Napoleonic Literature
Memoirs of Constant - Vol. I
Chapter VI
The infernal machine— The most disabled of architects— The happy chance— Precipitation and delay alike salutary— Hortense slightly wounded— Fright of Madame Murat and its consequences— Germain the coachman— How he got the name of Cæsar— Inexactitudes respecting him— Banquet offered him by five hundred cabmen— The author at the Feydeau during the explosion— Alarm— Runs without a hat— Inflexible sentinels — The First Consul re-enters the Tuileries— The First Consul's remarks to Constant— The consular guard— The First Consul's household placed under surveillance— Unalterable fidelity — The Jacobins innocent and the Royalists guilty— Grand review — Joy of soldiers and people— Universal peace— Public rejoicings and improvised feasts— Reception of the military corps and of Lord Cornwallis— Military luxury— The Regent diamond.

THE 3d Nivose, year IX. (December 21, 1800), the Opera gave, by command, Haydn's Creation, and the First Consul had announced that he would go with all his family to hear the magnificent oratorio. He dined that day with Madame Bonaparte, her daughter, and Generals Rapp, Lauriston, Lannes, and Berthier. I was just then on duty; but as the First Consul was going to the Opera, I thought my presence at the château would be superfluous, and determined to go for my own part to the Feydeau, where Madame Bonaparte provided us with a box situated beneath her own. After dinner, which the First Consul expedited with his usual promptness, he rose from table, followed by his officers, excepting General Rapp, who remained with Mesdames Josephine and Hortense. Toward seven o'clock the First Consul entered a carriage along with MM. Lannes, Berthier, and Lauriston, to go to the Opera; on reaching the middle of the rue Saint-Nicaise, the outrider who preceded the carriage found the way obstructed by what seemed to be an abandoned cart, on top of which a cask was strongly attached by cords. The head of the escort had this cart shoved alongside the houses on the right, and the First Consul's coachman, who had become impatient at this brief delay, whipped up his horses, which started off like a flash. It was not more than two seconds, after they started when the barrel on the cart exploded with a frightful noise. None of the escort and suite of the First Consul were killed, but several received injuries. The fate of those who, either living in the street or passing through it, found themselves near the horrible machine was much more afflicting; more than twenty of them perished, and more than sixty were grievously wounded. M. Trepsat, architect, had a thigh broken; the First Consul afterwards decorated him and appointed him architect of the Invalides, saying to him that he had long been the most disabled of architects. All the window panes in the Tuileries were broken; several houses fell down, all those on the rue Saint-Nicaise and even some on adjacent streets were badly damaged. 1 Some of the debris flew as far as the house of Consul Cambacérès. The windows of the First Consul's carriage were broken in pieces.

By the luckiest of chances, the carriages of the suite, which were to have been immediately behind that of the First Consul, were far enough behind, and this is why: After dinner, Madame Bonaparte had sent for a shawl to wear to the Opera; when it was brought, General Rapp gayly criticised the color of it and urged her to choose another. Madame Bonaparte defended her shawl, and said to the General that he knew as much about attacking a toilet as she did about attacking a redoubt. This friendly discussion was carried on for some time in the same tone. During this interval, the First Consul, who never waited, started in advance, and the miserable assassins who were authors of the plot set off their infernal machine. If the First Consul's coachman had been in less of a hurry, and had delayed only two seconds longer, it would have been all up with his master; if, on the contrary, Madame Bonaparte had made haste to follow her husband, it would have been all over with her and her suite; it was, in fact this momentary delay which saved her life and her daughter's, that of Madame Murat, her sister-in-law, and those of all who were to accompany her. The carriage containing these ladies, instead of being in line with that of the First Consul, had come out on the Place du Carrousel at the moment when the machine exploded; its windows were broken also. Madame Bonaparte received nothing but a great fright; Mademoiselle Hortense was slightly wounded in the face by a splinter of glass; Madame Caroline Murat, who was then far advanced in pregnancy, was seized by such a fear that they were obliged to take her back to the château. This catastrophe had a great effect also on the health of her child. I have been told that Prince Achille Murat is still subject to frequent attacks of epilepsy. It is known that the First Consul went on to the Opera, where he was received with indescribable acclamations, and where the calmness imprinted on his countenance contrasted strongly with the pallor and agitation of Madame Bonaparte, who had trembled, not for herself, but for him. The coachman who thus fortunately conducted the First Consul was called Germain; he had gone with him to Egypt, and during an affray had killed an Arab with his own hands under the eyes of the Commander-in-Chief, who, amazed at his courage, had exclaimed: "The devil! there's a hero! He is a Cæsar!" The name stuck to him. It has been pretended that this worthy man was drunk at the time of the explosion. That is an error which his very address in tints circumstance contradicts in a positive manner. Whenever the First Consul, after becoming Emperor, went out incognito in Paris, it was Cæsar who drove him, but never in livery. It will be found in the Memorial of Saint Helena that the Emperor, speaking of Cæsar, says that he was in a state of complete intoxication; that he took the detonation for a salute of artillery, and did not know until the next morning what had happened. All that is inexact, and the Emperor had been badly informed with respect to his coachman. Cæsar drove the First Consul very fast because the latter had charged him to do so, and because he thought, for his own part, that it concerned his honor not to be late on account of the obstacle interposed by the infernal machine before the explosion. I saw Cæsar the evening of the event, who was perfectly recent, and who related to me some of the events I have just told. Some days afterward, four or five hundred Parisian hackmen clubbed together and offered him a magnificent dinner, at twenty-four francs a head.

