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Chapter Nineteen: The Battle for Mexico
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    Spanish cavalry scouting in Mexico.

    Chapter Nineteen: The Battle for Mexico


    The war of February 1871 to October 1872 was fought mostly by the United States of America and the Kingdom of Spain, was nominally waged over a slice of Guatemala and would be decided in Costa Rica and Honduras. Naturally it was called the 'Battle for Mexico' by almost everyone.

    In justice the Mexicans did suffer perhaps more than any of the involved powers, facing several bloody defeats on the field and having up to a third of their country occupied by the Americans at one point. The United States had not wished for war but having defeated the Confederates so recently the jingo feeling was still strong in Philadelphia and New York and there was deep concern over the encroachment of foreign rivals. As many troops would be committed to the invasion of Mexico as had fought in the Civil War a decade before and for a time in late 1871 the government in Washington DC openly expressed the intention to annex Sonora to punish Mexico and permanently hobble her as a power.

    For the Spanish the only troops immediately available in early 1871 were those in Honduras under General Benito Asensio. Asensio commanded about twelve thousand soldiers, an mix of light cavalry and mountain artillery whose role hitherto had been as a reserve to aid the forces embroiled in South America. Asensio was under no illusions that his men could win the war unaided, but nor could he simply sit on his hands in Honduras. Faced with threats to both his south (from Costa Rica and Nicaragua) and to his north (from Guatemala) the Spanish commander marched on Guatemala. At the Battle of Guatemala City in March, Don Benito crushed the Guatemalans. After this victory the Spanish temporarily abandoned the Central American front to try and aid the Mexicans against the Americans. Asensio participated in the joint Spanish-Mexican triumph at the Battle of Rosarito in August, before his own decisive defeat at the First Battle of Nogales the following month.

    The early clashes with the Americans were bloody but enlightening for the Spanish. The technology gap between the two sides was not vast; indeed most soldiers on both sides used the (French) Minié rifle, though more modern breechloaders were slowly making their way into the common infantry-man's hands. The Yankees in their heavy Prussian blue woolen uniforms and hard felt hats disdained the lightweight pinstripe blue and white 'pajamas' and straw hats used by their enemy. The Spanish, whose uniform was the result of hard won experience in the tropics claimed they could smell the enemy from a mile away as they were marinated in their own sweat. The one aspect that did genuinely distress the men from Madrid was the seemingly limitless supplies their enemy could command. American artillery could often fire three of four shots to every one Spain could command, and the food available to the common soldier from Maine or Ohio, though often bland to Spanish eyes far outpaced the scale of rations available to most Spaniards.

    Theoretically the Spanish Army and the Imperial Mexican Army should have been working together. At times, such as at Rosarito they managed such a feat but often rivalries and suspicions between the two armies lingered. Many officers and men had served on opposing sides in the war of the previous decade and fights could erupt whenever the soldiers shared camp. Broken noses and grazed knuckles occasionally threatened to take more troops out of fighting condition than the conventional illness that plagued armies on the march. In one incident that left the generals aghast a... disagreement over a lady of the evening in Cócorit resulted in a duel that left a Spanish artillery captain dead and a Mexican lieutenant permanently blind.

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    The Second Battle of Nogales, 2 to 4 June 1872.

    A far worse outcome was the disastrous Second Battle of Nogales in June 1872. General Francisco O'Donnell, a cousin of the famed Don Leopoldo had commanded the Spanish forces shipped directly to Mexico from across the Atlantic. Francisco O'Donnell was a lean fifty year old officer whose Hibernian heritage showed in his pale complexion and stark gray eyes. An expert raider, hellbent on harrying the enemy O'Donnell had inflicted several minor defeats on the enemy and even raided as far north as San Diego, putting the fear of God in the populace of California. Unfortunately for him his relations with the Mexican Army were poor even by the standards of the war. At Nogales in Sonara, not far from the Mexican-American border he faced Edward Grant, the daring Boston born general who might have been one of the finest military men of the century. O'Donnell, counting on Mexican reinforcements that never arrived found himself attacking well fortified American lines. The result was Spain's worst defeat since Cadiz in 1848. O'Donnell managed to escape but left thousands behind as either corpses or captives [1].

    Second Nogales did not knock Spain out of the war, but it did have two immediate outcomes. The first was a greater effort to work with the Mexicans. Ironically the Mexican elections of 1872 that had swept the conservatives from power in México City proved helpful. The Marqués de Mendigorría regarded José María Iglesias, the new liberal leader in the Mexican Congreso as a republican (a suspicion not without foundation) but the liberals were willing to work with the Spanish as a means to outflank Don Miguel Miramón. Miramón himself remained Viceroy but his power base had been badly eroded when his conservative coalition had been defeated at the polls.

