The Hero Of The Carlists
Spain for years past has had its double king,--a king in possession and a
king in exile, a holder of the throne and an aspirant to the throne. For
the greater part of a century one has rarely heard of Spain without
hearing of the Carlists, for continually since 1830 there has been a
princely claimant named Charles, or Don Carlos, struggling for the crown.
Ferdinand VII., who succeeded to the throne on the abdication o
Charles
IV. in 1808, made every effort to obtain an heir. Three wives he had
without a child, and his brother, Don Carlos, naturally hoped to succeed
him. But the persistent king married a fourth time, and this time a
daughter was born to him. There was a law excluding females from the
throne, but this law had been abrogated by Ferdinand to please his wife,
and thus the birth of his daughter robbed Don Carlos of his hopes of
becoming king.
Ferdinand died in 1833, and the infant Isabella was proclaimed queen, with
her mother as regent. The liberals supported her, the absolutists gathered
around Don Carlos, and for years there was a bitter struggle in Spain, the
strength of the Carlists being in the Basque provinces and Spanish
Navarre,--a land of mountaineers, loyal in nature and conservative by
habit.
The dynasty of the pretender has had three successive claimants to the
throne. The first Don Carlos abdicated in 1844, and was succeeded by Don
Carlos the Second, his son. He died in 1861, and his cousin, Don Carlos
the Third, succeeded to the claim, and renewed the struggle for the crown.
It was this third of the name that threatened to renew the insurrection
during the Spanish-American war of 1898.
This explanation is necessary to make clear what is known by Carlism in
Spain. Many as have been the Carlist insurrections, they have had but one
leader of ability, one man capable of bringing them success. This was the
famous Basque chieftain Zumalacarregui, the renowned "Uncle Tomas" of the
Carlists, whose brilliant career alone breaks the dull monotony of Spanish
history in the nineteenth century, and who would in all probability have
placed Don Carlos on the throne but for his death from a mortal wound in
1835. Since then Carlism has struggled on with little hope of success.
Navarre, the chief seat of the insurrection, borders on the chain of the
Pyrenees, and is a wild confusion of mountains and hills, where the
traveller is confused in a labyrinth of long and narrow valleys, deep
glens, and rugged rocks and cliffs. The mountains are highest in the
north, but nowhere can horsemen proceed the day through without
dismounting, and in many localities even foot travel is very difficult. In
passing from village to village long and winding roads must be traversed,
the short cuts across the mountains being such as only a goat or a
Navarrese can tread.
Regular troops, in traversing this rugged country, are exhausted by the
shortest marches, while the people of the region go straight through wood
and ravine, plunging into the thick forests and following narrow paths,
through which pursuit is impossible, and where an invading force does not
dare to send out detachments for fear of having them cut off by a sudden
guerilla attack. It was here and in the Basque provinces to the west, with
their population of hardy and daring mountaineers, that the troops of
Napoleon found themselves most annoyed by the bold guerilla chiefs, and
here the Carlist forces long defied the armies of the crown.
Tomas Zumalacarregui, the "modern Cid," as his chief historian entitles
him, was a man of high military genius, rigid in discipline, skilful in
administration, and daring in leadership; a stern, grave soldier, to whose
face a smile rarely came except when shots were falling thick around him
and when his staff appeared as if they would have preferred music of a
different kind. To this intrepid chief fear seemed unknown, prudence in
battle unthought of, and so many were his acts of rashness that when a
bullet at length reached him it seemed a miracle that he had escaped so
long. The white charger which he rode became such a mark for the enemy,
from its frequent appearance at the head of a charging troop or in
rallying a body of skirmishers, that all those of a similar color ridden
by members of his staff were successively shot, though his always escaped.
On more than one occasion he brought victory out of doubt, or saved his
little army in retreat, by an act of hare-brained bravery. Such was the
"Uncle Tomas" of the Navarrese, the darling of the mountaineers, the man
who would very likely have brought final victory to their cause had not
death cut him off in the midst of his career.
Few were the adherents of Don Carlos when this able soldier placed himself
at their head,--a feeble remnant hunted like a band of robbers among their
native mountains. When he appeared in 1833, escaping from Madrid, where he
was known as a brave soldier and an opponent of the queen, he found but
the fragment of an insurgent army in Navarre. All he could gather under
his banner were about eight hundred half-armed and undisciplined men,--a
sorry show with which to face an army of over one hundred and twenty
thousand men, many of them veterans of the recent wars. These were thrown
in successive waves against Uncle Tomas and his handful of followers,
reinforcement following reinforcement, general succeeding general, even
the redoubtable Mina among them, each with a new plan to crush the Carlist
chief, yet each disastrously failing.
Beginning with eight hundred badly armed peasants and fourteen horses, the
gallant leader had at the time of his death a force of twenty-eight
thousand well-organized and disciplined infantry and eight hundred
horsemen, with twenty-eight pieces of artillery and twelve thousand spare
muskets, all won by his good sword from the foe,--his arsenal being, as he
expressed it, "in the ranks of the enemy." During these two years of
incessant war more than fifty thousand of the army of Spain, including a
very large number of officers, had fallen in Navarre, sixteen fortified
places had been taken, and the cause of Don Carlos was advancing by leaps
and bounds. The road to Madrid lay open to the Carlist hero when, at the
siege of Bilboa, a distant and nearly spent shot struck him, inflicting a
wound from which he soon died. With the fall of Zumalacarregui fell the
Carlist cause. Weak hands seized the helm from which his strong one had
been struck, incompetency succeeded genius, and three years more of a
weakening struggle brought the contest to an end. In all later revivals of
the insurrection it has never gained a hopeful stand, and with the fall of
"Uncle Tomas" the Carlist claim to the throne seemingly received its
death-blow.
