As the sounds of the shouting from the drawbridge increased in volume the officer emerged from the bakery and stared towards the entrance to the citadel, examining the scene carefully. Then he drew a whistle from his pocket, raised it to his lips and blew three sharp blasts.
At once, his men on the drawbridge threw down their snowballs and seized the startled sentries, snatching away their muskets and knocking them to the ground. At the same time more French soldiers, fully armed, burst out of a side street and crossed the plaza at a dead run, surging across the drawbridge and into the citadel.The officer watched for a moment, hearing muffled sounds of shouted protests and harsh commands.Within a matter of minutes it was all over, and as the first of the bewildered Spanish prisoners emerged on to the drawbridge to be marched to a holding area in the plaza, the flag of the Bourbons fluttered down from the flagstaff on the central tower of the citadel. A moment later a new flag was hoist, and as it reached the top of the flagstaff a faint breeze caused it to ripple out. The blue, white and red colours of the French flag gleamed in the bright rays of the morning sun.
In the days that followed, many more towns and fortresses fell into French hands through similar ruses and more French troops poured across the frontier until, by the end of February, over a hundred thousand French soldiers were on Spanish soil. In Madrid many members of the junta and supporters of Prince Ferdinand were outraged by the French and openly cursed Godoy and the King for their complacency over such an affront to Spanish national pride. Napoleon read the reports of these events with glowing satisfaction. Everything was going according to plan.There remained only one last piece to fall into place: the final humiliation of King Charles, his Queen and their scheming Prime Minister, Manuel Godoy. A message from Napoleon was sent to the latter, via Fouché’s agent in the Spanish court, suggesting that the court would be well advised to quit Madrid before the mob gave vent to their anger.At the same time, the agent hinted to Ferdinand that his father was planning to quit Spain altogether and flee to Spanish possessions in the Americas.
One night early in April Napoleon was woken in the early hours by a servant. He blinked his eyes open and winced as he stared into the bright flame of the candle the man was holding over him.
‘Get that away from me,’ he grumbled, and the servant hurriedly retreated a couple of paces as his master stirred irritably.‘What time is it?’
‘Past two in the morning, sire.’
Napoleon turned his back to the man and instinctively reached his arm across to the other side of the bed. But there was no one there. Josephine had refused to sleep with him since that night in Malmaison, and a frosty cordiality often divided them when they were together now. Napoleon thrust her from his mind.
‘What is the reason for waking me at this ungodly hour?’
‘Sire, there is a messenger from Marshal Murat waiting in your study. He bears urgent news from Madrid.’
Napoleon was fully awake in an instant, and throwing back his bedclothes he rose to his feet and clicked his fingers. ‘Bring me a warm gown.’
‘Yes, sire.’
Slipping his feet into soft slippers, Napoleon allowed the servant to slip the woollen gown over his shoulders. He pulled the folds tightly around his body and quickly tied the sash before pacing from the sleeping chamber and down the dimly lit corridor to the suite of offices at the far end.The courier stiffened to attention as he entered the study. Flames flickered in a candelabra set on the desk and by their light Napoleon saw that the messenger was a young colonel of hussars, splattered with mud and trying not to collapse with exhaustion.
‘You can eat and rest when we are done.’ Napoleon forced himself to smile. ‘I understand you have a report for me. From Murat.’
‘Yes, sire.’The courier opened the flap of the bag at his side and took out a waterproofed and sealed leather tube, which he handed to his Emperor.
‘I will read this later,’ said Napoleon. ‘First, are you able to give me a detailed verbal report?’
‘Yes, sire. That was why the marshal chose me.’
‘Very well.’ Napoleon smiled. ‘Proceed.’
The colonel rapidly collected his thoughts, cleared his throat and began. ‘In accordance with his orders, Marshal Murat was advancing towards Madrid. As far as the Spaniards knew we were marching south, to lay siege to Gibraltar. The story seemed to hold up well enough, sire. We met no resistance of any kind and were still four days’ march from Madrid when we heard that the King and his court had made an attempt to escape to Cadiz. They had got as far as Aranjuez, some twenty leagues south of the capital, when a mob of Ferdinand’s supporters caught up with them and surrounded Godoy’s palace, where they had stopped for the night. The mob stormed the palace and beat Godoy close to death before Ferdinand intervened and saved his life.’
‘A pity.’
‘Yes, sire. After that the King and Queen were placed under house arrest, before the King was forced to abdicate in favour of his son. Ferdinand immediately proclaimed himself Ferdinand VII of Spain and returned to the capital to secure the junta’s confirmation of his title. But the junta is split, sire. Some back Charles, although most support Ferdinand.There was violence in the streets when word of the coup got out.The marshal took an advance force of cavalry and entered Madrid the following day. The people actually came out and cheered us, sire. They are heartily sick of the civil strife that has plagued Madrid for months now. They assumed that the French army had been sent to restore order.’
‘Good.’ Napoleon nodded. ‘Carry on.’
‘Well, sir, Marshal Murat was not certain how to proceed. Events had rather superseded his orders. He was not sure whether to back Charles or Ferdinand. The marshal says that Charles is far too unpopular amongst his people to survive for long on the throne. On the other hand, Ferdinand makes no secret of his hatred for the French, and cannot be trusted.’
‘And what has Murat done to resolve the situation?’ Napoleon asked anxiously.
‘Nothing, sire. He has placed Charles under protective custody and he has refused to recognise Ferdinand as King. He awaits instructions from your majesty.’
‘Murat has done the right thing.’ Napoleon was relieved. For once his cavalry commander had managed to act with discretion. The situation was very promising, he mused. Very promising indeed. There was much that could be gained if he acted quickly. He focused his attention on the colonel again. ‘You must return to Madrid in the morning.’
‘Yes, sire.’ If the young officer was dreading the prospect of several more days in the saddle, he had the sense not to show it.
‘I will have instructions drafted for Marshal Murat. But in case there is any misunderstanding of the written word you are to make it clear to Murat that he is not to intervene on either side at any cost. Nor is he to permit our soldiers to be quartered in Madrid.They must remain in the suburbs and be kept in check. The very last thing we can afford is any of the usual high-handedness with the local people. Murat is to make it clear to the Spanish that he is there to keep the peace and to help Spain improve its institutions in the interests of the common people. Lastly, I want him to instruct Ferdinand to meet me at Bayonne later this month. He is to tell Ferdinand that I wish to discuss the best way to reconcile the differences of opinion that currently divide Spain. Once Ferdinand is on his way to Bayonne, Murat is to wait two days and then send Charles to join him at Bayonne, on the same pretext.’ Napoleon looked closely at the weary officer.‘Is that all clear, Colonel?’