    The second result of the defeat at Nogales was to look at other routes to winning the war than simply pouring soldiers into Mexico. The end of the war with Ecuador had opened up new possibilities. Spain's two greatest allies, the Confederate States of America and the Empire of Brazil had hitherto been neutral. The Richmond government would remain neutral, but it was a stance openly biased towards Madrid. Spanish soldiers were allowed to traverse Confederate territory without fear of consequences, to the chagrin of General Grant who more than once was forced to watch his opponents disappear beyond the Rio Grande. Though there were no war subsidies as such - Dixie's economy was too frail for such a thing - Spanish and Mexican brigades could count on cheaper food and textiles along those areas of the Mexican border that remained beyond the reach of the blue uniformed armies.

    Brazil had no such qualms about staying out of the war and with Ecuador now firmly in Spain's orbit the Rio government answered Madrid's request. Brazil was unlikely to supply many actual fighting men for North America (Central America was another story) but her economy was robust and her navy large if old fashioned. The Armada Real Española had already enjoyed superiority along the Atlantic coast of the United States, keeping the United States Navy rotting at anchor in Norfolk. The addition of the Brazilian Armada Imperial, the fifth largest fleet afloat turned superiority into supremacy and the Spanish government began to contemplate a direct naval landing at Washington DC to capture the American capital in one swift devastating blow.

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    The landings at the Potomac, September 1872.

    While all this was taking place the Central American front was not quiet. Guatemala, the nation over whom the entire war was being fought had surrendered as early as Christmas Eve 1871. The Mexicans had overrun the entire country and in such circumstances the peace demand from México City was lenient: the immediate annexation of the Chiapas region. Don Francisco de Lersundi y Hormaechea, the Captain General of Honduras represented Spain in the negotiations in the last days of 1871.

    The surrender of Guatemala theoretically ended the war but the other powers were determined to fight on. Nicaragua and Costa Rica between them could field perhaps twenty thousand men and neither wished to abandon the chance to weaken Spain and Mexico.

    At the start of 1872 Spain still had about thirty thousand men in South America. Ecuador still stubbornly held out, and would until April, but that still left six brigades 'free'. Not surprisingly the Marqués de Mendigorría wanted those soldiers moved to Mexico by sea to reinforce Francisco O'Donnell. Leopoldo O'Donnell stubbornly insisted on marching them to Mexico the long way, invading Costa Rica and Nicuragua en route. More than anyone else the Spanish War Minister had realised that control of the peninsula was key to the war, even beyond the nominally grander conflict being waged in Mexico. If Spain annexed Costa Rica and Nicuragua it would probably push Colombia into the war on the Spanish side; the government in Bogotá was friendly with both Madrid and Washington DC and had attempted to balance her neutrality til now. If that happened and the war was still stuck in Mexico then the Confederate States might be tempted to break their truce with the United States, and even if they did not that truce was bound to expire in 1874.

    Don Leopoldo O'Donnell's strategy was a great gamble, and one that looked positively reckless after the Second Battle of Nogales. With the Americans across the border in force he had effectively reassigned more than forty thousand soldiers away from Mexico - the original eighteen thousand in Costa Rica, gradually being reinforced by twelve thousand from the now defeated Ecuador and another twelve thousand engaged in the Washington landings. Taken together these men represented nearly half the available brigades in the Americas.

    In the first half of 1872 the Spanish under General Vincente Argüelles-Meres overran Costa Rica proper, taking the capital city of San José and the seaport of Puntarenas (the fall of the latter resulted in the only sea battle of the war where the Costa Rican Man-o'war Juan Mora Fernández (74-gun) and two armed clippers were sunk by a small Spanish squadron.) Reaching Honduras he crushed the Nicaraguans at Comayagua. On 18 May he defeated the Costa Rican Army in the field outside San Salvador before turning north and liberating La Cebia, in enemy hands for several weeks. At the Second Battle of San Salvador on 12 August Argüelles-Meres comprehensively defeated the last elements of the Costa Rican Army.

    On 15 September after a long bombardment of the shore positions The Spanish landed troops on the west bank of the Potomac. The following morning the first artillery shells began falling on the American capital. The damage was minimal and President Simon Cameron and the rest of his government had already evacuated but within hours the Richmond newspapers would be printing the first (sensationalised) reports of Washington in flames [2].

