On hearing the first shots I wished to go to my post near the marshal, whose hotel was close to my lodging. I leapt on my horse, and was going out, when my host, the venerable member of the Indian Council, stopped me, pointing out that the street was occupied by some thirty armed insurgents, whom it was clear that I could not escape. I remarked to the excellent man that my honour required me to brave all dangers in order to get to my general. He advised me to go out on foot, and leading me to the end of the garden, opened a little gate, and very kindly himself led me by back lanes to the rear of Prince Murat's house, where I found a French sentry. This much respected gentleman, to whom in all probability I owed my life, was, as I shall never forget, called Don Antonio Hernandez.

At head-quarters I found great excitement, for although Murat had with him only two battalions and some squadrons, he was preparing to march resolutely to face the tumult. Everybody but myself was on horseback; I was in despair. Presently, however, General Belliard, chief of the staff, having given orders that some pickets of grenadiers should be sent to drive back the enemy's sharpshooters, who already were occupying the approaches to the palace, I offered to guide one of them through the street in which the house of Don Hernandez stood, and as soon as the gate was cleared I got my horse and joined Prince Murat.

No military duty is more dangerous than that of a staff officer in a country, still more in a city, which is in a state of insurrection. Having to go almost always alone through the midst of the enemy when carrying orders to the troops, he is exposed to the risk of assassination without the power of defending himself. Hardly was Murat out of his palace when he sent off officers to all the officers round Madrid with orders to bring the troops in by all the gates at once. The cavalry of the imperial guard and a division of dragoons were quartered at Buen Retiro. This was one of the nearest camps to head-quarters, but one of the most dangerous to reach, since in order to get there it was necessary to go through the two largest streets of the town, those of Alcalà and San Gronimo, where nearly every window was lined with Spanish sharpshooters. I need not say that, as this was the most difficult mission, the commander-in-chief did not assign it to one of his regular aides-de-camp. It was on me that it devolved, and I started at a smart trot over a pavement which the sun had made very slippery.

I had hardly gone two hundred yards from the staff when I was received by numerous musket-shots, but as the tumult was but just beginning, the fire was endurable, all the more so since the men at the windows were shopkeepers and workmen, without much practice in handling muskets. Still, the horse of one of my dragoons was knocked over by a bullet, and the people came out of the houses to slaughter the poor soldier; but his comrades and I laid about us with our sabres, and when we had stretched a dozen of the rioters on the ground the rest took to their heels. Then the dragoon, taking the hand of one of his comrades, was able to run with us till we reached the outposts of our cavalry camp.

While defending the dismounted dragoon, I had received a blow from a dagger in my jacket sleeve, and two of my troopers had been slightly wounded. My orders were to bring the divisions to the Puerta del Sol, and they started at a gallop. The squadrons of the guard, commanded by the celebrated Daumesmil, marched first, with the Mamelukes leading. The riot had had time to increase; we were fired upon from nearly all the houses, especially the palace of the Duke of Hijar, where every window was lined with good shots. We lost there several men, among others the terrible Mustapha, that Mameluke who went near to catching the Grand Duke Constantine at Austerlitz. His comrades swore to avenge him, but for the moment it was impossible to halt, and the cavalry rode on rapidly under a hail of bullets. In the Puerta del Sol we found Murat engaged with a huge compact crowd of armed men, among whom could be seen some thousands of Spanish soldiers, who had brought guns and were firing on the French with grape. On seeing the dreaded Mamelukes arrive, the Spaniards made some attempt at resistance but the sight of the Turks alarmed the bravest of them too much for their resolution to last long. The Mamelukes, dashing scimitar in hand into the dense mass, sent a hundred heads flying in a trice, and opened a way for the chasseurs and dragoons, who set to furiously with their sabres. The Spaniards, rolled back from the square, tried to escape by the many wide streets which meet there from all parts of the town, but they were stopped by other French columns whom Murat had bidden to rendezvous at that point. There were also partial combats in other quarters, but this was the most important, and decided the victory in our favour. The insurgents had 1,200 or 1,500 men killed and many wounded, and their loss would have been much greater if Murat had not given the order to cease firing.

