CHAPTER II.

CHILDHOOD IN SPAIN.

(1805-1814.)

MANUEL PATRICIO RODRIGUEZ GARCIA--to give his full name--was born on March 17, 1805, four days before the death of Greuze. The place of his birth was not Madrid, as has been so often stated, but Zafra, in Catalonia.

What of the musical world in 1805? Beethoven had not yet completed his thirty-seventh year, Schubert was a boy of eight, Auber, Bishop, Charles Burney (who had been born in 1726), Callcott, Cherubini, Dibdin, Halévy, "Papa" Haydn, Meyerbeer, Paganini, Rossini, Spohr, Weber, these were all living, and many of them had yet to become famous. As for Chopin, Mendelssohn, Schumann, and Brahms, they were not even born; while Gounod, Wagner, and Verdi were still mere schoolboys when Garcia was a full-blown operatic baritone.

The year of Manuel's birth was the one in which the elder Garcia composed one of his greatest successes, a mono-drama entitled "El Poeta Calculista." It was this work which contained the song that achieved such popularity throughout Spain, "Yo che son contrabandista." When the tenor used to sing this air he would accompany himself upon the guitar, and by the fire and _verve_ with which the whole performance was given, he made the audiences shout themselves hoarse with excitement.

Among the most enthusiastic of his listeners were the weak old dotard Charles IV., King of Spain, and his son, the bigoted and incompetent Ferdinand, who had already made himself a popular favourite and commenced his intrigues against the Throne. Above all, one must not forget Don Manuel de Godoy, Prince of the Peace, who was carrying on a shameful intercourse with the Queen, and was undoubtedly at the time the most powerful man in the kingdom.

The two most faithful allies of England at the beginning of the nineteenth century were the small kingdoms of Portugal and Sweden.

In view of the sea-power which the Island Empire had gained since the Battle of Trafalgar, Napoleon decided that the strength of this alliance must be broken. Accordingly, on October 29, 1807, the Treaty of Fontainebleau was signed, by which it was agreed that the combined armies of France and Spain should conquer Portugal. The little kingdom was then to be divided into three parts: the northern provinces were to be given to the King of Etruria in exchange for his dominions in Italy, which Napoleon desired to annex; the southern districts were to be formed into an independent kingdom for Godoy, the Prince of the Peace; and the central portion was to be temporarily held by France.

In pursuance of this secret treaty a French army under General Junot marched rapidly across the Peninsula.

On receiving the news that the invaders were close to Lisbon, the Prince Regent, with his mother, the mad queen, Maria I., sailed for Brazil with an English squadron. Hardly had the Regent left the Tagus when Junot entered Lisbon on November 20, meeting with a favourable reception at the hands of the Portuguese, who resented the departure of the Prince Regent, and had no idea that there was a secret design to dismember the kingdom.

When the Franco-Spanish plans had thus reached a successful point in their development, the elder Garcia decided that the time was ripe for him to seek that wider success which he was ambitious of achieving. He had already made his name in Spain both as a singer and composer; but this did not satisfy him. Paris had long been the goal on which he had set his mind. And what more favourable opportunity was likely to arise than the present, when the successes of the alliance would naturally predispose the French people to give a warm welcome to any Spaniards who visited the country at such a moment? Accordingly he made his last appearance in Madrid in a performance of oratorio, and at the close of 1807 set out for Paris.

Soon after his arrival in the French capital he had an opportunity of making his _début_, for on February 11 he appeared in Paër's "Griselda." How bold a stroke this was may be realised from the fact that, apart from his never having properly studied singing up to this time, he had not yet sung in Italian.

The applause of Napoleon in the French capital proved to be no less enthusiastic than had been that of Charles IV. in Madrid--indeed, so great was the tenor's success that he was appointed to the post of _directeur du chant_ in less than three weeks, as well as becoming the leading tenor at the Théâtre Italien.

The following month brought with it the birth of his first daughter, Maria Felicita, who was destined to become famous under the name of Malibran. Some ten months later the mono-drama, "El Poeta Calculista" was given in Paris for the first time, on the occasion of the elder Garcia's benefit. Its reception may be judged from the fact that the performance of the operetta had to be interrupted for several minutes, so greatly was the singer fatigued by the constant ovations and insistent demands for encores. The success which he achieved during this first season in Paris laid the foundation of a world-wide fame.

Now, when Señor and Señora Garcia left Spain at Christmas 1807, they decided that it would be best not to take with them so young a child as Manuel then was, and accordingly he was left behind in Madrid with his grandparents, in whose charge he remained until his tenth year. This resulted in his passing through some historic scenes, by the memories of which, in his old age, he formed a link with the past which seemed wellnigh incredible.

Those were years of war and bloodshed, for, during his childhood, Spain was convulsed first by the throes of the Napoleonic invasion, and then by the successive campaigns of the Peninsular War.