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    The furthest extent of the American advance into Mexico, late 1872.

    Even as the war had arrived on the President's doorstep peace negotiations were taking place. As early as August with the collapse of Costa Rica Cameron had been sending out peace feelers through the offices of the French embassy. By 5 September the Americans were in direct contact with the Spanish and considering terms.

    Cameron would forever be hounded by the popular press for the peace he would ultimately sign. The anger felt was understandable; though the United States Army had suffered reverses in the field it was still firmly in possession of Mexican territory. A potent myth would quickly develop that Cameron, never a beloved figure, had lost his nerve at the final moment and sold of the family silver.

    The truth is more complicated. Cameron's stance in September 1872 was pessimistic but it wasn't out of line with the facts. The American position was gradually deteriorating. With Central America in Spanish hands Francisco O'Donnell could look forward to thousands of reinforcements, potentially including Brazilian regiments. Once installed in San José or the Nicuraguan capital of Mangua the Spanish would prove very difficult to shift. American overseas trade had dwindled to nothing as the Spanish and Brazilian fleets patrolled the sea. Even before the first cannon was fired at the Capitol the Americans had very good reasons to seek peace.

    The Treaty of San Salvador was negotiated in November of that year between the governments of Spain, Mexico, Brazil, the United States, Nicaragua and Costa Rica. Spain and her allies agreed to respect the governments of Nicaragua and Costa Rica and to observe pre-war borders. Surprisingly the sole territorial exchange would be from the United States to the neutral Confederate States of America. At Spanish insistence the United States abrogated their gains in 1869, returning the Arizona Territory to the Confederacy in an exchange for monetary compensation. It was a severe humiliation for the United States and an unexpected delight for the Confederacy but the Marqués de Roncali had argued persuasively that it would prevent a new war breaking out within months: Arizona was of little value in and of itself but Dixie would fight for it [3].

    Ultimately the Empire of Mexico 'won' the war at a fearful cost in lives; they had succeeded in annexing territory that they had claimed for over forty years. However the lingering effects meant that in a real way no one won. The governments in Madrid and Washington had been forced by circumstances only partially in their control to become bitter rivals and that sentiment seemed like it would linger. In some respects the war did not end in San Salvador, the weapons simply changed to diplomatic and economic influence rather than rifles and steamships.

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    North America After the Treaty of San Salvador, the end of 1872.

    Footnotes:

    [1] The Second Battle of Nogales was the result of me trying to be a bit too clever and timing my army to arrive with a Mexican force; naturally they changed their minds at the last minute. That said the Americans having a superb leader in Grant and my dreadful luck with the dice roll played a part in the severity of the defeat.

    [2] Washington had not yet fallen at the time of peace but it had almost done so.

    [3] Essentially the war was decided by Costa Rica who were the leaders of the 'American' alliance in-game. In fairness the advantage of forces was with me, so I think I could have achieved something similar the hard way. As for Arizona that was chosen because the United States does not in fact have cores there.
     
    Chapter Twenty: The Congress of Madrid and the election of 1872
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    The Congress of Madrid, October 1870.

    Chapter Twenty: The Congress of Madrid and the election of 1872


    In late September 1870 representatives from the Spanish, French, Prussian [1], Russian, Austro-Hungarian, Ottoman and British governments all met at the palacio del Marqués de Grimaldi in Madrid. Over the period of two painstaking weeks the Great Powers would painfully work out the future of the Balkans and the Ottoman Empire.

    That so important a conference was held in Spain at all was not due to the increased level of Spanish prestige (though clearly she enjoyed an enhanced role these days) as it was due to the fact that Madrid had few true enemies among the other European powers. The known bias of the Spanish government and monarch towards Austria-Hungary was more than balanced by the terror everyone in Spain felt about war with France; effectively Madrid could be an honest broker of sorts.

    Of course during this period Spain was wrapped up in her concerns across the Atlantic [2] so the Marqués de Mendigorría played a limited direct role in the Congress, instead relying on his Minister of State Don Joaquín Roncali, the Marqués de Roncali. The Minister found himself faced by three of the most formidable statesmen in Europe: Benjamin Disraeli of the United Kingdom, Jules Farve of the French Republic and greatest of all (though it was not obvious at the time) Graf Otto von Bismarck of Prussia. The Marqués de Roncali, ever conscious that Spain held a weak hand stuck to the most conservative propositions about what to do with the Balkans. It was clear to all that the Ottoman Empire was crumbling and therefore some measure of stability would have to be imposed in the Near East. While Britain were against the proposals and the Ottoman delegate was naturally outraged the majority agreed on a general plan, albeit for their own conflicting reasons.