As a soldier I was bound to fight any who attacked the French army, but I could not help recognising in my inmost conscience that our cause was a bad one, and that the Spaniards were quite right in trying to drive out strangers, who after coming among them in the guise of friends, were wishing to dethrone their sovereign and take forcible possession of the kingdom. This war, therefore, seemed to me wicked, but I was a soldier, and I must march or be charged with cowardice. The greater part of the army thought as I did, and like me, obeyed orders all the same.

Hostilities had now ceased almost everywhere; the town was occupied by our infantry, and the cavalry received orders to return to camp. The insurgents who had fired so briskly from the Duke of Hijar's palace on the imperial guard when they first came by, had had the imprudent boldness to remain at their post, and recommence their fire as our squadrons returned. These, however, indignant at the sight of their comrades' bodies, which the inhabitants had barbarously cut to pieces, dismounted a number of troopers, who, climbing into the windows of the ground floor, penetrated into the palace, and hastened to take terrible revenge. The Mamelukes, who had suffered the heaviest loss, entered the rooms, scimitar and blunderbus in hand, and pitilessly massacred every insurgent that they met, the greater part being the Duke's servants. Not one escaped, and their corpses, thrown over the balconies, mingled their blood with that of the Mamelukes whom they had slaughtered in the morning.

Thus the fight was ended and victory assured. Murat had now to attend to two important matters: to report to the Emperor what had happened at Madrid, and to secure the departure of the Queen of Etruria, the old Prince Anthony, and above all the young Don Francis. The child, frightened by the sound of the firing, now agreed to go with his sister and his uncle, but this party could only travel by short stages, while it was important that Murat's despatches should reach the Emperor by the first possible moment. You will guess what happened. So long as Spain had been tranquil, the Prince had entrusted his frequent reports to members of his regular staff; but now that it was a question of crossing a great part of the kingdom in the midst of a population who, at the news of the fighting at Madrid would be ready to murder French officers, it became a job for a supernumerary aide-de-camp. As I quite expected, although according to the roster for duty it was not my turn to go, this dangerous mission was entrusted to me, and I accepted it without remark.

Murat, who quite misjudged the Castilian character, imagined that they would be frightened by the suppression of the revolt at Madrid, and would make a complete submission without venturing to take up arms. As he flattered himself that Napoleon destined him for the throne of Charles IV. he was beaming, and, as he handed me the despatches, said more than once: 'You may repeat to the Emperor what I say in this letter; my victory over the insurgents in the capital assures us the peaceable possession of Spain.' I did not believe a word of it, but was careful not to say so, and merely asked permission to take advantage as far as Buitrago of the escort which was going with the Spanish princes. I knew that many peasants from the neighbourhood who had taken part in the outbreak were now hiding in the country villages, and would be quite ready to attack me if I left the town. Murat recognised the justice of my remark. I hired a horse, and travelling with the escort reached Buitrago that evening. The princes were to sleep there, so from that point there was no more escort for me, and I had to launch out into the unknown.

Our dragoon officers, seeing me make ready to start at nightfall to cross the Guadarrama Mountains, advised me to wait for daylight. But in the first place I knew that the despatches were urgent, and I did not wish the Emperor and Murat to accuse me of having slackened my pace through fear, and further I knew that the quicker I got away from the neighbourhood of the capital, and outstripped the news of the fighting, the less I should have to fear the exasperation of the people on my road. I found, in fact, that the inhabitants of Buitrago had received their first news of what had happened that morning at Madrid from the muleteers who conducted the princes' carriages, but as the postilion whom I took from Buitrago had probably heard the news from the one who had brought me there, I resolved to get rid of him by a trick. After we had gone about two leagues, I told the man that I had left in the stable of the post a handkerchief containing 20 douros (4l.), and that while I considered the money as practically lost, I thought it was still just possible that no one had found it, and that he must therefore go back at once to Buitrago, and that if he brought me the handkerchief and its contents at the next stage, where I would wait for him he should have five douros for himself. Delighted with the prospect of this windfall, the postilion turned back at once, and I went on to the next stage. Nothing had been heard there of the fighting; I was in uniform: but to remove any suspicion which the postmaster and his people might have at seeing me arrive alone, I told them that the horse of the postilion who had been with me having fallen and hurt himself, I had advised the man to walk him back to Buitrago. They gave me at once a fresh horse and another postilion, and I galloped off without any qualms about disappointing the Buitrago postilion. The important thing was, that I was now in sole possession of my secret, and I knew that if I stopped nowhere, I could reach Bayonne before rumour had brought the intelligence of the events at Madrid.

