CHAPTER X.

THE PRADO-BUEN RETIRO-ARTILLERIA-BOTANICAL GARDEN -PLAZA DE TOROS BULL-FIGHT-PRIVATE GALLERIESHINTS TO COLLECTORS OF PAINTINGS-MUSEUM-GENERAL REMARKS ON SPANISH ART.

THE Prado is the great and the only promenade in Madrid, for, although there are some other tolerable pleasant spots, such as the Delicias, and one or two of the little squares, such as Bilboa, &c., that have trees in them, they are nothing compared to the Prado. Passing down the splendid street of Calle de Alcala, which widens as you approach the promenade, you enter, to the right, a fine avenue, about one thousand five hundred feet long and two hundred wide, extending to the museum and Calle de San Jeronimo. This is the principal lounge, called the Salon, and is a simple gravel walk, with an avenue of poor trees, but without flowers or grass, though, in truth, there is no room for such

additions, the living mass of promenaders occupying, on fête days, every yard of the ground.

A balloon, a greater novelty in Madrid than in London, ascended from the neighbourhood the last time I visited the Prado, and the weather having been wet for a week and the Sunday evening beautifully fine, it was scarcely possible to get through the crowd of well-dressed people. Almost all the ladies have now the good taste to wear the graceful mantilla, though the Queen and her ladies had bonnets. There was little beauty of a high class, but a great many nice-looking, tall, well-made women, very lady-like and graceful in their appearance, though not so much so as the Sevillians or any Andalusians. They were all remarkably well dressed, but generally in the French fashion, with the exception of the mantilla.

Besides the crowds on foot, the drive was full of handsome equipages; I do not recollect to have seen in any metropolis, except London, so many smart carriages, good horses, and neat liveries, and there were also many gentlemen on horseback. Narvaez, with a countenance expressive of the energy and determination which have subdued Spain, was in a green English brougham, with a pair of horses; his carriage may easily be recognised, being the only one with a chasseur with a plume of feathers in his hat. The Prado extends some distance right and left beyond the Salon, and is orna

mented with fountains, which are not worth particular notice; but as a drive or promenade, it would disappoint all, if the gardens opposite be not taken as part of it; and then the public drive and fashionable lounge, combined with the charming retired walks, are worthy of the metropolis of Spain.

Opposite the Salon is the Garden del Buen Retiro. The part open to the public is extensive and very delightful; shady walks, flower-gardens, a splendid avenue, ornamented with indifferent statues, and a large piece of water, are its chief attractions. The most enjoyable part is, however, reserved for the Queen, and is certainly pretty. There are summerhouses, luxuriously fitted up, a rustic cottage, with a gorgeous Persian room, where the royal party often. breakfast and dine. Pagodas, surrounded with ponds filled with gold fish, a cottage with a representation of the good woman of the house sitting at the fire, rocking (by means of machinery) her baby, while her husband lies pale and emaciated in his bed, and when you enter, suddenly raises himself up in rather a startling manner. With the exception of this cottage, which was more calculated to amuse the Queen in her infancy than now, and the Persian room, the different summer-houses are only places for repose. One on a hill, commands a fine view of Madrid. Nearly thirty spires are visible, but the country around, green even as it is at present, looks dreary from here, appearing almost destitute of trees.

This hill is artificial, being simply an immense dome of brickwork covered with earth. There is also a menagerie of wild beasts, a lion-panthers, zebras, monkeys, &c.; but the Queen does not appear to have much taste for quadrupeds, many of the cages being empty. Though there are few rare plants, the walks among the shrubs and flowers are pretty; the standard rose-trees are in great profusion and very beautiful. The Queen drives to these gardens every evening at half-past five, for an hour or two; the King, and also Queen Christina visit them occasionally, but always at different times. It takes about an hour or two to see them, one gardener passing you on to another.

Besides this delightful lounge, there is also a botanical garden, opposite the Prado below the Museum, which seems pretty and retired, but for some reason, it is closed this month. Near there is the artilleria, which contains models of guns, forts and harbours, and machines for the manufacture of cannon. The suite of rooms is fine, but spoilt by a roof painted in the worst taste. There is a trophy, in honour of Jacinto Ruiz, Luis Daoiz, and Pedro Velarde, who refused to surrender their cannon, on the 2nd of May, 1808, to the French; three men against thousands, and two of them perished. Adjoining the Museum is a granite obelisk, erected to the memory of those who, on the Sunday, were executed by Murat, to strike

terror into the Madrileneans, but their deaths roused all Spain against the invaders. A short distance from the Prado and the fine gate of the Puerta de Alcala, is the Plaza de Toros. The bull-fights are apparently finer at Madrid than at Seville.

The Calle de Alcala was crowded with thousands hurrying to the scene: such galloping of calèches, omnibuses, and carriages, such screaming and shouting, all hurrying as if they had forgot that their seats were numbered, and there was no fear of losing them ;a scene more animated could not be imagined. The arena was crowded to excess, Montes being expected, and, therefore, as usual, not a seat was vacant. The building is not remarkable, but it is a fine sight to see an arena filled with twelve thousand spectators. There were, perhaps, more banderilleros than at Seville, and their dresses were handsomer. To escape from the bulls, the chulos at Madrid are obliged always to leap the barriers, there being no openings as at Seville.

Montes was ill, but his pupil, Chiclanero, who took his place, is an admirable matador, and ranks as second only to his master. The horses were rather more valuable, and might, from their appearance, be worth £5 each in England; and the picadores seemed to incur greater risk; one was tossed by the bull, and a second time seriously hurt and compelled to leave the arena; another picador was also