    While there is some truth to the claim that the Ottoman Empire was sacrificed to the balance of power the irony was that Spain and Prussia were united in their attempt to save a different empire: the Russian. The loss of Congress Poland had been a lasting humiliation to a Russia already falling behind her neighbours and despite being the representative from the country that had helped cause such damage Graf Bismarck dreaded the thought of Russsia collapsing as the Ottomans were currently doing, either ending up a squabbling collection of small states or imploding into a republic as France had once done. The Prussian worked hard if discretely to allow Russia at least the appearance of a success. The Marqués de Roncali held few such long term goals even if he shared Bismarck's fear and disdain for republicanism. His desire was that Spain should emerge from the conference with her international reputation enhanced and general peace prevailing. Should Spain's ally Austria-Hungary emerge with credit that was a delightful bonus, but as with so much else dealing with Spain survival was victory enough.

    Before the Congress the only true independent kingdoms in the Balkans had been Greece and Romania, with the former under British influence and the later Russian. The Principality of Serbia had enjoyed a certain limited de facto self rule. The Congress dramatically changed the situation; a greatly expanded Serbia was now fully independent, joined by Montenegro, Bulgaria, Bosnia and Herzegovina and Albania. Montenegro had at least possessed a nominal prince who now found himself a true ruler, but the latter three states had been created from whole cloth in political terms and would need rulers [3].

    Of the newly independent states Bosnia-Herzegovina was immediately the most problematic. This small principality existed in limbo for months before being directly absorbed into the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Earlier efforts to maintain her as a sovereign state or even unify her with Serbia had come to naught as the Great Powers squabbled. Vienna was determined to safeguard her southern frontier and swallowing the potentially troublesome 'South Slavs' of the region was considered the best practice.


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    European borders in 1873, after the Congress of Madrid, and the Franco-Prussian and Second Austro-Prussian Wars.

    Unfortunately while the Congress proper was a success, wrapping up in October and forcing a reluctant but powerless Ottoman state to agree to the new borders it did not achieve a grand European peace. Within weeks Berlin and Paris would be at war.

    The exact causes of the Franco-Prussian War lay with the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg. In the early 1870s this territory, though autonomous had been ruled in personal union by the Dutch monarch King William III. The Netherlands, a nation with strained finances had been in negotiations with the French Republic to sell Luxembourg. Unfortunately for both parties the Prussians objected. This was enough to scare away the Dutch government but Graf Bismarck went further. Throughout 1870, both before and after the Congress of Madrid he manipulated a potentially minor diplomatic dispute into something grander. Indeed one of the key achievements of the wily Junker in his weeks in Madrid was to convince the British that France was a far greater menace to European interests (by which of course he meant the interests of Britain) than Prussia.

    Bismarck was ambitious but he was no fool. He knew that neither Disraeli, nor his liberal opponent William Gladstone would be willing to fight France purely for Prussian honour. What he could accomplish was the benign neutrality of the British government, and in this his closest ally was an unwitting French government.

    The French Second Republic was not widely popular abroad. Though it was no longer quite as bellicose as she had been in the 1850s when President Lamoricière had proven the decisive hawk in the Crimean War the French were largely seen as an ambitious power. Even ignoring her military might (which no one could) the French system of government was an existential threat to most of her neighbours, all of whom were monarchies of one shade or another. It proved surprisingly easy for Bismarck to stir up anti-French feeling both at home and among foreign courts. When the conflict began late in the year France would fight without allies.

    In Madrid the eruption of open warfare between France and Prussia was met with disappointment and surprise, but also the ready assumption that France would emerge triumphant in the conflict. When a separate war erupted between Berlin and Vienna in the Spring of 1871 it seemed even more likely that Prussia would remain neutral. Despite the friendship between Madrid and Vienna the Spanish were by this time far too invested in their own struggles to intervene. Ultimately the war would drag in the Kingdom of Romania (on the side of Berlin), see the shock defeat of the French and the Austro-Hungarians, the creation of a client German principality in Banat (an extremely mixed region populated by Germans, Hungarians and Slavs) and most importantly the creation of a strong centralised German Empire.

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    Any hopes that the Spanish voters would rally behind the government in a surge of war-time patriotism proved ill-founded.

