Books: The Private Life of Napoleon Bonaparte, v1
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Constant >> The Private Life of Napoleon Bonaparte, v1
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At this same concert the First Consul was struck with the beauty of a
famous singer, Madame Grassini. He found her by no means cruel, and at
the end of a few hours the conqueror of Italy counted one conquest more.
The following day she breakfasted with the First Consul and General
Berthier in the chamber of the First Consul. General Berthier was
ordered to provide for the journey of Madame Grassini, who was carried to
Paris, and attached to the concert-room of the court.
The First Consul left Milan on the 24th; and we returned to France by the
route of Mont Cenis, traveling as rapidly as possible. Everywhere the
Consul was received with an enthusiasm difficult to describe. Arches of
triumph had been erected at the entrance of each town, and in each canton
a deputation of leading citizens came to make addresses to and compliment
him. Long ranks of young girls, dressed in white, crowned with flowers,
bearing flowers in their hands, and throwing flowers into the carriage of
the First Consul, made themselves his only escort, surrounded him,
followed him, and preceded him, until he had passed, or as soon as he set
foot on the ground wherever he stopped.
The journey was thus, throughout the whole route, a perpetual fete; and
at Lyons it amounted to an ovation, in which the whole town turned out to
meet him. He entered, surrounded by an immense crowd, amid the most
noisy demonstrations, and alighted at the hotel of the Celestins. In the
Reign of Terror the Jacobins had spent their fury on the town of Lyons,
the destruction of which they had sworn; and the handsome buildings which
ornamented the Place Belcour had been leveled to the ground, the hideous
cripple Couthon, at the head of the vilest mob of the clubs, striking
the first blow with the hammer. The First Consul detested the Jacobins,
who, on their side, hated and feared him; and his constant care was to
destroy their work, or, in other words, to restore the ruins with which
they had covered France. He thought then, and justly too, that he could
not better respond to the affection of the people of Lyons, than by
promoting with all his power the rebuilding of the houses of the Place
Belcour; and before his departure he himself laid the first stone. The
town of Dijon gave the First Consul a reception equally as brilliant.
Between Villeneuve-le-Roi and Sens, at the descent to the bridge of
Montereau, while the eight horses, lashed to a gallop, were bearing the
carriage rapidly along (the First Consul already traveled like a king),
the tap of one of the front wheels came off. The inhabitants who lined
the route, witnessing this accident, and foreseeing what would be the
result, used every effort to stop the postilions, but did not succeed,
and the carriage was violently upset. The First Consul received no
injury; General Berthier had his face slightly scratched by the windows,
which were broken; and the two footmen, who were on the steps, were
thrown, violently to a distance, and badly wounded. The First Consul got
out, or rather was pulled out, through one of the doors. This occurrence
made no delay in his journey; he took his seat in another carriage
immediately, and reached Paris with no other accident. The night of the
2d of July, he alighted at the Tuileries; and the next day, as soon as
the news of his return had been circulated in Paris, the entire
population filled the courts and the garden. They pressed around the
windows of the pavilion of Flora, in the hope of catching a glimpse of
the savior of France, the liberator of Italy.
That evening there was no one, either rich or poor, who did not take
delight in illuminating his house or his garret. It was only a short
time after his arrival at Paris that the First Consul learned of the
death of General Kleber. The poniard of Suleyman had slain this great
captain the same day that the cannon of Marengo laid low another hero of
the army of Egypt. This assassination caused the First Consul the most
poignant grief, of which I was an eyewitness, and to which I can testify;
and, nevertheless, his calumniators have dared to say that he rejoiced at
an event, which, even considered apart from its political relations,
caused him to lose a conquest which had cost him so much, and France so
much blood and expense. Other miserable wretches, still more stupid and
more infamous, have even gone so far as to fabricate and spread abroad
the report that the First Consul had himself ordered the assassination of
his companion in arms, whom he had placed in his own position at the head
of the army in Egypt. To these I have only one answer to make, if it is
necessary to answer them at all; it is this, they never knew the Emperor.
