A brother officer now joined with me in forming the plan of an
excursion to Madrid. We had long been anxious to examine that
celebrated capital, and were therefore desirous not to miss the
opportunity afforded by our near vicinity to that city, which, in all
human probability, might never occur again during the period of our
natural lives. We asked and obtained leave accordingly, and started,
on the evening of the 9th of October, like a brace of knights errant,
upon our eventful journey. The weather was fine for that season of the
year, and circumstances appearing favourable to our pilgrimage we
considered it advisable to proceed at a late hour, rather than wait
for the following day, inasmuch as, in our uncertain mode of life, we
knew not what a day might bring forth. We presumed upon our own skill
to find out the way, and, trusting to that, took neither guide nor
other attendant in our train, but sallied forth, mounted on a couple
of hardy mules, and scantily provided with any thing pertaining to
inward comfort.
Pacing along the Camino de la Reyna, a long extended avenue, we
arrived, as it began to get dark, at the Queen's Bridge, a solid
structure on the Tagus, whence proceeding as we imagined on the direct
road to Madrid, we jogged on heartily without apprehension as to the
course we followed.
The night became still more obscure and cold, and threatened rain. In
the meanwhile we pursued the direction diametrically opposite to that
we should have done; turning away from the main road, and leaving our
animals to make choice of any particular route they might in their
sagacity prefer. For some time we progressed, in a state of
uncertainty as to what point of the compass we were steering towards,
till at length, passing through a wide gate very invitingly open
before us, we were brought to a full stop, on a wild common, destitute
of any track, or vestige of even a pathway. In this awkward dilemma we
were completely at a nonplus, repenting sincerely of having set forth
at so late an hour upon our Quixotic expedition. To go forward at all
hazards was our only remedy.
The situation was by no means an enviable one, on a dark night in
October, shivering on a desolate waste, with a cheerless journey
staring us in the face, or a cheerless bed on the cold earth. To add
to our discomfort, we had the prospect of being exposed to the
inclemency of most severe weather. It might be truly said that our
experience was likely to be dearly purchased.--After an hour's
fruitless exertion to get out of the labyrinth in which we had
involved ourselves, we at last heard the barking of some dogs, and
immediately advanced towards the quarter from which the sound
proceeded, and were in no small degree gratified at finding we were
close to a village. We rapped most lustily at the door of the first
house we came to, and hailing the landlord, implored him to take
compassion on two weary travellers, and give us lodging until
daylight. Our call was quickly answered by a surly voice from within,
demanding our reason for disturbing his highness at that improper
hour; at the same time telling, or rather bawling out, in tones
denoting that we were most unwelcome visitors, the disagreeable
intelligence, that we were far from the high road, and should not be
able to find it during the night.--The Spaniard, however, directed us
to some farm houses for more intelligence, and, glad to get from this
inhospitable don, who treated us as though we had been house breakers,
we again began to explore the unknown region, looking out most
wistfully for something by way of a clue, to obtain the object of our
search. Fortunately we perceived, after much marching and
countermarching, a light twinkling through the gloom and mist around
us; and, struggling along over hedge, ditch, and drain, our faithful
quadrupeds carried us safely to the entrance of a poor hamlet called
Villa Conejo. Here the peasants were all comfortably wrapped up in
their beds. With some difficulty, however, by dint of both threats and
bribes, we succeeded in procuring a guide, who buckling on his
garments, and taking up a formidable staff, trudged before us with
boldness equal to the renowned Sancho Panza himself. We were assured
of getting into the right direction before morning, and, therefore, as
the time of our absence was very limited, we hesitated not to push
onward, notwithstanding the lateness of the hour, in preference to
quartering in the village, where, for any thing we knew to the
contrary, the people might think proper to be _quartering_ us in
another way, not quite so agreeable to our taste, before they suffered
us to depart.
In this mountainous district, the inhabitants of remote valleys are,
in many cases, either brigands themselves, or closely allied to such;
hence the necessity of being on the _qui vive_, and our fears were
fully justified by the fierce and bandit looking aspect of those dark
fellows who made their appearance on our arrival. With sinister looks
and angry scowls, they glanced at us in a manner that made us rejoice
to get away, chusing rather to encounter the howling winds than the
treachery of those suspicious gentlemen. Having no particular desire
to feel the sharp edge of their knives, that peeped from beneath their
girdles, we wisely pursued our journey in quest of new adventures, and
prepared for any rough work which might be in reserve.