    The Congress of Madrid had brought great prestige to the Spanish capital, but it did not succeed in fully disguising the weariness facing the Spanish people. On one front or another Spain had spent most of the past two decades at war. Successive governments had managed, more or less to keep taxes stable but extra revenue had to be continually raised and that meant tariffs. Even in times of peace the tariff rate never dropped below 25%. During a war it could push as far north as 75%. Both the Moderates and the
    Unión Liberal party embraced protectionism as a way to build up native industry. The result was that wages in rural areas were relatively secure but there was limited variety to spend it on.

    Spain remained a country more dominated by agriculture than industry but she was slowly modernising. In 1836 the literacy rate had stood at 13%. By 1872 it was 38%, and in the cities higher still. This new urban readership were beginning to make themselves felt with the explosive growth of the newspaper industry. The conservative La Correspondencia de España perhaps Spain's first successful modern newspaper had inspired a horde of imitators and rivals. Every political faction had at least one popular newspaper to champion its cause, frequently more.

    The election of January 1872 was a tumultuous affair, fed by the changes happening abroad and at home. Queen Isabella had now held the throne for almost four decades, and had entered middle age though this had meant little change to her personality. The monarch still had her handsome favourites, still intervened in government in ways that would scarcely have occurred to her English counterpart. In some ways sheer longevity and the constant distraction of fighting foreign wars for the government had actually increased her power. It had not however increased her popularity.

    Of course with Spain 'popularity' could be taken with a grain of salt. Proportionately the Spanish electorate was one of the smallest in Europe with only the ferociously conservative franchise of Russia being more restrictive among the major states. In 1872 more than sixteen million people lived in Spain 'proper' [4], of which fewer than half a million held the franchise. Belgium, with a population of somewhat over four million had twice as many eligible voters. While it is true that the onerous wealth qualifications members of the electorate had to pass made the aristocracy important, their share was itself dwarfed by the hundreds of thousands of artisans. Likewise a more liberal franchise akin to that practiced in Britain, France, Austria-Hungary and indeed the United States and Mexico would have added craftsmen and the still more numerous rural peasantry. In other words both liberals and conservatives could claim that a more representative Spain would favour them.

    Still, among the electorate as it was (rather than it might have been) the Queen's popularity had clearly waned. Throughout the second half 1871 many of the Madrid and Barcelona press had been scathing of the monarch's numerous scandals. A collection of liberal leaning malcontents like Generals Juan Prim and Francisco Serrano, weary of the seemingly endless conservative lock on power, personally alienated from the Queen and seeing the straws in the wind had begun to conspire at revolution. Had Spain still not been at war with the United States it is likely they would have made their move sooner. As it was they pinned their hopes on the election and a sympathetic Cortes.


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    The results of the 1872 election.
    It was a bad tempered campaign stretched across November and December 1871, with the consistently miserable weather adding to the unpleasantness - more than one deputy suffered a bad chill from the experience of speaking in public for hours in the drizzle. The government, on the defensive over the doubtful conduct of the war and the shameless conduct of the court could only wrap itself in the flag and hope that patriotism would see them through. It didn't help matters that the most popular, if controversial, figure in Iberian politics was absent from the field.

    General Leopoldo O'Donnell did not leave Madrid at all during the election campaign. Indeed he scarcely left his offices or his house in all this time, abandoning even his regular evening at the gentleman's club that had been his favoured haunt. Most believed this was pure addiction to hard work - the war was growing difficult after all and Don Leopoldo was Minister for War. There was some truth this. However the main reason was even more simple; he was dying. The Spanish-Hiberian grandee had suffered from severe ill health since 1869 and only sheer will power had kept him going. Whether that willpower was bound to the Spanish Crown or his own sense of himself would depend on ones politics but as 1872 approached the old soldier was fading fast [5]. Without his influence Spanish conservativism was immediately enfeebled; the Marqués de Mendigorría was a fine leader in many respects but he was a soldier and aristocrat who felt electioneering sharply beneath his dignity.

    The vote itself was on New Year's Day. Thankfully the weather was dry and cool rather than damp and cold. Most voters, whatever their political opinions were probably glad to get the business over with and most hoped for a stable result. In this like so many else they were bound to be disappointed.

    The mainstream Spanish conservative parties - the hazy centre-right constellation that made up the Moderates and the more 'modern' Unión Liberal party - had lost votes and seats. Out of four hundred and three seats in the Chamber of Deputies [6] the Moderates won eighty five and the Unión Liberal won sixty seven. The Progressives - essentially the traditional royalist liberals - held fifty eight seats. The Carlists had thirty four. Most shockingly for the first time a significant republican bloc had appeared in Spanish politics. Between them the Republicano Federal and Republicano Unitaro parties (both representing 'moderate' liberal republicanism), the Socialists and the anarcho-liberal Radicals won one hundred and fifty nine seats.