After his return, the First Consul went often with his wife to Malmaison,
where he remained sometimes for several days. At this time it was the
duty of the valet de chambre to follow the carriage on horseback. One
day the First Consul, while returning to Paris, ascertained a short
distance from the chateau that he had forgotten his snuff-box, and sent
me for it. I turned my bridle, set off at a gallop, and, having found
the snuff-box on his desk, retraced my steps to overtake him, but did not
succeed in doing so till he had reached Ruelle. Just as I drew near the
carriage my horse slipped on a stone, fell, and threw me some distance
into a ditch. The fall was very severe; and I remained stretched on the
ground, with one shoulder dislocated, and an arm badly bruised. The
First Consul ordered the horses stopped, himself gave orders to have me
taken up, and cautioned them to be very careful in moving me; and I was
borne, attended by-him, to the barracks of Ruelle, where he took pains
before continuing his journey to satisfy himself that I was in no danger.
The physician of his household was sent to Ruelle, my shoulder set, and
my arm dressed; and from there I was carried as gently as possible to
Malmaison, where, good Madame, Bonaparte had the kindness to come to see
me, and lavished on me every attention.
The day I returned to service, after my recovery, I was in the
antechamber of the First Consul as he came out of his cabinet. He drew
near me, and inquired with great interest how I was. I replied that,
thanks to the care taken of me, according to the orders of my excellent
master and mistress, I was quite well again. "So much the better," said
the First Consul. "Constant, make haste, and get your strength back.
Continue to serve me well, and I will take care of you. Here," added he,
placing in my hand three little crumpled papers, "these are to replenish
your wardrobe;" and he passed on, without listening to the profuse thanks
which, with great emotion, I was attempting to express, much more for the
consideration and interest in me shown by him than for his present, for I
did not then know of what it consisted. After he passed on I unrolled my
papers: they were three bank-bills, each for a thousand francs! I was
moved to tears by so great a kindness. We must remember that at this
period the First Consul was not rich, although he was the first
magistrate of the republic. How deeply the remembrance of this generous
deed touches me, even to-day. I do not know if details so personal to me
will be found interesting; but they seem to me proper as evidence of the
true character of the Emperor, which has been so outrageously
misrepresented, and also as an instance of his ordinary conduct towards
the servants of his house; it shows too, at the same time, whether the
severe economy that he required in his domestic management, and of which
I will speak elsewhere, was the result, as has been stated, of sordid
avarice, or whether it was not rather a rule of prudence, from which he
departed willingly whenever his kindness of heart or his humanity urged
him thereto.
I am not certain that my memory does not deceive me in leading me to put
in this place a circumstance which shows the esteem in which the First
Consul held the brave soldiers of his army, and how he loved to manifest
it on all occasions. I was one day in his sleeping-room, at the usual
hour for his toilet, and was performing that day the duties of chief
valet, Hambard being temporarily absent or indisposed, there being in the
room, besides the body servants, only the brave and modest Colonel
Gerard Lacuee, one of the aides-de-camp of the First Consul. Jerome
Bonaparte, then hardly seventeen years of age, was introduced. This
young man gave his family frequent cause of complaint, and feared no one
except his brother Napoleon, who reprimanded, lectured, and scolded him
as if he had been his own son. There was a question at the time of
making him a sailor, less with the object of giving him a career, than of
removing him from the seductive temptations which the high position of
his brother caused to spring up incessantly around his path, and which he
had little strength to resist. It may be imagined what it cost him to
renounce pleasures so accessible and so delightful to a young man. He
did not fail to protest, on all occasions, his unfitness for sea-service,
going so far, it is said, that he even caused himself to be rejected by
the examining board of the navy as incompetent, though he could easily
have prepared himself to answer the few questions asked. However, the
will of the First Consul must be obeyed, and Jerome was compelled to
embark. On the day of which I have spoken, after some moments of
conversation and scolding, still on the subject of the navy, Jerome said
to his brother, "Instead of sending me to perish of ennui at sea, you
ought to take me for an aide-de-camp."--"What, take you, greenhorn,"
warmly replied the First Consul; "wait till a ball has furrowed your face
and then I will see about it," at the same time calling his attention to
Colonel Lacuee, who blushed, and dropped his eyes to the floor like a
young girl, for, as is well known, he bore on his face the scar made by a
bullet. This gallant colonel was killed in 1805 before Guntzbourg; and
the Emperor deeply regretted his loss, for he ways one of the bravest and
most skillful officers of the army.