While the infernal conspiracy was being carried out and costing the lives of so great a number of innocent citizens, yet without attaining the end proposed by the assassins, I was, as I have said, at the Feydeau theatre, where I was preparing to enjoy at leisure one evening's liberty and the pleasure of seeing a play, a thing for which I have all my life had a real passion. But hardly was I squarely installed in the box, when the doorkeeper entered suddenly and in the greatest disorder: "Monsieur Constant," cried she, "they say the First Consul has just been blown up; everybody has heard a frightful noise; they declare that he is dead." These terrible words were like a thunderclap to me; not knowing what I was about, and not thinking to take my hat, I ran like a madman to the château. I saw no extraordinary commotion while passing through the rue Vinvienne and the Palais-Royal, but in the rue Saint-Honore the tumult was extreme. I saw them carrying on stretchers some dead bodies and some wounded who had at first been sheltered in neighboring houses in the rue Saint-Nicaise; a thousand groups had assembled, and were cursing with one voice the still unknown authors of this execrable attempt. Some were accusing the Jacobins, who, three months earlier, had put poniards in the hands of Ceracchi, Aréna, and Topino-Lebrun; while others, though not so many, named the aristocrats, the Royalists, as alone guilty of this atrocity. I lent no further ear to these various accusations than the time required to force my way through a dense and enormous crowd; as soon as I could I resumed my course, and in two seconds was at the Carrousel. I sprang toward the wicket, but at the same moment the two sentinels crossed bayonets on my breast. It was of no use for me to cry that I was the First Consul's valet de chambre; my bare head, my distracted air, the disorder of my whole person and of my ideas, seemed suspicious to them, and they obstinately and most energetically refused to let me enter. I then begged them to summon the concierge of the château; he came, and I was introduced, or rather I precipitated myself into the château, where I learned what had just occurred. Soon after, the First Consul arrived and was at once surrounded by all his officers and his entire household; there was not a soul present who was not in the greatest anxiety. When the First Consul alighted from the carriage, he seemed very calm and was smiling; he even seemed amused. On entering the vestibule, he said to his officers, rubbing his hands: "Eh well! gentlemen, we have had a fine escape!" The latter were shuddering with wrath and indignation. Then he entered the large salon on the ground-floor, where a great number of councillors of state, and officials, were already assembled; they had barely commenced to offer him their congratulations when he began to speak, and in a tone so loud that his voice could be heard outside the salon. We were told after this council that he had had a lively altercation with Fouché, minister of police, whom he had reproached with his ignorance of this conspiracy, and that he had loudly accused the Jacobins of being the authors of it.

When he was going to bed that evening, the First Consul laughingly asked me if I had been frightened. "More than you were, General," I answered, and I told him how I had learned the bad news at the Feydeau, and how I had run without a hat to the wicket of the Carrousel, where the sentinels had been determined not to let me enter. He was amused by the oaths and unflattering epithets with which they had accompanied their refusal, and ended by saying to me: "After all, my dear Constant, you must bear them no ill will for it; they were only doing their duty. They were honest men, on whom I can rely." The fact is that the consular guard was not less loyal at this epoch than when it afterwards received the title of imperial guard. At the first rumor of the danger incurred by the First Consul, all the soldiers of this faithful troop had spontaneously assembled in the court of the Tuileries.