    Many foreign observers, particularly the Parisian press delirious over the thought of a sister state south of the Pyrenees inaccurately hailed the result as a victory for republicanism. In fact even combined the votes and seats for all Spanish republicans fell well short of the combined monarchists and the republicans were no more a natural bloc than the monarchists. Nevertheless even with all the qualifiers two out of every five Spaniards who had voted had expressed their choice for republican candidates.

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    Distribution of the vote in January 1872.
    Naturally both the Queen and the government were shaken by the results. Though Isabella and the Marqués de Mendigorría were quick to renew their political marriage with the monarch retaining the general as her prime minister both sides felt angry with the other over the debacle. A polite yet grim facade would remain in place at least for the duration of the war but the government was significantly weakened, forced to depend on the support of Carlists in the Cortes to the dismay of even royalist liberals.

    For the anti-Isabella faction led by Prim and Serrano the results had been bittersweet. The weakening of the government and Isabella was welcome but the plotters were themselves split between those who wanted to save the monarchy by removing the Queen in favour of another candidate and those who wished to end the monarchy altogether. In the shadows the different factions uneasily cooperated and waited their moment.



    Footnotes:

    [1] Strictly speaking 'Prussia' was part of the North German Confederation, but that organisation was entirely dominated by Prussia and eventually superseded by the German Empire in 1872. 'Prussia' as a term is used for convenience.

    [2] The Mexican-American War had yet to break out at this point but Spain was at war in Bolivia, Chile and Ecuador.

    [3] As would Cyprus. Though not covered by the Congress proper, the Cypriots used the excuse to bloodlessly break free of Ottoman rule as an independent state.

    [4] That is to say modern Spain including the Canary Islands and Ceuta and Mellila.

    [5] In real life O'Donnell died in exile in 1869. Hanging on to power has helped him make it a little longer but not by much.

    [6] Figure includes seats for Spanish Central America whose elected deputies took seats as Progressives.
     
    Chapter Twenty One: The Road to the Second Carlist War
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    Spain at the start of the Second Carlist War, 15 July 1875.

    Chapter Twenty One: The Road to the Second Carlist War


    For more than three decades after 1838 the Carlist cause had been a shadowy presence in Spain. True there were several Grandees who discretely (and sometimes not so discretely) were prepared to raise their glasses in slurred toasts to the King and in some areas of the country there were even Carlist deputies elected, though before the election of 1872 their presence was of little significance to Spain as a whole.

    Don Carlos, 'Carlos V' to his supporters had died in a lonely exile in Trieste in 1855. His passing and the 'succession' of his son Carlos Luis, the Conde de Montemolín ('Carlos VI') had been little remarked upon in Madrid where the Queen, then in her early twenties was beginning to make her personal rule more strongly felt. Carlos VI had enjoyed a undistinguished reign from distant Austria before dying suddenly of typhus in January 1861, an outbreak that also took the life of his younger brother Fernando. Once more outside dedicated Carlist circles he went unmourned and indeed unmentioned.

    There was at this time one surviving son of Don Carlos. Don Juan Carlos María Isidro de Borbón, the new Conde de Montemolín was forty years old gentleman with an Italian wife, whom he left, a passion for photography and strong liberal sympathies. 'Juan III' resided in London and had little affection for his late brother - and at least initially the Carlists had little affection for him. It would be simplistic to say that Carlism was a purely reactionary movement, especially to many Basques, Catalans and Valencians who viewed the creed as a badge of national identity and the restitution of a strong royal government a necessity to defend their ancient freedoms (fueros) against a dogmatically centralising Madrid. Still the Church and Monarchy were strongly woven into the fabric of the movement and the attitude of the Conde de Montemolín provoked many a shudder among the grey and wrinkled veterans of the 1830s.

    Had the Spanish establishment been more popular the sheer divisions in Carlism might have killed off the movement all together in the early 1870s. As it was the general disdain in which the Queen was held and the inability of the mainstream conservatives to win over the electorate left the situation in Madrid fragile. In terms of seats won the 1872 election had hardly been a triumph for the Carlists but it had given them a stronger voice in the Cortes than ever before. However as so often with Spanish politics opportunity bred division. Don Juan Carlos was intrigued by the idea that his cause might triumph in the Cortes and willing to court the political leaders of other factions. The exiled monarch believed that his own well known feelings would make him a sympathetic figure to men like Prim and Serrano, on the look out for alternatives to Isabella. Unfortunately for him this engagement with the established parties only further alienated the Carlist grassroots. Despite their personal loyalty to the son of 'Carlos V' many, probably most Carlists did not want an Isabelline Spain with the portly figure of the Queen replaced by the more dashing personage of their King.

