Collection
Vicente Joaquín Osorio de Moscoso y Guzmán Fernández de Córdoba y la Cerda, XIII conde de Altamira [Vicente Joaquín Osorio de Moscoso y Guzmán Fernández de Córdoba y la Cerda, XIII Count of Altamira]
- c. 1786
- Oil on canvas
- 117 x 108 cm
- Cat. P_132
- Commissioned from the artist by the Banco Nacional de San Carlos
In 1786, Goya painted a portrait of the Count of Altamira (Madrid, 1756-1816), ex officio director of Banco de San Carlos, to hang in the large assembly hall with the other portraits by his hand. On 30 January 1787, according to the documents of Banco de San Carlos, he received 10,000 reales de vellón for this work together with his portraits of Charles III and the Marquis of Tolosa. The count, whose titles made him a Grandee of Spain twelve times over, was described by an English traveller, Lord Holland, as the “[…] smallest man I have ever seen in society; even smaller than some of the dwarfs that viewers must pay to see.” In his time, this led to jokes that compared his small stature with his noble grandeur. Of all the directors portrayed by Goya, Altamira was undoubtedly the wealthiest. His fortune even surpassed that of Cabarrús, as it depended not only on his business and commercial transactions but also, and to a greater degree, on the magnitude of his properties and lands. He was lord of one thousand four hundred villages in Spain with their corresponding estates, and this alone ensured an annual income of over six million reales. His Italian estates in Naples, together with Sessa, Toraldo and Leganés, brought in over ninety thousand ducats a year, and he also had revenue from his estates in America. Moreover, his annual income from olive oil in Andalusia exceeded four hundred thousand ducats. In his writings, Cabarrús blamed much of the Ancien Régime’s failings on the economic inefficiency of the Spanish aristocracy’s immense estates, and it would be interesting in this respect to know more about his relationship with Altamira at Banco de San Carlos’s board meetings. Cabarrús wrote:
[…] the greater the property possessed by a single owner, the less well administered and exploited it will be... his expenses expand with the idea of increasing his income, but the latter dwindles through less careful administration; he earns less, spending more than all his ancestors combined, and the sum of territorial productions for the state is thus diminished by the accumulation of these entailed estates […] (Cabarrús, Carta Cuarta a Jovellanos, 1792, published in 1795).
Furthermore, Cabarrús had attacked the nobility’s privileges in 1784:
But where is the justification for a hereditary nobility, or the distinction between patrician and plebeian families? And do we not need all the force of habit to familiarise ourselves with this extravagance of human understanding? […] If nobility is to exist, it must be that of virtue, merit and talent […] (Cabarrús, Informe sobre el Montepío de Nobles, 1784).
Goya’s portrait of the Count of Altamira is one of the most interesting works from the singular period of the artist’s rise in the 1780s. It is quite different from his earlier portraits, such as those of Gausa or the king, and it even differs from his depiction of the Infante Luis’s family in 1784. His technique and broad sense of space had rapidly evolved, and so too had the elegance of the figure and the grandiose simplicity of the furnishings. This work is comparable only to some of the tapestry cartoons he painted that year, especially Autumn (or The Grape Harvest) from his Four Seasons series (Museo del Prado, Madrid), as Goya has not only changed his sense of space but has also radically altered his colouring, now more refined. Here, there are three central tones: the clear and brilliant yellow of the chair and tablecloth, and the red and blue that stand out against it. Goya does not hide Altamira’s tiny stature, but he disguises it with consummate mastery in this unprecedented portrait. Of course, Velázquez’s influence is clear in the broad, empty and dimly lit space that surrounds the protagonist, and in the foreground light, rich in nuances and contrasts, which bathes the figure and emphasises the small count’s self-assured personality. He exudes the pride and aloofness of his social class, accustomed to command and to the absolute respect of those around him. He wears his court uniform as the king’s steward, with the sash and insignia of the Grand Cross of the Order of Charles III, which he had received in 1780. The gold ring protruding from the pocket of his frock coat indicates his status as the king’s chamberlain and keeper of the monarch’s keys. With this portrait, Goya launched a new manner of painting, capturing details with less paint and in a more abstract manner that resolves the effects of the silver inkstand, the pens in the inkwell and the important documents on the table with magical perfection and less meticulousness. The count is surrounded by gold, but Goya depicts him with greater delicacy and elegance than we find two years later in his portrait of Cabarrús, who appears sheathed in a crisp silk suit with gold highlights. Clearly, the artist’s portrait of Altamira points the way to the masterpieces he was to paint in that same decade, including The Duke and Duchess of Osuna and their Children and his 1788 portrait of Altamira’s wife, María Ignacia Álvarez de Toledo, Countess of Altamira, and her Daughter María Agustina, as well as his magnificent depiction of the young Manuel Osorio Manrique de Zúñiga (both at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York).