Led on by our gallant pioneer, we once more faced the storm, and,
groping forward amidst the darkness, we pushed our way through the
intricate and trackless waste. Our trusty mules, following the
footsteps of the guide, carried us safely over the ground, proving how
much we owed to those poor animals for the service they afforded.
About midnight we passed the moorland, and arrived at a miserable
village, consisting of a few wretched hovels, scarcely offering the
privilege of shelter from the violence of the blast. Into one of these
we gained admittance, and, after some little parley with the landlord,
we were honoured with permission to stretch our wearied limbs on a
flinty bed, manufactured from rough materials, and thrown upon a floor
that had long been unswept by brush or broom. Our whiskered
aid-de-camp, having consigned us to the protection of the patron,
gathered himself up within the ample folds of his cloak, and rolled
into the chimney corner, where his nasal machinery was set agoing, and
soon produced an overture sufficient to banish sleep from the most
drowsy eyelids.
About 4 o'clock, we rose from our comfortless mattress, and, without
any unnecessary delay in the adjustment of the toilet, resumed our
journey northwards. On the first appearance of daylight, we descended
from the mountain path, and arrived near the little village of Bayone,
situated on the right bank of the river Guarena.
After passing through the small towns of Cienposuelo and Valdemoro, we
at length gained the extremity of the avenue or approach from
Aranjuez, and here, for the first time, we beheld the towers and
elevated buildings of Madrid. Crossing the Manzanares by the Puente de
Toledo, we entered the Calle de Toledo, a steep narrow street, which
conducted us to the Grand Square, from whence going into a small
central space, called Le Plaza de Porte del Sol, we brought up at the
doors of a tavern, under the sign of La Fonda François. Here we
enjoyed an excellent breakfast; our hostess, a garrulous dame, knew
well how to charge for the demands made upon her larder, by appetites
sharpened on the touch-stone of eight leagues; and, judging from our
meagre aspect, that our performances as trenchermen would be of no
despicable order, she determined that her pocket at least should be no
loser by our morning's ride.
The Alcalde with his satellites and myrmidons gave us considerable
trouble, teasing us with numerous questions, as well as a strict
cross-examination with regard to our object in coming here; and I
verily believe that, had we not been dressed in British uniform, they
would have furnished us with lodgings in a building not quite in
accordance with our ideas of freedom, or suitable to our state of
mind.--They, however, in a most ungracious manner, gave us billets on
the house of a wealthy Spaniard, living in the Calle del San Antonio,
which is a handsome street leading from the Grand Square. In these
quarters we enjoyed the comforts of a civilized life, for a short term
after the wandering and vagrant system of the bivouac, or encampment;
and we made good use of the interval allowed in viewing the _lions_ of
this extraordinary place, and in exploring every hole and corner that
was likely to contain anything marvellous or worthy of observation.
Manifold accounts have been given by sundry tourists respecting
Madrid; in order therefore to avoid all useless repetition, I shall
merely glance at a few matters, which may, perchance, have escaped the
notice of these curiosity hunters.
Our patron, Don Pedro Gonzalez, was a civil and obliging personage;
but as we had good reason to know that he was in the French interest,
we suspected that his conduct was not sincere, and we were the more
confirmed in this opinion, from the very marked attention paid by him
to a certain Madame, of vivacious manners, named Durand. The worthy
Don being a bachelor, appearances favoured the rumour, that an
intimacy of a more binding nature was likely to take place between
them; or, in other words, the love-stricken Pedro was about to become
a Benedict. To be on good terms with Mademoiselle was therefore
equivalent to the same happy circumstances with regard to our host,
who, accordingly, gave every facility to our exertions in gaining
admittance to public places; and was, on various opportunities, highly
useful to his guests. The conversation and agreeable disposition of
the gay Frenchwoman served to dissipate any melancholy thoughts that
might have haunted us. Without being decidedly handsome, she had a
very good set of features, and was of such a pleasant temperament,
that, although she was arrived at a reflecting age, her society was
courted by many admiring swains, to the no small annoyance of the
gallant Lothario himself, whose chief motive, in acting the part of
our Cicerone, was, that he might withdraw the Officiales Ingleses from
any temptation that might be presented to our susceptible hearts, by
the wily blandishments and ensnaring charms of his lovely _dulcinea_.