After this fatal catastrophe, which disturbed all France and put so many families in mourning, the entire police force was actively employed in searching for its authors. The household of the First Consul was at once placed under surveillance. We were incessantly spied upon, without our suspecting it. All our proceedings, all our visits, all our comings and goings, were known; and likewise our friends and connections, and we ourselves were under inspection. But such was the devotion of each and all of us to the person of the First Consul, so great was the affection he could inspire in those about him, that not one of those in his service was suspected for an instant of being implicated in this infamous attempt. Neither then, nor in any affair of the sort, were the people of his own household ever compromised, and never has the name of the least of the Emperor's servants been found mixed up in criminal schemes against a life so dear and glorious.

The minister of police suspected the Royalists of this outrage. The First Consul accused nothing but the conscience of the Jacobins, heavy enough already, it must be owned, with crimes as odious. One hundred and thirty of these men, the most prominent of the party, were transported merely on suspicion and without trial. It is well known that the discovery, trial, and execution of Saint-Régent and Carbon, the real criminals, proved that the suspicions of the minister were better founded than those of the head of the State.

The 4th Nivose, at noon, the First Consul held a grand review on the Place du Carrousel. An innumerable crowd of citizens were assembled there to see him and testify their affection for his person and their indignation against enemies who dared attack him only by assassination. Hardly had he turned his horse toward the first line of grenadiers of the consular guard, when the air was rent with countless shouts. He rode very slowly through all the ranks, exhibiting much feeling, and responding by several simple and affectionate salutes to this outburst of popular joy. The cries of "Long live Bonaparte! Long live the First Consul!" did not cease until after he had returned to his apartments.

The conspirators who persevered with such bitterness in their attempts on the life of the First Consul,' could have chosen no time more unfavorable to their schemes than 1800 and 1801, for at that period the First Consul was loved not only for his great military achievements, but also, and above all, for the hopes of peace that he gave to France. These hopes were speedily realized. At the first rumor that peace had been concluded with Austria, the majority of the inhabitants of Paris assembled underneath the windows of the Pavilion of Flora. Benedictions and cries of gratitude and joy resounded there; then musicians assembled to serenade the head of the State, ended by forming into orchestras, and dancing was kept up all night. I have never seen anything more singular and joyful than this improvised festival.

And when, in October, the Peace of Amiens having been concluded with England, France found herself delivered from all the wars she had sustained for so many years and at the price of so many sacrifices, no idea can be formed of the transports which broke forth on every side. The decrees ordaining either the disarmament of war vessels or the reorganization of strongholds on a peace footing, were welcomed as pledges of happiness and security. On the day of the reception of Lord Cornwallis, the English ambassador, the First Consul displayed the greatest pomp. "We must show these haughty Britons," he said the evening before, "that we are not reduced to beggary." The fact is that the English, before touching French soil, had expected to find nothing but ruins, dearth, and poverty in all directions. France had been described to them in the most sombre colors, and they imagined themselves about to land in Barbary. Their surprise was extreme when they saw how many evils the First Consul had repaired in so short a time, and the improvements he still proposed to make. They spread the news in their own country of what they called the First Consul's prodigies, and thousands of their compatriots hastened over to see and judge them with their own eyes. At the moment when Lord Cornwallis entered the hall of ambassadors with his suite, these Englishmen must have been struck by the aspect of the First Consul, surrounded by his two colleagues, the entire diplomatic corps, and an already brilliant military court. Amidst all these rich uniforms his own was remarkable for its simplicity; but the diamond called the Regent, which had been pawned by the Directory, and redeemed within a few days by the First Consul, glittered in the hilt of his sword.


1. The prefect of police sent a report to the consuls in which, after having recounted the details of this frightful event, he gave the list of killed and wounded. There were eight of the former and twenty-eight of the latter.

"Forty-six horses," adds the report, "were extremely damaged.
"The damage to real estate is estimated at the sum of 40,845 francs.
"To furniture, at 123,645 francs.
"The national buildings are not comprised in this estimate.
"The horse, the remains of the vehicle, and several portions of the casks were taken to the prefecture.
"These remains have been scrupulously collected. A description of the horse has been drawn up with the greatest care."

M. Dubois had thought it his duty to end his report by a compliment to the First Consul, in which there was, notwithstanding, considerable truth; viz., that the attempt of the 3d Nivose had redoubled the attachment of the French to the head of the State. Here is the last paragraph but one of the report:

"From the very first moment of the explosion an inquest was made on the spot. Declarations were received; and even amidst the cries of anguish uttered by the wretched victims of the most atrocious of outrages, the heart could still experience an agreeable sensation; these unfortunates forgot themselves to think only of the First Consul; it was for him that they demanded vengeance."
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