Let us take a glimpse of the swift march of events, of which he must have not only heard reports, but in many cases been the actual witness during his sojourn in Madrid.

First, however, we will try to get some idea of the Spanish capital as it was in the early years of the nineteenth century.

We obtain the best impression from a book published in the year 1835, "embodying sketches of the metropolis and its inhabitants," by a resident officer.

The most striking feature of Madrid at this time, according to this writer, was the irregularity in the height of the buildings. It was not uncommon to see a wretched tumble-down-looking house supporting itself against the palace of a grandee, displaying its checkered, moss-grown, weather-stained tiling in mockery of the marble and sculpture of its next-door neighbour.

"The quarters of Madrid known under the name of the 'Rastro' and 'Barrios Bajos' presented a most unwholesome and ungainly appearance, being chiefly composed of hovels, with mud walls and tiled roofing, which contained but a ground-floor, and were inhabited by the dregs of the population. They were the purlieus of vice and crime, and were not only a disgrace to the capital, but would have been so to any sixth-rate town in the kingdom. This, and the great disparity in the buildings of Madrid at that time, may be accounted for by calling to mind the capricious way it commenced its importance as a capital.

"It had struggled on, a second-rate town, until the Emperor Charles V. of Germany (Charles I. of Spain), suffering under a severe fit of the ague, which he had caught in Valladolid, the royal residence at that time, came to Madrid for change of air, and recovered; in consequence of which he continued to reside there till his death. Philip II. decided its prosperity by ultimately making it the seat of the Court, and after this it was augmented by bits and scraps as a building mania came on, or as the times permitted."

The same discrepancy prevailed in the style and mode of living: everything was in extremes, both in houses, equipages, clothing, eating, and drinking. Luxury and misery, comfort and squalidness, were constantly elbowing each other.

As to the inhabitants, had an Englishman been transported blindfolded into Spain and his bandage taken off when set down in Madrid, he might readily have believed himself in a seaport town from the great variety of costumes.

"The _Valencian_, with his gay-coloured handkerchief rolled about his head in the Moorish fashion, a brilliantly striped _mantã_ thrown gracefully over his shoulder; the _Maragato_, looking for all the world like a well-fed Dutch skipper in flesh and costume; the man of _Estremadura_, his broad buff belt buckled about his loins, and a string of sausages in his hand; the _Catalonian's_ wild Albanian look and cut, a red woollen cap falling on his shoulder in the way of the Neapolitan mariners; the _Andalusian's_ elegant dress, swarthy face, and immeasurable whiskers; _Galicia's_ heavy, dirty son, dragging after him at every step a shoe weighing from two to three pounds, including nails, doublings, and other defences against a treacherous and ruinous pavement. All these might well have been taken for the inhabitants of regions hundreds of leagues asunder, differing as essentially in language as in costume."

But one of the most remarkable features of Madrid was the predominance of large convents in the finest situations and best streets, often monopolising more space than should have fallen to their share. The fronts of the holy houses extended themselves widely up and down the street, causing a dead blank, and destroying the symmetry of the _calle_. The monotonous appearance was, however, frequently relieved by the close-shaven heads of some of the "fathers" appearing at the little windows of their cells, condescending to look upon what was passing outside--faces, some fat, ruddy, and shining, others pale and sallow, with strange black beards and flashing eyes.

The nunneries, in point of usurping place and selecting the most frequented quarters of the town, yielded nothing to the male convents. There were no less than three of them in the Calle Alcala, perched in the very midst of the thoroughfare to and from the Prado.

The sisters used to have a number of latticed windows towards the street, whence they might see without being seen. These celestial spouses, as they called themselves, were very troublesome neighbours, for they were so chary of being seen, even when walking in their garden, that, not contented with running up a wall twenty feet high at least and spoiling a whole street, they insisted on doing the same service to all the houses which had the misfortune to be within eyeshot of them. Hence there would be seen whole balconies completely boxed up with sheet-iron opposite a long dead wall, with a few ascetic-looking cypresses peeping over it.

Here, then, we have some of the principal features of Madrid at that time, and it was not till several years after Manuel Garcia had left the capital that the first stir towards improving the place was made; for we read how in 1835 "commodious flagways are being laid down for the convenience and security of passengers. Moreover, the convents are to be pulled down," the same writer continues. "Few of these buildings merit respect from the shovels. Their architecture is vulgar and extravagant where the long dead walls do not constitute their only claim to admiration. Still I must confess I like to see a host of cupolas and minarets sparkling and towering in the glorious sunset. Nor does the flowing costume of the friars--black, blue, white, and grey--show amiss in the motley crowd of picturesque costumes paraded in the streets. Murillo has immortalised the cowl and cassock, and custom has rendered both favourites with the mass of the people, who will long regret the monks and their soup doled out at the convent gate."