All night I travelled through the mountains—the road is good, and at daybreak I entered L'Herma. Here there was a French garrison, as indeed there was in every town which I had to pass on the way to Bayonne. Everywhere the generals and officers offered me refreshment, asking what news there was; but I kept my mouth shut, fearing lest an accident should compel me to halt somewhere, and so be outstripped by news which I had myself spread, whereby I should be exposed to an attack from the peasants.

From Madrid to Bayonne is the same distance as from Bayonne to Paris; that is to say 225 leagues, a long journey when one has to ride post with one's sword by one's side without a single quarter of an hour's rest, and in a scorching heat. I was tired out and overcome with the need of sleep, but I did not yield to it for a moment, knowing well the necessity for getting on quickly. To keep awake I paid the postillions something extra on condition that as we galloped they should sing to me their Spanish songs. At last I saw the Bidassoa, and entered France.

Maraac is only two stages from Saint-Jean de Luz. I got there on May 5, covered with dust, at the moment when the Emperor was taking an after-dinner walk in the park with the Queen of Spain on his arm and Charles IV. beside him. The Empress Josephine and the Princes Ferdinand and Charles followed them, and the rear was brought up by Marshal Duroc and several ladies. As soon as the Emperor was informed by the aide-de-camp on duty that an officer had arrived with despatches from Prince Murat, he came towards me, followed by the members of the Spanish royal family, and asked aloud: 'What news from Madrid?' The presence of the listeners was embarrassing, and as I thought that Napoleon would no doubt be glad to have the first fruits of my intelligence, I deemed it wise to do nothing but present my despatches to the Emperor and look steadily at him without answering his question. His Majesty understood me, and retired a few paces to read Murat's report. Having finished, he called me and went towards a solitary garden-walk, asking me all the time many questions about the fighting at Madrid. I could easily see that he shared Murat's opinion and considered that the victory of May 2 must put an end to all resistance in Spain. I held the contrary belief, and if Napoleon had asked my view I should have thought it dishonourable to conceal it; but I had to confine myself to answering the Emperor's questions with due respect, and I could only indirectly let him know my presentiments. In narrating the revolution at Madrid I depicted in most vivid terms the despair of the people at hearing that the remaining members of the royal family were to be carried away, the fierce courage which the inhabitants, even the women, had shown during the fighting, the gloomy and threatening demeanour retained by the populace after our victory. I might perhaps have revealed all my thoughts, but Napoleon cut short my thoughts, exclaiming: 'Bah! they will calm down and will bless me as soon as they see their country freed from the discredit and disorder into which it has been thrown by the weakest and most corrupt administration that ever existed.' After this outburst, uttered in a sharp tone, Napoleon sent me back to the end of the garden to request the King and Queen of Spain to come to him, and followed me slowly reading over Murat's despatches. The ex-sovereigns came forward alone to meet the Emperor, and I suppose he informed them of the fighting at Madrid, for Charles came up quickly to his son Ferdinand, and said to him in a loud voice and in a tone of extreme anger: 'Wretch! you may now be satisfied! Madrid has been bathed in the blood of my subjects shed in consequence of your criminal rebellion against your father; may their blood be on your head!' The Queen joined in heaping bitter reproaches on her son, and went so far as to offer to strike him. The ladies and the officers, feeling that this distasteful spectacle was not one for them, withdrew, and Napoleon put a stop to it.

Ferdinand, who had not replied by a single word to the objurgations of his parents, resigned the crown to his father that evening, less through contrition than through fear of being regarded as the author of the conspiracy which had overthrown Charles. Next day the old King, in his ignoble desire for revenge, encouraged by the Queen and the Prince of the Peace, made over to the Emperor all his rights to the throne of Spain on certain conditions, the principal one being that by which he was to have the estate of Compiègne with a pension of seven and a half million francs. Ferdinand was cowardly enough also to renounce his hereditary rights in favour of Napoleon, in return for a pension of a million and the château of Navarre in Normandy. As both these houses required repair, Charles, with his Queen, his daughter, and the Prince of the Peace, went for the present to Fontainebleau, while Ferdinand, his two brothers, and his uncle were sent to Valencay, in Berri, where they were well treated but kept under strict surveillance. Thus was consummated the most iniquitous spoliation which modern history records. In all times a conqueror in a fair and open war has been held to have the right to take possession of the dominions of the conquered, but I can say with sincerity that the conduct of Napoleon in this scandalous affair was unworthy of so great a man. To offer himself as mediator between a father and a son in order to draw them into a trap and then plunder them both—this was an odious atrocity which history has branded, and which Providence did not delay to punish. It was the war in Spain which brought about Napoleon's fall.

