some of the letters were even shown to Dulce. The Duke of Rianzares, calling one day on a minister, found Dulce there. "What is this that I hear, general?" said Queen Christina's husband; "is it true that you intend to shoot us all?" The question was awkward, but easily parried. A few days before the insurrection occurred, Dulce went over to Alcala, five leagues from Madrid, under pretence of inspecting the recruits stationed there. Seven squadrons of cavalry were in that town. Doubtless his object was to see if he could still reckon upon their following him whithersoever he chose to lead. I met him in the street after his return; I think it was on the 26th of June. He looked anxious and careworn. His position was certainly critical, and it is not presuming too much to suppose that a severe struggle was going on within him between a long habit of military discipline and duty, and what we must in justice believe to have been, in his opinion, a paramount duty to his oppressed country. For he was at the top of the tree. His position was splendid; his emoluments were large; he had but to persevere in his adherence to the government of the day to attain to the very highest rank in his profession-although that did not afford a more desirable place than the one he already occupied. Under these circumstances, even his enemies must admit however guilty they may deem him that he was not actuated by the selfish desire of personal advantage or aggrandisement.

Madrid, incredulous of an insurrection, was taken completely by surprise by the news that greeted its uprising on the morning of the 28th June. Some hours previously, it was informed, the director-general of cavalry, after mustering for review, in a field just outside the walls, the eleven squadrons that formed part of the garrison of the capital, had been joined by a battalion of the regiment of Principe, by a few companies from other regiments, and by General O'Donnell himself, and had marched to Alcala to incorporate in his insurrectionary force the troops there stationed. Other generals, it was stated, were with him, but for many hours-indeed for the whole of that day-truth was hard to be got

at, and Rumour had it all her own way. The aspect of Madrid was curious. The Queen and Court had left two days previously for the Escurial; all but two of the ministers were absent; those two were paralysed by the sudden event, and seemingly helpless. No measures were taken, no troops brought out; for a time it might have been thought that, as was reported, all but some fifteen hundred of these had left with the insurgent generals; for several hours the town was at the mercy of the people, and had they then risen it would probably have been their own, for many of the troops remaining in Madrid were disaffected and would have joined them. There was great excitement; the general expression was one of joy at the prospect of getting rid of a ministry than which none could be more odious; the Puerta del Sol and the principal streets were full of groups eagerly discussing the events of the hour; friends met each other with joyous counteances, and shook hands as if in congratulation-Liberals and Moderados alike well pleased at the event that threatened to prove fatal to the common enemy. I need not repeat the countless reports current on that day. The most important fact that became known was that the cavalry at Alcala had joined the insurgents, and that two thousand horsemen, some of the best dragoons in the Spanish army, were in hostile attitude close to Madrid, accompanied by a small but most efficient body of infantry. Towards evening the authorities began to awake from their lethargy of alarm. Ignorant of the fact that a line of telegraphic wires had been concluded on the previous day between Madrid and the Escurial, the insurgents had neglected to cut off this means of rapid communication; news of the insurrection had been transmitted to the Queen, and her return to the capital was announced. The streets were quickly filled with troops, illuminations were ordered (there was no hope of their being volunteered), and at about ten o'clock her Majesty made her entrance, passing completely through the town, having previously been to perform her devotions in the church of Atocha, whose presiding virgin is the special patroness of the royal

family of Spain-the gracious protectress for whom princes embroider petticoats, and whose shrine queens enrich with jewels, whose cost would found an hospital or comfort many poor. A young Queen, entering her capital in haste and anxiety, a few hours after a revolt against her authority, ought, one might suppose, to command, by her mere presence, some demonstration of loyalty and affection from her subjects. But the present Queen of Spain has so completely weaned from her the affections of her people, has so well earned their contempt, and even their hatred, that neither on that night nor on any other occasion that I have witnessed was a voice uplifted or a viva heard. A body of gendarmes, drawn up opposite to the ministry of the interior, cheered as she passed, and possibly the same may have been the case on the part of civil and military functionaries at other points of the line of her progress, but the attitude of the people and soldiers was one of perfect indifference. The same was the case on the following day, when she reviewed the garrison in the Prado, and conferred decorations and promotion on sergeants and privates who had distinguished themselves by their fidelity in refusing to be led away by the insurgents. Surrounded by a numerous staff of officers, and having the troops formed in such wise that as many as possible of them might hear her, she addressed to them a short speech, was profuse of smiles, and held up to them her infant daughter as if confiding it to their defence. Now was the time, if ever, for the old Castilian loyalty to burst forth in acclamation. But its spirit is dead, crushed by royal misconduct and misrule. Not a cheer was uttered, either by officer or soldier. The ominous silence was remarked by all present. It was equally profound as the Queen returned to her palace through the most populous streets of her capital, crowded on the warm summer night. It is said and believed here that, on reaching the palace, she was so affected and disheartened by the chilling reception she had on all sides met, that she burst into a passion of tears. Pity it is for the poor woman, who is not without some natural good