The principal places of amusement open at this time were the Opera
House, in the Calle de Principe, and the theatre denominated El
Collegio de la Cruz. What a college might have to do with the name
of theatre, I could not imagine, unless it were that the loose and
dissipated habits of collegians in general favored those entertainments,
or that the members of the learned institutions at Madrid were the
chief patrons of the stage. The house was opened at an early hour, and
filled by a respectable though motley audience. Among the singular
customs of Spain is that of placing the ladies and gentlemen at a most
awful distance from each other; a custom which in our minds would have
been more honoured in the breach than in the observance; and if we
might be permitted to judge from the bewitching glances of their
sparkling eyes, the fair senoritas would have had no sort of objection
to a repeal of such an unnatural _disunion_. Had the performances been
ever so delightful, they must of necessity, have proved "flat, stale
and unprofitable," to the senses of gentlemen, banished as we were by
such an abominable regulation from all intercourse or communion with
that portion of the assembled audience in which was comprised all that
was lovely and beautiful in nature's fair creation. The lunetta (or
pit,) resembled a den or arena of wild men of the woods--such were the
characters inclosed therein untamed by female influence.--The noisy
crew maintained such a loud and boisterous turmoil, that it was
impossible to hear one word that was uttered on the stage, and the
scene enacted in the pit or lunetta was something not unlike the
performances in a bear garden.
The balcos (or boxes,) fronting the stage, were occupied by the
ladies, who, decked out in costly attire, manoeuvred their fans with
such activity, that they might have literally been said to have
answered all the purpose of the eastern _punka_;[25] a cool and
refreshing air being thus circulated throughout the crowded building.
The house was but dimly illumined by some dirty lamps, scantily
furnished with oil. The music was tolerably good, although somewhat
marred by the rude accompaniment from our friends in the lunetta. The
play went off with vociferous applause, though the performers knew
scarcely a word of their parts--but, owing to the noise, pantomime
answered just as well. The prompter, an ugly caitiff, with black
bushy whiskers, and a woolly head encased within a greasy velvet cap,
was stuck up before the footlights, with half his body above the
level of the stage, as if about to emerge from the bowels of the
earth, like some dæmon from the nether region, while he, with angry
looks and threatening gesture, endeavoured to hammer into the
impenetrable skulls of the stupid actors the words intended for their
delivery.
[25] The punka, used in India, is an enormous kind of fan,
suspended in a room, and moved by ropes, to cool the air.
About 11 o'clock the entertainment was concluded; and we returned to
our lodgings escorted by a crowd of ragged boys, carrying flambeaux to
light us home. The Theatre De la Cruz, though smaller than that of Del
Principe, is ornamented with better taste, and is on the whole a
handsome building. In both the performers are tolerable, and the
dancing in the little theatre is beautiful beyond description. The
expense of admission amounts to nearly the same as in England. There
were no other places of amusement open during our stay.
Assemblies and private concerts were held in various parts of the
city; but since the war with France all public balls and concerts have
been discontinued. The famous bull-fights, deemed the most enlightened
exhibitions of modern times by the natives, were held on Mondays and
Fridays in the Plaza Mayor, or Plaza de Torres.
Notwithstanding the unsettled state of things the inhabitants of
Madrid seem to enjoy life to the fullest extent, and in the constant
pursuit of gaiety endeavour to dispel that gloom which would otherwise
pervade their city, and in which those of any other capital would be
involved. They appeared to act with the same indifference and
unconcern, when the French or British were in possession, and of those
two nations I believe the majority of them preferred the former,
which, if one may judge from the natural levity and liveliness of
their disposition, proceeded not only from their love of show, but
from similarity of manners, taste and habits. With the Spanish fair in
particular the French were the greater favourites, having, by their
gallantry and politeness, during their long residence, won golden
opinions, and gained a place in their confidence and esteem.
After visiting the Royal Palace, (a description of which I dare not
enter into, because the time for observation was much too short, we
proceeded to an edifice called La China, a fortified place, and where
the celebrated porcelain and China ware had been manufactured. A train
of gunpowder having been laid, preparatory to blowing up the works, no
person was admitted within, nor do I think there was any particular
inducement to press for entrance.--From a general glance at its
exterior, there appeared nothing to recommend it, for either beauty or
grandeur of effect. It is a plain building, of white stone, situated
on an eminence beyond the Retiro, commanding the principal part of the
city and its environs.