Still, to do him justice, with all his lack of political honesty, the Emperor was under no delusion as to the reprehensible nature of his action. I have heard, on the authority of one of his ministers, M. Defermon, that he admitted this at the council board, but he added that in politics one must never forget the great axiom 'Success and necessity justify the means.' Now, rightly or wrongly, the Emperor was firmly convinced that the only way of keeping the north in check was to found in the south of Europe a great empire under the protection of France, which could only be done by taking possession of Spain.

Having now this fine kingdom to dispose of, Napoleon offered it to his eldest brother, Joseph, then King of Naples. He has been blamed for not giving it to his brother-in-law Murat, who, as an experienced soldier, seemed better suited to govern a proud nation than the timid, careless, and luxurious Joseph. Doubtless when Murat first entered Spain everything about him, even to his extraordinary costume, delighted the Castilians, and if they had had then to accept a king from Napoleon's family they would have preferred the chivalrous Murat to the feeble Joseph; but since the fighting at Madrid their admiration for him had been changed to bitter hatred. I have no doubt that the Emperor had originally destined Murat for the Spanish throne, but as soon as he realised the dislike of the nation towards him he gave up the plan as impossible, and sent him to replace Joseph at Naples when he gave the Spanish crown to the latter. It was unfortunate, for in the war which presently broke out Murat would have been most useful, while King Joseph was only a hindrance.

In order to give some colour of legality to his brother's accession, Napoleon called upon all the provinces to select deputies who should come to Bayonne to frame a constitution. Many abstained, but the greater number answered the summons, some through curiosity, others in the patriotic hope that one of their kings would be restored to them. When assembled, they soon perceived that they would have no freedom of deliberation; nevertheless, whether convinced that a brother of the mighty Emperor could alone restore happiness to Spain, or urged by the desire of escaping from the trap in which they found themselves, they all recognised Joseph's sovereignty. Very few, however, remained with him, the greater part returning hurriedly to Spain, where, as soon as they arrived, they protested against the vote, which had been extorted from them.

I had left Bayonne on May 11 to return to Madrid with despatches from the Emperor to Murat. Throughout the provinces which I traversed I found people's minds much disturbed. It was known that Ferdinand, the darling of the people had been forced to abdicate, and they perceived that Napoleon was about to grasp the throne of Spain. An organised insurrection was growing up on either side. I should certainly have been assassinated had not our troops been in occupation of all the towns and villages between France and Madrid. Though I had an escort from one post to another, I was more than once attacked. A trooper was killed by my side in the defile of Pancorvo, and I came across the dead bodies of two of our soldiers in the mountains of Somo Sierra. It was the first taste of what the Spaniards were preparing for us. The despatches which I carried to Murat contained the official announcement of his elevation to the throne of Naples. For several days he was very gloomy, and at last fell so seriously ill that Napoleon had to send General Savary to take the command of the army—a task to which his military talents were unequal, especially in the difficult circumstances which were about to occur. Murat's illness for a time endangered his life. As soon as he was better he made haste to leave Spain. Before his departure he asked me if I would stay at Madrid with General Belliard, who wished to keep me. I had foreseen this question, and as it by no means suited me, after serving under several marshals and a prince, to be lost in the obscure crowd of the officers on the general staff and do postman's work under fire, earning no glory nor hope of promotion, I answered that I was still Marshal Augereau's aide-de-camp, that he had agreed to my doing duty with Prince Murat, but that when Murat left Spain I considered my mission at an end, and asked leave to return to my former chief. So I left Madrid with Murat on June 17. We travelled by easy stages, and reached Bayonne on July 3. There Murat took the title of King of Naples. The officers of his staff going to congratulate him, he proposed to us to follow him into Italy, promising rapid promotion to those who would take service with him. All accepted except Major Lamothe and myself; for I had firmly resolved to wear no uniform but that of the French army. Leaving my horses at Bayonne, I returned to Paris, and passed three happy months with my mother and Marshal Augereau.