The militia appeared all along the barricade, bayonets thrusting towards the defenders as the government troops rose up and defended themselves, using their bayonets or wielding their muskets like clubs. Napleon’s sword was in his hand and his heart beat wildly as he stepped up to the barricade. To his left a grenadier was locked in a duel with a stocky man in a black cap, their bayonets scraping as each tested the other’s strength.With a snarl the militiaman thrust the other’s weapon aside and made to thrust his point home. Napoleon slashed his sword down on to the barrel and the point thudded harmlessly into a meal bag, tearing the material open instantly.The grenadier swung his butt up, smashing it into the militiaman’s face, and he collapsed with a grunt. The grenadier grinned and nodded his thanks to Napoleon before turning to face the next attacker.

For a moment Napoleon found that he had no one to engage. He glanced to both sides and saw that, even though his men were holding the line, the rest of the mob were piling into the rear of the militia battalion and soon the sheer weight of numbers must overwhelm the defenders.

Junot appeared beside him. ‘Hot work.’

‘Where’s Murat?’

‘He’s entering the courtyard, over there.’ Junot gestured with his arm.

‘Then tell him to charge now. Now, or the fight is lost!’

When Junot had gone, Napoleon stepped back from the line and filled his lungs.‘Grenadiers! Gunners! Fall back to the palace! Fall back!’

His men obeyed at once, as best as they could. Some ran back from the barricade, others retreated with their weapons levelled, ready to fight off their pursuers. In the thick smoke along the fighting line the militia did not immediately realise what was happening and there was a moment’s delay before a triumphant cheer swept through their ranks and they began to clamber over the rough barricade and charged after the government troops. Napoleon raced at the head of his men, making for the stairs that led up to the main entrance. He sprinted to the top and turned round to face his soldiers.

‘Form up here! Quickly, damn you!’