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