laying hands on a comrade who has no desire to resist.”

The next morning Brissot was expelled.