The events of the war between the Navarrese and their opponents were so
numerous that it is not easy to select one of special interest from the
mass. We shall therefore speak only of the final incidents of
Zumalacarregui's career. Among the later events was the siege and capture
of Villafranca. Espartero, the Spanish general, led seven thousand men to
the relief of this place, marching them across the mountains on a dark and
stormy night with the hope of taking the Carlists by surprise. But Uncle
Tomas was not the man to be taken unawares, and reversed the surprise,
striking Espartero with a small force in the darkness, and driving back
his men in confusion and dismay. Eighteen hundred prisoners were taken,
and the general himself narrowly escaped. General Mirasol was taken, with
all his staff, in a road-side house, from which he made an undignified
escape. He was a small man, and by turning up his embroidered cuffs, these
being the only marks of the grade of brigadier-general in the Spanish
army, he concealed his rank. He told his captors that he was a tambor.
In their anxiety to capture officers the soldiers considered a drummer too
small game, and dismissed the general with a sound kick to the custody of
those outside. As these had more prisoners than they could well manage, he
easily escaped.
On learning of the defeat of Espartero the city surrendered. The news of
the fall of Villafranca had an important effect, the city of Tolosa being
abandoned by its garrison and Burgera surrendered, though it was strongly
garrisoned. Here Charles V.--as Don Carlos was styled by his party--made a
triumphal entry. He was then at the summit of his fortunes and full of
aspiring hopes. Eybar was next surrendered, the garrison of Durango fled,
and Salvatierra was evacuated.
Victory seemed to have perched upon the banners of the Navarrese, town
after town falling in rapid succession into their hands, and the crown of
Spain appeared likely soon to change hands. Zumalacarregui proposed next
to march upon Vittoria, which had been abandoned with the exception of a
few battalions, and thence upon the important city of Burgos, where he
would either force the enemy to a battle or move forward upon Madrid. So
rapid and signal had been his successes that consternation filled the army
of the queen, the soldiers being in such terror that little opposition was
feared. Bets ran high in the Carlist army that six weeks would see them in
Madrid, and any odds could have been had that they would be there within
two months. Such was the promising state of affairs when the impolitic
interference of Don Carlos led to a turn in the tide of his fortune and
the overthrow of his cause.
What he wanted most was money. His military chest was empty. In the path
of the army lay the rich mercantile city of Bilboa. Its capture would
furnish a temporary supply. He insisted that the army, instead of crossing
the Ebro and taking full advantage of the panic of the enemy, should
attack this place. This Zumalacarregui strongly opposed.
"Can you take it?" asked Carlos.
"I can take it, but it will be at an immense sacrifice, not so much of men
as of time, which now is precious," was the reply.
Don Carlos insisted, and the general, sorely against his will, complied.
The movement was not only unwise in itself, it led to an accident that
brought to an end all the fair promise of success.
The siege was begun. Zumalacarregui, anxious to save time, determined to
take the place by storm as soon as a practicable breach should be made,
and on the morning of the day he had fixed for the assault he, with his
usual daring, stepped into the balcony of a building not far from the
walls to inspect the state of affairs with his glass.
On seeing a man thus exposed, evidently a superior officer, to judge from
his telescope and the black fur jacket he wore, all the men within that
part of the walls opened fire on him. The general soon came out of the
balcony limping in a way that at once created alarm, and, unable to
conceal his lameness, he admitted that he was wounded. A bullet, glancing
from one of the bars of the balcony window, had struck him in the calf of
the right leg, fracturing the small bone and dropping two or three inches
lower in the flesh.
The wound appeared but trifling,--the slight hurt of a spent ball,--but the
surgeons, disputing as to the policy of extracting the ball, did nothing,
not even dressing the wound till the next morning. It was of slight
importance, they said. He would be on horseback within a month, perhaps in
two weeks. The wounded man was not so sanguine.
"The pitcher goes to the well till it breaks at last," he said. "Two
months more and I would not have cared for any sort of wound."
Those two months might have put Don Carlos on the throne and changed the
history of Spain. In eleven days the general was dead and a change had
come over the spirit of affairs. The operations against Bilboa languished,
the garrison regained their courage, the plan of storming the place was
set aside, the queen's troops, cheered by tidings of the death of the
"terrible Zumalacarregui," took heart again and marched to the relief of
the city. Their advance ended in the siege being raised, and in the first
encounter after the death of their redoubtable chief the Carlists met with
defeat. The decline in the fortunes of Don Carlos had begun. One man had
lifted them from the lowest ebb almost to the pinnacle of success. With
the fall of Zumalacarregui Carlism received a death-blow in Spain, for
there is little hope that one of this dynasty of claimants will ever reach
the throne.