    Beginning in November 1872 and continuing intermittently for over a year a series of discrete meetings took place in the Madrid home of Ramón Cabrera, the Conde de Morella and various conservative and liberal politicians and military officers. The Conde de Morella was a tough minded former seminary student who had abandoned the priesthood for the Carlist cause in the 1830s. During the First Carlist War he had won the nickname 'The Tiger of the Maestrazgo' for his ferocity and success on the battlefield - and he had left an even greater impression of it. The Tiger's own mother had been shot as a reprisal during the war and any Isabellino who had fallen into his clutches experienced scant mercy. Now this ferocious partisan of Don Carlos, mellowed by years of marriage to an English wife was the unlikely go between for those in the Spanish establishment willing to talk to 'Juan III'.

    Later it would be hard to determine how serious the 'establishment conspirators' were about offering the throne to Don Juan Carlos. By late 1872 the majority of liberals and many conservatives had lost faith in Queen Isabella. This did not automatically mean they would turn to 'Juan III'; there were other candidates. Many in the Spanish Army and Navy supported the pretensions of the French-born Antoine d'Orléans [1] Others, reluctant to entirely abandon their old cause were inclined to press for the young Prince of Asturias, Alfonso who was more liked than his mother. Still others were prepared to look abroad where names like Archduke Maximilian of Austria were spoken of.


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    Don Carlos, the Duque de Madrid or 'King Carlos VII' to his supporters.

    The elephant in the room, the single factor that more than anything ruined the efforts of Ramón Cabrera was Don Juan Carlos's own son. Don Carlos de Borbón y Austria-Este, the Duque de Madrid resembled his father not at all. Born in Slovenia and raised in the court of Modena by his mother and his uncle the young prince had been reared with a stern and proud conservatism, ever conscious of his rights and his duties and the throne he devoutly believed his family had been cheated of. Father and son did not simply disagree they scarcely knew each other and it was not lost on Prim and Serrano that no matter how liberal a ruler 'Juan III' might be 'Carlos VII' would be a Borbon of old.

    The same qualities that made 'Carlos VII' such a nightmare for Spanish liberals made him attractive to traditional supporters of Carlism. Even before the end of the 1860s he probably had a greater base of support than his still living father. The inevitable break nearly came in a spirited meeting in London in 1872 after the elections though Don Juan Carlos, still hopeful that secret negotiations via Cabrea would bear fruit declined to abdicate. With Spain still locked in a major war and the conspirators unwilling to act the issue smoldered on for months. 'Carlos VII' avoided raising the battle standard in public but still met with senior Carlist leaders and began drawing up plans should it come to a fight.

    Throughout this period the Marqués de Mendigorría worked hard at keeping a stable government aloft, a business that would have challenged Bismarck himself. The loss of General O'Donnell was equal parts blessing and curse. The Hibernian descended old soldier had been an exhausting and ambitious rival but with his passing much of the old ability and fire was gone. Though he retained an aristocratic sense of loyalty to the monarch his relations with Isabella were personally poor. While unaware of the full nature of the talks going on behind his back the Spanish prime minister had little choice but to court the Carlists in the Cortes to achieve any legislation. It was an exhausting time and by the Autumn of 1873 he was growing frail. Increasingly the Marqués, a robust former soldier looked gaunt and old. His appetite dwindled away save for a daily ration of brandy and custom Turkish tobacco (against doctor's orders but perhaps necessary to get through the day.)


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    The death of the Marqués de Mendigorría, October 1873.
    The passing of the Marqués de Mendigorría was a personal tragedy but it was as much a tragedy for mainstream Spanish conservatism. Don Luis González-Bravo had passed away two years before and the Duque de Valencia almost three years before that. The Moderates had future leaders aplenty in their ranks but what they lacked were men with the authority and experience to command the Cortes and if necessary to flatter, persuade and badger Spain's monarch into changing her mind.