The eldest son of Ventura Osorio de Moscoso y Fernández de Córdoba, Count of Altamira, and Concepción de Guzmán Guevara y Fernández de Córdoba, the daughter of the Count and Countess of Oñate, he inherited all his parents’ titles, manors and entailed estates. He married twice. He was first married in 1774 to María Ignacia Álvarez de Toledo, the daughter of the Marquis and Marchioness of Villafranca, with whom he had six children, and again in 1806 to María Magdalena Fernández de Córdoba, the daughter of the Marquis and Marchioness of La Puebla de los Infantes, with whom he had no descent. He died in Madrid in 1816 at the age of 60. All authors have emphasised his short stature. Goya’s portrait of him as director of Banco de San Carlos shows him seated in a chair, but this does not succeed in disguising his height.
With a doctorate in civil and canonical law from the University of Granada, he had cultural leanings and would attend the discussions that took place at the home of the Count of Campomanes, where he met certain leading figures of the Enlightenment like Cabarrús, Jovellanos and Floridablanca. He decided to catalogue his rich family library, entrusting the task to his librarian Pablo Recio. He was also a member of the Academy of Fine Arts. He collaborated actively with Cabarrús on the creation of Banco de San Carlos, of which he became one of the biennial directors in 1783.
He was one of the richest and most powerful men of his time. Before the Peninsular War, he made a great effort to manage his landed property well. In the 1770s, he applied for royal permission to return the ‘principals’ on the leaseholds of the estates of Astorga and Baena, paying the creditors with royal debentures. The operation was carried out in 1801. However, the financial restructuring of his estate was hindered by two circumstances: the construction of his palace by Ventura Rodríguez in 1771, and above all the expenses occasioned by the wars. When he died, his estate was practically bankrupt.
Through his entailed estates, he held a number of titles and posts whose duties were often performed by delegates. These included the positions of adelantado mayor (governor) of the Kingdom of Granada and alguacil mayor (head bailiff) of the Court and House of Trade. He was moreover a knight of the Order of the Golden Fleece, a holder of the Grand Cross of the Order of Charles III, a gentleman of the King’s Chamber and the monarch’s chief equerry, and a member of the State Council.
He played an important role in the Peninsular War. He was the only grandee of Spain who refused to take part in the Assembly at Bayonne, and neither did he accept the designation of Joseph I as king of Spain. He did not participate directly in the events of 2 May 1808, but his household did. Under the orders of his major-domo, they managed to halt the French advance along Calle de Alcalá. The popular uprising led to the establishment of the Provincial Juntas, which were coordinated by the Supreme and Governmental Central Junta formed in Aranjuez in 1808. As a civic entity, Madrid was represented on the Central Junta by Floridablanca, whom Altamira succeeded upon his death. The goals were not only to restore Ferdinand VII to the throne, but also to lay solid and permanent foundations for good government in a spirit of reform. He was a convinced patriot and a faithful servant to the Supreme Junta, though he did not align himself with its most conservative members. Like other members of the Central Junta, the “worthy and respectable Count of Altamira”, as Jovellanos called him, had problems with an accusation of misappropriation of public funds. When the Junta moved from Seville to the Isle of León in Cádiz, its members were arrested and imprisoned. Condemned to death by Napoleon, Altamira was banished from court by Ferdinand VII.
Other works by Francisco de Goya y Lucientes