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!
[Illustration: MANUEL GARCIA'S FATHER.]