The Palace of the Retiro was not worth seeing, being merely a ruinous
square of low buildings, lately converted into a barrack, and having
within its limits a large and spacious court yard. It was palisaded
and strongly defended by works, which were considerably strengthened
by the French. Close to the entrance, is the Palace of Godoy, Prince
of the Peace, which faces the Prado, the great public Alameda of
Madrid. The fabric, notwithstanding its limited scale, is furnished in
a most costly and splendid style, and contained a large collection of
rare and beautiful paintings.
In point of magnificence it is equal, if not superior, to the Casa de
Campo, a country residence for the Royal Family, near the Manzanares.
After seeing the Royal Museum, (which, like all other museums, is well
filled with objects deserving the attention of the curious,) we
visited the armoury, (near the gate of Saint Barbara) stiled here El
Real Parque d'Artilleria, where valuable specimens of ancient armour,
and many plans and models, were exhibited. Some thousand stand of arms
were piled in harmless quietude, and arranged with order and
regularity.
King Joseph and his retinue thought proper to make free with the
carriages and other means of conveyance of the people of Madrid, with
which they drove off, leaving the owners to trudge about in a more
humble manner than they had hitherto been used to. The fair Senoras
were thus reluctantly compelled to tramp the pavé, exposing their
graceful and fascinating persons to the rude gaze of a vulgar
multitude.
On arriving at the extremity of the Calle de Alcala, we found
ourselves on that delightful mall called the Prado, already mentioned,
which is an avenue about half a mile in length; it is planted on each
side with uniform rows of various trees, whose branches are interwoven
through the greater part of the year. This promenade is kept in the
highest order, and between the double line of trees are gravel walks,
enclosed by shrubs and evergreens. At each end is a fountain of the
finest polished marble, the sculpture of which is executed in the most
beautiful manner. Here the Royal Family, as well as the nobility and
gentry, assemble for the passeo at the fashionable hours; to the lower
classes the walk is open at all periods.
They are an active and bustling people here, the various occupations
going on with a degree of spirit not easily accounted for in these
troublesome times. The number of poor, however, is very great; many
dying in the streets of starvation. We met several persons, male and
female, who had formerly been possessed of wealth and distinction,
endeavouring to obtain a livelihood by selling, in a private way,
different articles of their dress and household furniture. Others,
particularly women, whose looks bespoke their having lived in better
days, were reduced to the miserable situation of vending pamphlets or
small wares, or keeping stalls, or even hawking salt fish or
vegetables through the city.
Madrid was walled in ancient times; no vestige, however, now remains
of any such defences, it is completely open and exposed.
We now prepared for our departure to Aranjuez; and, therefore, for any
further information about Madrid, I must direct the reader's attention
to the recent works on Spain and its capital, wherein will be found,
in detail, the best accounts of all that is worthy the traveller's
notice. I cannot, however, avoid saying something of the mode of
access to their dwellings, which, from the difficulty caused by this
mode, might almost have been called forbidden ground. The houses of
Madrid are solid, and furnished as usual with balconies and
prison-like windows, and are sometimes of great magnitude; those of
the Alcade, and the Governor Don Inacio Cortabunio, forming one side
of a tolerably long street. Within the entrance of the great door is
usually a small rectangular passage, from whence the ascent to the
upper part of the building is gained by a narrow flight of stone
steps. On arriving at the extremity of the hall or passage just
mentioned, a strongly bolted door, which shuts in the staircase,
forbids your further approach; but, after considerable delay, you
discover a small bellcord, which you pull, and then another trial of
your patience takes place, and you remain still cooling your heels, at
the end of a cold dark place, not unlike a cavern. Your solitude is at
length disturbed by the sepulchral tone of an old weather-beaten
Sybil, who, peering with an ugly, wizened, and vinegar countenance
through a wicket or small crevice overhead, screams out, with shrill
and angry voice, "qui quiere!" while, at the same time, doubtful of
your rank or character, she scans with the hideous glances of an evil
eye the bearings of your person. When you have satisfied her on this
head, she, much against the grain, raises the unwilling latch by means
of a greasy rope. When the massive portal, creaking on its rusty
hinges, is pushed open, not without much force, and you find yourself
upon the gloomy steps to grope as best you can to the upper regions,
your advances are still impeded, either by the threats of the
garrulous antique, or by the barking of some furious Cerberus, a fit
companion for his sister guardian of the dwelling. When you are known,
and become familiar, the mode of admittance is by no means a work of
so much difficulty, nor is the frosty visaged Argus so jealous of
access.