It was, I believe, about this time that the First Consul conceived a
strong passion for a very intelligent and handsome young woman, Madame D.
Madame Bonaparte, suspecting this intrigue, showed jealousy; and her
husband did all he could to allay her wifely suspicions. Before going to
the chamber of his mistress he would wait until every one was asleep in
the chateau; and he even carried his precautions so far as to go from his
room to hers in his night-dress, without shoes or slippers. Once I found
that day was about to break before his return; and fearing scandal, I
went, as the First Consul had ordered me to do in such a case, to notify
the chambermaid of Madame D. to go to her mistress and tell her the hour.
It was hardly five minutes after this timely notice had been given, when
I saw the First Consul returning, in great excitement, of which I soon
learned the cause. He had discovered, on his return, one of Madame
Bonaparte's women, lying in wait, and who had seen him through the window
of a closet opening upon the corridor. The First Consul, after a
vigorous outburst against the curiosity of the fair sex, sent me to the
young scout from the enemy's camp to intimate to her his orders to hold
her tongue, unless she wished to be discharged without hope of return.
I do not know whether I added a milder argument to these threats to buy
her silence; but, whether from fear or for compensation, she had the good
sense not to talk. Nevertheless, the successful lover, fearing another
surprise, directed me to rent in the Allee des Ireuves a little house
where he and Madame D. met from time to time. Such were, and continued
to be, the precautions of the First Consul towards his wife. He had the
highest regard for her, and took all imaginable care to prevent his
infidelities coming to her knowledge. Besides, these passing fancies did
not lessen the tenderness he felt for her; and although other women
inspired him with love, no other woman had his confidence and friendship
to the same extent as Madame Bonaparte. There have been a thousand and
one calumnies repeated of the harshness and brutality of the First Consul
towards women. He was not always gallant, but I have never seen him
rude; and, however singular it may seem after what I have just related,
he professed the greatest veneration for a wife of exemplary conduct,
speaking in admiring terms of happy households; and he did not admire
cynicism, either in morals or in language. When he had any liaisons he
kept them secret, and concealed them with great care.
CHAPTER VI.
The 3d Nivose, year IX. (Dec. 21, 1800),
[Under the Republican regime the years were counted from the
proclamation of the Republic, Sept. 22, 1792. The year was divided
into twelve months of thirty days each, re-named from some
peculiarity, as Brumaire (foggy); Nivose (snowy); Thermidor (hot);
Fructidor (fruit), etc.; besides five supplementary days of
festivals, called 'sans-culottides'. The months were divided into
three decades of ten days instead of weeks, the tenth day (decadi)
being in lieu of Sunday. The Republican calendar lasted till Jan.
1, 1806, as to the years and months at least, though the Concordat
had restored the weeks and Sabbaths.--TRANS.]
the Opera presented, by order, The Creation of Haydn; and the First
Consul had announced that he would be present, with all his household, at
this magnificent oratorio. He dined on that day with Madame Bonaparte,
her daughter, and Generals Rapp, Lauriston, Lannes, and Berthier. I was
on duty; but as the First Consul was going to the Opera, I knew that I
should not be needed at the chateau, and resolved, for my part, to go to
the Feydeau, occupying the box which Madame Bonaparte allowed us, and
which was situated under hers. After dinner, which the First Consul
bolted with his usual rapidity, he rose from the table, followed by his
officers, with the exception of General Rapp, who remained with Madame
Josephine and Hortense. About seven o'clock the First Consul entered his
carriage with Lannes, Berthier, and Lauriston, to go to the Opera. When
they arrived in the middle of Rue Sainte-Nicaise, the escort who preceded
the carriage found the road obstructed by a cart, which seemed to be
abandoned, and on which a cask was found fastened strongly with ropes.
The chief of the escort had this cart removed to the side of the street;
and the First Consul's coachman, whom this delay had made impatient,
urged on his horses vigorously, and they shot off like lightning.
