A Marshal in Limbo: Murat’s Frustration at Bayonne
In March 1808, Joachim Murat found himself in a peculiar position at Bayonne, the strategic gateway between France and Spain. As Napoleon’s brother-in-law and one of his most trusted marshals, Murat had expected a more glorious assignment than this administrative backwater. His letters to the Emperor reveal growing frustration: “I feel myself distrusted by Your Majesty,” he wrote on March 7, “remaining here without understanding my strategic position in this operation.” The uncertainty plagued him – were they preparing for a lengthy campaign or mere days of action? Without clear orders, organizing troop movements and supplies became impossible.
Murat’s predicament reflected Napoleon’s characteristic secrecy. The Emperor kept even his closest subordinates guessing about his true intentions for Spain. Meanwhile, reports trickled in about Spanish garrisons accepting French troops – Pamplona had already opened its fortress gates. But San Sebastián presented complications, prompting Murat to employ unorthodox methods. Claiming public health concerns, he pressured the Duke of Mahón, governor of Guipúzcoa, to allow French military hospitals within the city’s fortified walls. When met with polite resistance, Murat escalated his demands with thinly veiled threats about “demonic influences” endangering French soldiers. With only 400 Spanish troops at his disposal, the Duke reluctantly acquiesced.
The Spanish Powder Keg: Royal Scandals and Popular Fury
Murat’s correspondence reveals his growing awareness of Spain’s volatile political situation. Prime Minister Manuel Godoy, long considered the queen’s lover, had become universally despised. “According to latest reports from Madrid,” Murat wrote, “the crisis has reached its peak, and Godoy is detested by all Spaniards.” The royal family itself was fracturing – King Charles IV appeared weak and ineffectual, while Crown Prince Ferdinand positioned himself as the people’s champion against the unpopular Godoy.
This dynastic drama played out against a backdrop of French military occupation. Murat reported enthusiastic welcomes from some Spanish towns, with crowds cheering “Long live Napoleon!” along the road from Irún to Vitoria. Yet darker signs emerged: Spanish commanders grew suspicious of French troop buildups, and Godoy ordered General Solano’s division to return from Portugal, declaring French actions indistinguishable from an enemy’s. Barcelona saw French and Neapolitan troops roaming streets, sparking unrest that Napoleon dismissively attributed to “civilian behavior.”
The Aranjuez Uprising: A Throne in Flux
The crisis reached its climax on March 17-18, 1808, at Aranjuez. Popular fury against Godoy erupted into violent riots. The prime minister’s residence was sacked, and he barely escaped with his life. Under pressure, Charles IV first dismissed Godoy, then abdicated in favor of Ferdinand. Murat, advancing toward Madrid, received these reports with mixed feelings. While the turmoil served French interests by weakening Spanish resistance, he worried about perceptions: “What pains me most,” he wrote, “is that all these riots shout ‘Long live the Emperor! Long live the French ambassador!'”
Napoleon, ever the strategist, saw opportunity in the chaos. He instructed Murat to maintain friendly relations with all parties while consolidating French military positions. Privately, the Emperor had already decided to place his brother Joseph on the Spanish throne, though he kept Murat in the dark about this ultimate aim. The marshal’s reports grew increasingly anxious, pleading for clearer guidance: “A single word from you about your plans would suffice,” he implored Napoleon. “I would stake my head on their execution.”
Madrid and the Dos de Mayo: Blood in the Streets
Murat entered Madrid on March 23, 1808, with military precision. His troops arrayed in battle formation, prepared to quell any resistance. Initially, Madrileños welcomed the French as allies of the new King Ferdinand VII. But tensions simmered beneath the surface. On May 2 (Dos de Mayo), these erupted into full-scale rebellion when crowds attacked French troops attempting to remove the last members of the royal family from the palace.
The uprising caught Murat by surprise. With only a small garrison in the city, he acted decisively – dispatching cavalry for reinforcements while organizing his available forces to control major thoroughfares. The ensuing street fighting proved brutal: civilians armed with knives and makeshift weapons faced disciplined French volleys and artillery. Murat’s report estimated 20,000 insurgents, though casualty figures remain disputed – likely hundreds of Spanish deaths versus dozens of French.
The Bayonne Abdications: Napoleon’s Gambit
While Murat restored order in Madrid, Napoleon orchestrated his masterstroke at Bayonne. Ferdinand VII, lured across the border for negotiations, found himself pressured to renounce the Spanish crown. His father Charles IV, already in French custody, had earlier abdicated under duress. Napoleon now held both monarchs, clearing the way for his brother Joseph’s installation as King of Spain.
Murat, hoping for the Spanish throne himself, received bitter news: Napoleon offered him instead the Kingdom of Naples. His May 5 response mixed protestations of loyalty with barely concealed disappointment: “Tears stream from my eyes as I write… Power does not always mean happiness.” Though he accepted Naples, the decision marked a turning point in Murat’s relationship with Napoleon.
Legacy of a Botched Occupation
The events of spring 1808 set in motion the Peninsular War, a six-year conflict that would drain French resources and contribute to Napoleon’s eventual downfall. Murat’s initial successes masked fundamental miscalculations: the Spanish people’s fierce nationalism, the impossibility of controlling the countryside from urban strongpoints, and the British willingness to support the insurgency.
Historians continue debating the authenticity of certain key documents, particularly a scathing March 29 letter from Napoleon to Murat that first appeared in posthumous memoirs. Its questionable provenance suggests possible fabrication by Napoleon’s supporters seeking to shift blame for the Spanish debacle onto Murat. In reality, the marshal performed competently given unclear instructions and an impossible situation largely of Napoleon’s making.
The Bayonne interlude reveals much about Napoleonic governance – the Emperor’s tendency toward secrecy, his reliance on family members as proxies, and the dangers of overextension. For Spain, 1808 marked the beginning of a national trauma that would shape its politics for generations. And for Murat, it proved a missed opportunity that might have altered his tragic fate during the Hundred Days. The marshal who entered Madrid in triumph would leave Spain quietly, his health broken, his ambitions thwarted, and his faith in Napoleon forever diminished.