“Duke of Ciudad Rodrigo.”
It was soon seen that Wellington did not intend to rest upon his laurels, for he scoured the rural park of the Retiro, where a French detachment still lingered, and took 2,000 prisoners and 200 pieces of artillery. This act completely confirmed the confidence of the Spaniards in the English commander, and the heads of families eagerly repaired to the churches to take the oath of the Constitution, which, however, conveyed little to them beyond their emancipation from the French and the approaching return of King Ferdinand VII.
It cannot be said that Wellington made himself very popular whilst he was at the royal palace. He received the attentions showered upon him in his cold and stiffly courteous way, and took little pains to be cordial with the people of importance who called upon him.
Wellington’s fancy to have his portrait painted by Goya nearly led to the future hero of Waterloo losing his life.
For, be it known, the illustrious Spanish painter was irascible to a degree, the more so that he was completely deaf. So when the great General made his appearance in the studio on the banks of the river Manzanares, the painter’s son interpreted the Englishman’s wishes in deaf and dumb language to his father.
The sittings took place, and the artist worked assiduously; and when he thought the portrait was far enough advanced to be seen by the General, he placed it before him. But, unfortunately, the picture did not please the commander, who shrugged his shoulders contemptuously, and said in English to his friend that he would not accept such a caricature as a gift. General Alava declined to translate this depreciatory remark; but the artist had noticed the scornful gestures of the Englishman, and the son in alarm saw his father turn his eyes to the loaded pistols which always lay ready to hand on the table. The young man’s fear was increased when Wellington rose from his seat in a discourteous way, and put on his hat preparatory to departure. Then Goya, enraged at the officer’s contemptuous manner, seized the pistols, and the General clapped his hand to his sword.
The scene would have ended in a tragedy had not Lord Alava assured the irate General that the artist was suffering from sudden mental aberration, and young Goya restrained his father by force from using the deadly weapons.
Wellington gave a great ball at the Town Hall the night before he left Madrid, and with this return for the bull-fights, serenades, and fêtes, which had been given in his honour, he took his departure from the Spanish capital.
The English camp in the Retiro was raised a month later by General Hill, and it is a matter of regret that the step was accompanied by the blowing up of the royal manufactory of porcelain, for the fabrication is now extinct. The magnificent walls and ceilings of one of the salons of the royal palace, decorated with cherubs, fruit, and flowers, in this beautiful ware, show that Spain boasted an industry which rivalled that of Sèvres, Dresden, or Worcestershire.
The reason given for this act of vandalism was that the French might have used the building as a barrack; but it did not satisfy the Spanish, who could not contain their indignation at the deed, which was made worse by the English withdrawing to Portugal and leaving the capital.