qualities, but whom evil influences and a neglected education have brought to sorrow and contempt.

I cannot pretend to relate all the incidents of the last fortnight, which has been crowded with them to an extent that baffles memory. The most important you will find in this letter-many of the minor ones have doubtless escaped me. I must devote a few more lines to the first day. An unsigned proclamation was circulated, of a tenor by no means unacceptable to the Liberals, whose chiefs consulted as to the propriety of rising in arms, or at least of making some demonstration of hostility to the government. Another proclamation, of greater length, signed by three generals, O'Donnell, Dulce, and Messina, disappointed them, for it contained not a word that guaranteed benefit to the nation, and spoke merely of the knavery of the ministers and of the necessity of getting rid of them. Moreover, a request was sent in by the insurgents that Madrid would remain quiet, and leave them to settle matters militarily. Between deliberation and delays the day passed away, and towards night the altered attitude of the authorities, who had received telegraphic orders from Mr Sartorius to act with the utmost vigour, the large bodies of troops in the streets convincing those who had previously doubted that there was still a sufficient force in the town to repress any popular attempt, caused half-formed plans to fall to the ground, and even the most ardent and bellicose resolved to wait the events of the morrow before shouldering musket and throwing up barricades.

The morrow was the festival of St Peter, a great holiday, kept quiet as a Sunday, with much mass and bullfights. I presume the churches were attended, but the bull-fights did not take place. Some arrests were made, but not many, for some of the persons sought after had concealed themselves. Madrid was still excited, but quite tranquil. On that and the following day every sort of rumour was current. The insurgents were near the town, and there were frequent reports that they were coming to attack it. Circulation was prohibited in the lower part of the street of Alcala, leading to

the gate near to which the enemy were supposed to be. The residence of the Captain-general and the officers of the staff is in the lower part of that street, and the constant passage to and fro of orderlies and aides-decamp interested the people: so that on the line of demarcation, beyond which there was no passage, there was a throng from morning till night, watching-they knew not exactly for what. From time to time there was a rush and panic-when the mob encroached on the limit, and the military were ordered to make them recede. The Café Suizo, at the summit of the street-which rises and again sinks over a small eminence-was a great point of rendezvous, and was crowded with eager politicians. Towards evening, on the 30th, the garrison (almost the whole) being out of the town, it became known that a fight was imminent, or already begun. This was in the neighbourhood; but as none were allowed to pass, or even to approach the gates, news were scanty, and little to be relied upon. Cannon and musketry were heard, and wounded men were seen straggling in. The fever of expectation was at its height. Public opinion was decidedly in favour of the insurgents. They would beat the government troops, it was said, and enter the town pell-mell with them. All the male population of Madrid was in the streets, a few troops were stationed here and there; there was no disorder, but it was easy to see that a trifle would produce it. I was in the Café Suizo, which was crowded in every part, a short time after nightfall, when one of the alarms I have referred to was given. There was a violent rush in the street outside, cries and shouts; those without crowded into the café, most of those within made for the open doors. The effect was really startling; it was exactly that produced by a charge of troops upon a mob; and I saw more than one cheek blanch amongst the consumers of ices and lemonade (the evening was extremely hot) who filled the café. But it was a groundless alarm, produced, as before, merely by the troops compelling the crowd to recede. Armed police circulated in the throng, dispersing groups, and arging them to go home. Soon the

streets were comparatively clear, but the clubs and coffee-houses were filled until past midnight with persons discussing what had occurred, and giving fifty different versions. There had been a fight, it was certain, at about a league from Madrid, but who had won and who had lost was a matter of doubt until the next day.