Scarcely two seconds had passed when the barrel which was on the cart
burst with a frightful explosion. No one of the escort or of the
companions of the First Consul was slain, but several were wounded; and
the loss among the residents in the street and the passers-by near the
horrible machine was much greater. More than twenty of these were
killed, and more than sixty seriously wounded. Trepsat, the architect,
had his thigh broken. The First Consul afterwards decorated him, and
made him the architect of the Invalides, saying that he had long enough
been the most invalid of architects. All the panes of glass at the
Tuileries were broken, and many houses thrown down. All those of the
Rue Sainte-Nicaise, and even some in the adjacent streets, were badly
damaged, some fragments being blown into the house of the Consul
Cambaceres. The glass of the First Consul's carriage was shivered to
fragments. By a fortunate chance, the carriages of the suite, which
should have been immediately behind that of the First Consul, were some
distance in the rear, which happened in this way: Madame Bonaparte, after
dinner, had a shawl brought to wear to the opera; and when it came,
General Rapp jestingly criticised the color, and begged her to choose
another. Madame Bonaparte defended her shawl, and said to the general
that he knew as much about criticising a toilet as she did about
attacking a fort. This friendly banter continued for some moments; and
in the interval, the First Consul, who never waited, set out in advance,
and the miserable assassins and authors of the conspiracy set fire to the
infernal machine. Had the coachman of the First Consul driven less
rapidly, and thereby been two seconds later, it would have been all over
with his master; while, on the other hand, if Madame Bonaparte had
followed her husband promptly, it would have been certain death to her
and all her suite.
It was, in fact, the delay of an instant which saved her life, as well as
that of her daughter, her sister-in-law, Madame Murat, and all who were
to accompany them, since the carriage of these ladies, instead of being
immediately behind that of the First Consul, was just leaving the Place
Carrousel, when the machine exploded. The glass was shivered; and though
Madame Bonaparte received no injury except the terrible fright, Hortense
was slightly wounded in the face by a piece of glass, and Madame Caroline
Murat, who was then far advanced in pregnancy, was so frightened that it
was necessary to carry her back to the Tuileries. This catastrophe had
its influence, even on the health of her child; for I have been told that
Prince Achille Muratz is subject, to this day, to frequent attacks of
epilepsy. As is well known, the First Consul went on to the opera, where
he was received with tumultuous acclamations, the immobility of his
countenance contrasting strongly with the pallor and agitation of Madame
Bonaparte's, who had feared not so much for herself as for him. The
coachman who had driven the First Consul with such good fortune was named
Germain. He had followed him in Egypt, and in a skirmish had killed an
Arab, with his own hand, under the eyes of the general-in-chief, who,
struck with his courage, had cried out, "Diable! that's a brave man, he
is a Caesar." The name had clung to him. It has been said that this
brave man was drunk at the time of this explosion; but this is a mistake,
which his conduct under the circumstances contradicts in the most
positive manner. When the First Consul, after he became Emperor, went
out, incognito, in Paris, it was Caesar who was his escort, without
livery. It is said in the Memorial de Sainte Helene that the Emperor,
in speaking of Caesar, stated that he was in a complete state of
intoxication, and took the noise of the explosion for an artillery
salute, nor did he know until the next day what had taken place. This is
entirely untrue, and the Emperor was incorrectly informed in regard to
his coachman. Caesar drove the First Consul very rapidly because he had
been ordered to do so, and because he considered his honor interested in
not allowing the obstacle which the infernal machine placed in his way
before the explosion to delay him. The evening of the event I saw
Caesar, who was perfectly sober, and he himself related to me part of the
details that I have just given. A few days after, four or five hundred
hackney-coachmen clubbed together to honor him, and gave him a
magnificent dinner at twenty-four francs per head.
While the infernal plot was being executed, and costing the lies of many
innocent citizens, without attaining the object the assassins proposed,
I was, as I have said, at the Theatre Feydeau, where I had prepared
myself to enjoy at my leisure an entire evening of freedom, amid the
pleasures of the stage, for which I had all my life a great liking.