And now to return to the point at which we left our narrative to set down these few details of Madrid at the time Manuel Garcia was residing there with his grandparents.

Spain had been the consistent ally of France since the Treaty of Basle in 1795. Nevertheless, Napoleon deliberately determined to dethrone his faithful friend, Charles IV.

Court intrigues gave him a splendid opportunity for interfering in the affairs of Spain. The heir to the throne, Ferdinand, Prince of the Austrians, hated his mother's lover, Godoy, and for sharing in a plot against the favourite was thrown into prison. He appealed for help to Napoleon, and Charles IV., on his side, did the same. Upon this, Napoleon began to move his troops across the Pyrenees, and a French army, under the command of Murat, approached Madrid. The population of the Spanish capital at once rose in insurrection and maltreated Godoy, who fell into its hands. Manuel Garcia was at this time just entering his fourth year, and the rising which he thus witnessed was one of his earliest memories.

Charles IV. at once abdicated, and was quickly forced to cede the crown to "his friend and ally," Napoleon, who conferred it on his brother Joseph, King of Naples, on June 6th.

But it was one thing to proclaim Joseph King of Spain, another to place him in power. The patriotism of the Spanish people was stirred to its depths, and they declined to accept a new monarch supported by French troops. In every quarter insurrections broke out and _juntos_ were formed.

One was able to get a graphic picture of the horrors of that outbreak from the reminiscences which Señor Garcia used to give, for it made an impression on his childhood which remained undimmed throughout the successive years of his life. Indeed, it was more than ninety years later that I recall his speaking of these scenes one afternoon when the ill-starred war, which his beloved country was at the time carrying on against the United States, brought to his mind the memory of that other war nearly a century before.

"During the weeks which succeeded Joseph Bonaparte's assumption of the Spanish throne," he said, "there arose great bitterness between the peasants and the invaders. Daily, when the roll-call was read, a number of French soldiers failed to answer to their names: during the preceding night the unhappy men would have been murdered in their beds by the inmates of the houses in which they had been quartered in the surrounding villages."

The French exacted terrible reprisals for this, and he vividly recalled the long line of men, youths, and even boys who were forced to run the gauntlet between the rows of soldiers on their way to wholesale execution. "Shoot every one old enough to hold a gun." So ran the cruel order, given out day after day to the soldiers in many districts.

On the 2nd of May a wholesale massacre of the French took place in Madrid, and the survivors were driven out of the town by the mob. In consequence of this, Murat was forced to retire with his soldiers beyond the Ebro, while the province of Asturias rose _en masse_.

But mobs and undisciplined militia can never stand against regular troops. The Spanish army was defeated, and on the 20th of July young Garcia witnessed the entrance of Joseph Bonaparte into the capital as King of Spain.

That same day, however, brought serious disaster to one of the flying columns which had been sent out in various directions. The Spanish insurgents at once rose in every quarter, and a guerilla warfare was begun which proved more fatal to the French army than regular defeats would have been. Napoleon for the first time had to fight a nation in arms, and Joseph Bonaparte was forced to evacuate Madrid within three weeks of making his royal entry, and to retreat beyond the Ebro, as Murat had done two months before.

Here he was joined by his brother-in-law with 135,000 men, and a rapid advance was made on Madrid, with the inevitable result that the Spanish capital was forced to capitulate, and on December 13 the young Manuel had the excitement of seeing the entry of the great Napoleon into the town at the head of the French troops.

The events of the next three years of the Peninsular War were not witnessed by him, for the place remained in the hands of the French until 1812, when he saw Madrid evacuated by Bonaparte, and occupied on August 12 by Wellington and his troops after the battle of Salamanca.

With his main army the English general now advanced on Burgos, which, however, resisted all his assaults; and the Anglo-Portuguese army had to retire once more into Portugal, while for the last time Joseph returned to the Spanish capital.

In the summer of 1813 Wellington broke up from his quarters, and, marching in a north-easterly direction, attempted to cut off all communication between France and Madrid. The movement completely overthrew the French domination in Spain, and Joseph Bonaparte fled with all the troops he could collect. Wellington followed, and came up with the French army at Vittoria, where he defeated them.

This victory, by which the invaders were driven back into France, was followed by a burst of national enthusiasm. The Spanish guerillas destroyed every isolated French post, and on October 8, 1813, Wellington crossed the French borders with his army.

A few months later Ferdinand VII. was restored to the throne of Spain.

Such were the events through which his native land was passing during the childhood of Manuel Garcia, and which he was able to recall in after life.

What memories and experiences must he have had to pour into the ears of his parents when, in the summer of 1814, he was summoned to join them at Naples, where they had settled two years previously, having been forced to leave Paris owing to the strong feeling against Spain!