The Madrid Gazette, the order of the day, published by General O'Donnell, and conversation with officers present in the short but sharp action, enable me to give you a sketch, which you may rely upon as correct, of its principal incidents. The garrison of Madrid, consisting of about eight battalions of infantry, four batteries of artillery, and some three hundred cavalry, took position on a ridge of ground at about a league from Madrid. The enemy, strong in cavalry, but weak in infantry, sought to draw them farther from the town, and into a more favourable position for horse to act against them. As the result proved, the wisest plan would have been to persevere in these tactics, and, if the garrison refused to advance further, to let the day pass without an action. But General O'Donnell had assurances that a large portion of the troops opposed to him only waited an opportunity to pass over to his banner. A part of the artillery, especially, was pledged to do so. After some preliminary skirmishing, he ordered a charge, which was made in gallant style by two squadrons of the Principe regiment. In spite of a severe fire of shot and shell, reserved until they were within a very short distance of the battery they attacked, they got amongst the guns, and sabred many of the artillerymen, but were prevented from carrying off the pieces, and compelled to retire, by the heavy fire of the squares of infantry formed in rear of the artillery. Having thus ascertained, beyond a doubt, that there was no chance of the artillery coming over to them, or allowing themselves to be taken, the insurgents would have perhaps acted wisely in making no farther attempts upon the hostile line, or, if they were resolved upon a contrary course, in assailing the flanks, instead of again charging up to the mouths of the cannon. But it appears from O'Donnell's own bul

letin that the troops were not well in hand, and that, enraged at finding themselves fired upon by those from whom they expected a very different reception, they made several charges under the direction of their regimental chiefs, but without the sanction of their generals. I can hardly give a better account of the latter part of the combat than is contained in two short paragraphs of the insurgent general's order of the day, which has been copied in the government papers, and admitted by these to be a fair and true statement of what occurred. The bulletin is before me, and I translate the passages in question :

"The retreat of the two squadrons of the Principe cavalry (those which had charged the battery) was opportunely taken advantage of by the hostile squadrons of the Villaviciosa lancers, and of the Guardia Civil, who charged after them. This cavalry, however, was driven back, when in full career, by the 3d and 4th squadrons of the Principe, who routed them, cutting down a great part of them, and receiving into their ranks a large number of the soldiers of Villaviciosa, with their standard, and four officers, who reversed their lances, proclaiming themselves friends. In a second charge made by these same squadrons, the standard-bearer of Villaviciosa, and some soldiers of the same corps, who had joined us only because they considered themselves prisoners, went over again to the enemy.

"The bloody effect of the fire of the artillery, who,well assured that they would not be encountered by the same arm (of which we had none), had deliberately studied their range, and taken the breasts of our soldiers for their mark, caused the action to become hot, and the regiment of Farnesio again charged upon the guns, with great valour and determination. At the very mouth of the cannon its colonel was wounded and taken prisoner, and several officers and soldiers were struck down, our cries of Viva la Reina y la Constitucion being drowned in the roar of the enemy's pieces. Repeated charges of the same regiment, and of those of Bourbon, Santiago, and the School of Cavalry, must have convinced our opponents in the action of Vicálvaro, that the feelings which prompted those cries are to be extinguished in the hearts of our brave soldiers by death alone."

The upshot of the action was this: The insurgents accepted battle when there was little to be gained by them in so doing, unless, indeed, the con

test had been conducted very differently, and a more judicious plan had been adopted than that of charging headlong up to the muzzles of artillery supported by squares of infantry. But this mistake had its origin, as I have already observed, in the expectation that the artillery would not fire. The insurgents were repulsed, not, however, without inflicting considerable loss upon their enemies. The garrison returned into Madrid in some haste and confusion, and near the gate a singular incident occurred. It was dark, and some lancers appeared on their flank-insurgents, according to some accounts-a part of their own cavalry, as it is reported by others. The exact truth will probably never be known. But a panic seized the infantry; some of the battalions were composed in great part of recruits; young soldiers, retiring hastily and in the dark after their first fight, are easily alarmed; the confusion that ensued was as great as that of a rout; the men fired at random killing and wounding their own friends, and a great number, especially of the battallion of engineers, were thus injured. The government papers passed this unlucky mistake almost sub silentio ; but the fact is certain, the troops returned into the town in disorder, and it was not until the next day that all the wounded were brought in.