Scarcely had I seated myself comfortably, however, when the box-keeper
entered in the greatest excitement, crying out, "Monsieur Constant, it is
said that they have just blown up the First Consul; there has been a
terrible explosion, and it is asserted that he is dead." These terrible
words were like a thunderbolt-to me. Not knowing what I did, I plunged
down-stairs, and, forgetting my hat, ran like mad to the chateau. While
crossing Rue Vivienne and the Palais Royal, I saw no extraordinary
disturbance; but in Rue Sainte Honore there was a very great tumult, and
I saw, borne away on litters, many dead and wounded, who had been at
first carried into the neighboring houses of Rue Sainte Nicaise. Many
groups had formed, and with one voice all were cursing the still unknown
authors of this dastardly attempt. Some accused the Jacobins of this,
because three months before they had placed the poniard in the hands of
Cerrachi, of Arena, and of Topino Lebrun; whilst others, less numerous
perhaps, thought the aristocrats, the Royalists, could alone be guilty of
this atrocity. I could give no time to these various accusations, except
as I was detained in forcing my way through an immense and closely packed
crowd, and as rapidly as possible went on, and in two seconds was at the
Carrousel. I threw myself against the wicket, but the two sentinels
instantly crossed bayonets before my breast. It was useless to cry out
that I was valet de chambre of the First Consul; for my bare head, my
wild manner, the disorder, both of my dress and ideas, appeared to them
suspicious, and they refused energetically and very obstinately to allow
me to enter. I then begged them to send for the gatekeeper of the
chateau; and as soon as he came, I was admitted, or rather rushed into
the chateau, where I learned what had just happened. A short time after
the First Consul arrived, and was immediately surrounded by his officers,
and by all his household, every one present being in the greatest state
of anxiety. When the First Consul alighted from his carriage he appeared
calm and smiling; he even wore an air of gayety. On entering the
vestibule he said to his officers, rubbing his hands, "Well, sirs, we
made a fine escape! "They shuddered with indignation and anger. He then
entered the grand saloon on the ground floor, where a large number of
counselors of state and-dignitaries had already assembled; but hardly had
they begun to express their congratulations, when he interrupted them,
and in so vehement a manner that he was heard outside the saloon. We
were told that after this council he had a lively altercation with
Fouche, Minister of Police, whom he reproached with his ignorance of
this plot, openly accusing the Jacobins of being the authors.
That evening, on retiring, the First Consul asked me laughingly if I was
afraid. "More than you were, my general," I replied; and I related to
him how I had heard the fatal news at the Feydeau, and had run without my
hat to the very wicket of the Carrousel, where the sentinels tried to
prevent my entering. He was amused at the oaths and abusive epithets
with which they had accompanied their defense of the gate, and at last
said to me, "After all, my dear Constant, you should not be angry with
them; they were only obeying orders. They are brave men, on whom I can
rely." The truth is, the Consular Guard was at this period no less
devoted than it has been since as the Imperial Guard. At the first rumor
of the great risk which the First Consul had run, all the soldiers of
that faithful band had gathered spontaneously in the court of the
Tuileries.
After this melancholy catastrophe, which carried distress into all
France, and mourning into so many families, the entire police were
actively engaged in searching for the authors of the plot. The dwelling
of the First Consul was first put under surveillance, and we were
incessantly watched by spies, without suspecting it. All our walks, all
our visits, all our goings and comings, were known; and attention was
especially directed to our friends, and even our liaisons. But such was
the devotion of each and all to the person of the First Consul, such was
the affection that he so well knew how to inspire in those around him,
that not one of the persons attached to his service was for an instant
suspected of having a hand in this infamous attempt. Neither at this
time, nor in any other affair of this kind, were the members of his
household ever compromised; and never was the name of the lowest of his
servants ever found mixed up in criminal plots against a life so valued
and so glorious.
The minister of police suspected the Royalists of this attempt; but the
First Consul attributed it to the Jacobins, because they were already
guilty, he said, of crimes as odious. One hundred and thirty of the most
noted men of this party were transported on pure suspicion, and without
any form of trial. It is now known that the discovery, trial, and
execution of Saint Regent and Carbon, the true criminals, proved that the
conjectures of the minister were more correct than those of the chief of
state.
The 4th Nivose, at noon, the First Consul held a grand review in the
Place Carrousel, where an innumerable crowd of citizens were collected to
behold, and also to testify their affection for his person, and their
indignation against the enemies who dared attack him only by
assassination. Hardly had he turned his horse towards the first line of
grenadiers of the Consular Guard, when their innumerable acclamations
rose on all sides. He rode along the ranks, at a walk, very slowly,
showing his appreciation, and replying by a few simple and affectionate
words to this effusion of popular joy; and cries of "Vive Bonaparte!
Vive the First Consul!" did not cease till after he had re-entered his
apartments.
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