It has been affirmed that Napoleon was not brave. A man who, from the
rank of lieutenant of artillery, rose to be the ruler of a nation like
France, could not surely be deficient in courage. Of this his conduct
on the 18th Brumaire, on the 5th Nivose, and during the plot of Arena,
are sufficient proofs, if proofs were wanting. He was well aware how
numerous were his enemies among the jacobins and the chouans; yet
every evening he walked out in the streets of Paris, and mingled with
the different groups, never accompanied by more than two individuals.
Lannes, Duroc, Bessières, or some of his aides-de-camp usually
attended him in these nocturnal excursions. This fact was well known
throughout Paris.
The affair of the infernal machine has never been properly understood
by the public. The police had intimated to Napoleon that an attempt
would be made against his life, and cautioned him not to go out.
Madame Bonaparte, Mademoiselle Beauharnais, Madame Murat, Lannes,
Bessières, the aide-de-camp on duty, and lieutenant Lebrun, now duke
of Placenza, were all assembled in the saloon, while the First Consul
was writing in his closet. Haydn's Oratorio was to be performed that
evening: the ladies were anxious to hear the music, and we also
expressed a wish to that effect. The escort picquet was ordered out;
and Lannes requested that Napoleon would join the party. He consented;
his carriage was ready, and he took along with him Bessières and the
aide-de-camp on duty. I was directed to attend the ladies. Josephine
had received a magnificent shawl from Constantinople, and she that
evening wore it for the first time. “Allow me to observe, Madame,”
said I, “that your shawl is not thrown on with your usual elegance.”
She good humouredly begged that I would fold it after the fashion of
the Egyptian ladies. While I was engaged in this operation, we heard
Napoleon depart. “Come, sister,” said Madame Murat, who was impatient
to get to the theatre; “Bonaparte is going.” We stepped into the
carriage: the First Consul's equipage had already reached the middle
of the _Place Carrousel_. We drove after it; but we had scarcely
entered the _Place_ when the machine exploded. Napoleon escaped by a
singular chance. Saint-Regent, or his French servant, had stationed
himself in the middle of the _Rue Nicaise_. A grenadier of the escort,
supposing he was really what he appeared to be, a water-carrier, gave
him a few blows with the flat of his sabre, and drove him off. The
cart was turned round, and the machine exploded between the carriages
of Napoleon and Josephine. The ladies shrieked on hearing the report;
the carriage windows were broken, and Mademoiselle Beauharnais
received a slight hurt on her hand. I alighted, and crossed the _Rue
Nicaise_, which was strewed with the bodies of those who had been
thrown down, and the fragments of the walls that had been shattered
by the explosion. Neither the Consul nor any individual of his suite
sustained any serious injury. When I entered the theatre Napoleon was
seated in his box, calm and composed, and looking at the audience
through his opera-glass. Fouché was beside him. “Josephine,” said he,
as soon as he observed me. She entered at that moment, and he did not
finish his question. “The rascals,” said he, very coolly, “wanted to
blow me up. Bring me a book of the Oratorio.”
The audience soon learned the danger he had escaped, and they saluted
him with testimonies of the deepest interest. These, I think, are
unequivocal proofs of courage. The men who have followed him on the
field of battle, cannot be at a loss to quote many more.