Some prisoners had been taken from the insurgents, including three or four wounded officers, the chief of whom, Colonel Garrigó, was captured amongst the guns, where his horse fell, killed by grape-shot. The gallant manner in which Garrigó had led his men again and again to the charge, encountering each time a storm of bullets, had excited a strong interest in his fate, and measures were taken to move the queen's clemency on his behalf. Before the result of these were known, and when it was thought probable that at any hour he might be judged, condemned, and shot, I went to the ward of the military hospital where he lay under arrest, to see another officer of cavalry who had been wounded when with the insurgents. This officer had gone out of Madrid to see some friends who were with O'Donnell; he was in plain clothes and without arms, but, ven

turing too far forward during the action, he got struck from his horse, and received, as he lay on the ground, a lance-thrust in the neck, of which, however, he complained less than of blows received from the lance-poles, when the men struck at him as they rode rapidly past. He had afterwards been taken prisoner by an officer, and brought into Madrid. In the next bed to him was Garrigó, a swarthy, soldierly-looking man of about fiftyfive; he had been hit in the leg, but not severely, by a grape-shot, and was sitting up in bed, fanning away the flies which entered in unpleasant numbers through the open windows. He looked gloomy, but firm. There were some other wounded officers in the ward, one of whom subsequently died after undergoing amputation of a leg, and a number of soldiers in an adjoining one. Amongst the insurgents, I heard there were as many killed as wounded; and many horses dead, the artillery having pointed their guns low. Grape and round shot, at fifty paces, the distance to which the cavalry were allowed to come before the gunners got the word, were quite as likely, perhaps, to kill as only to wound. An officer received two grape-shot in his face-one at each angle of the nostrils; another, Captain Letamendi, the English son of a Spanish father, who served during the civil war in the British Legion, was met by a round shot, which carried away the greater part of his head. But you will find nothing at

tractive in such details.

The combat of Vicálvaro, insignificant in its material results, had little effect upon the morale of either party. The government troops were assured by the gazette that they had achieved a glorious victory, of which they themselves were not very sure, especially when they saw the numerous carts of wounded that came into the town, and remembered their own disorderly return from the field and final panic. The insurgents, conscious that they had fought gallantly, and lost no ground, although they had failed in their chief object, which was to capture the artillery, were well satisfied with themselves, and in no way disheartened by the event. It was clear that the insurgent generals must not

reckon on the support of the garrison of Madrid, and they consequently changed their plans, retiring to Aranjuez, a pleasant spot, eight leagues from Madrid, with abundant shade, water, and forage, where for two or three days they gave their men and horses rest, organised their staff and commissariat, and took other measures necessary for the welfare of the division. There they received several reinforcements, both of infantry and cavalry, and were joined by a number of civilians from Madrid, many of them belonging to the better classes. These received caps, muskets, and belts, and were formed into a battalion called the Cazadores di Madrid.

Meanwhile, the capital anxiously awaited news from the provinces, where insurrections were expected to occur. Madrid itself continued perfectly tranquil, although occasional rumours of an intended popular rising alarmed the government. The excitement of the first three days subsided into a strong interest. There was great eagerness for news from the insurgents, and much difficulty in learning anything authentic, especially when once they had left Aranjuez. Save the government and its hangers-on and personal adherents, all Madrid was for the insurrection, and heartily wished it well. The recent compulsory advance of half a year's taxes, extorted from the people by a notoriously corrupt and grasping government, had greatly incensed the Madrileños, who did not scruple openly to express their good wishes for Generals O'Donnell and Dulce, the most prominent personages of the day and of the movement. Although the insurrection deprived Madrid of two things which it can ill do without, bull-fights and strawberries, not a murmur was heard on this account. Aranjuez is the strawberry garden of Madrid, and from it daily comes an abundant supply of that fruit, particularly grateful in this hot climate. I suppose that the insurgents, who had been for three days roasting in the shadeless desert that surrounds this capital, needed refreshment, and eat up all the strawberries, or else that the want of a railway-that to Aranjuez being partly in the hands of the