    It would not be until January 1874 that the Queen appointed a permanent replacement as prime minister. Her choice had settled on Don Joaquín de Roncali, the Marqués de Roncali, the former Foreign Minister [2]. It was not in and of itself an unwise choice. Don Joaquín de Roncali was an experienced lawyer and diplomat and his stewardship of the Congress of Madrid had made him a known figure in the chancellries of Europe. His disadvantage was that he was not seen as a man with much of a support base of his own or with the necessary dynamism to reach across the Cortes to the opposition and create a unified government.

    Perhaps he was underestimated. Certainly everyone seemed determined to underestimate Spain's reigning monarch. Queen Isabella was fickle, hedonistic and often tactless but she was not blind to the fact that many among the establishment wished her gone. She could remember how her own mother had been swept into exile by a palace coup. Isabella had no interest in enduring such a fate herself. The Queen never doubted that her sentiments on everything from the Church to food and music were more in tune with the average Spaniard than the bustling elites who felt their insight rose above mere mortals.

    Foreign visitors to Madrid might well have agreed. The Spanish capital was still a relatively modest city by European standards but that size gave Madrid a certain security that Paris or even London could never feel. The Congress of Madrid had given a further boost to a city already known for its many charms. Both liberal republicanism and Carlism were far weaker here than in Catalonia and the Basque Country and the royal court could feel secure.


    A place in the Sun.jpg

    For all the establishment distaste of Isabella's Spain an argument could be made it was popular with the common people.
    Once it became clear that the Cabrera-led secret negotiations were going nowhere 'Carlos VII' began to pressure his father into abdicating leadership of the Carlist cause. Don Juan Carlos found himself bombarded by letters from his son and his son's supporters, their tone alternating between private family pleading and stoic claims of duty to God and country. The senior Carlist claimant officially abdicated on 5 April 1874 and 'Carlos VII' promptly sent out letters to the Austrian, German, Russian and Brazilian emperors, to Pope Pius IX and to sundry lesser heads of state proclaiming his new status. Needless to say these were ignored, though the French government grew alarmed and protested to their British counterparts - the current legitimist pretender to the French throne, the Comte de Chambord ('Henri V') was childless and at his death the line would revert to the Spanish branch of the family, meaning that within a few years 'Carlos VII' would likely also be titular King of France.

    'Carlos VII' did not immediately abandon the political route; with his own absence from Spain it was at the very least useful to have Ramón Cabrera in Madrid, keeping the Carlist cause vocally active and sending information about the state of the country to London. It was from Don Ramón that 'Carlos VII' was able to acquire knowledge of feeling in South America and Mexico, territories quite beyond the resources of the Carlists to establish a presence in first hand. One fear that had gripped the Carlists was that Isabella would actually be crowned Empress in México City. The splendour of such a ceremony and the elevation of the rival monarch to the imperial dignity would make the Carlist position impossible. For 'Carlos VII', present in London where rumour had it Queen Victoria was on the verge of taking the title 'Empress of India' the phantom of the Mexican crown seemed very real.

    Don Ramón had soon come to the conclusion that there would be no Mexican coronation. The liberal dominated Mexican government were not in a hurry to mark such an occasion and the Spanish government under the Marqués de Roncali were too tactful to enforce the move on the most difficult and important Hispanophone state. That Isabella's Mexican crown remain theoretical was a hypocrisy that suited both sides.

    It would not be until July 1875 that the Carlists were finally ready to stage their rising. Rifles and pistols had been laboriously smuggled into Spain for many months and a network of rebel cells had been given their orders. The King's advisors felt that the rising had a strong chance of success. Most of the Spanish Army remained in Central America, kept in place by continuining border tensions between the Confederate and United States of America and the possibility that Madrid might have to consider her options. With their absence the followers of 'Carlos VII' would for a little while enjoy numerical superiority.

    The one worry for the Carlists was the absence of enthusiasm in Catalonia and the Basque Country, formerly Carlist heartlands. While sentiment ran strongly for the King in Valencia where 'Carlos VII' would make his capital and, perhaps more surprisingly, in Asturias it was thin on the ground around Barcelona and Bilbao. It was not immediately clear why this should be; Valencia had profited from the Spanish industrial revolution and was becoming more prosperous. In contrast both Catalonia and the Basque country were comparatively poor with high rates of emigration. Perhaps it was that very lack of young men that made the difference, where the hot headed young bloods had already taken ship for the Americas.

    Valencia had rallied to the cause, Catalonia and the Basques had stayed silent... the question now was how would Madrid react?

    Emigration.jpg


    Emigration patterns in Spain in 1875. The pink-red areas indicate net emigration.


    Footnotes:

    [1] Antoine who held the title Duc de Montpensier was the youngest son of King Louis-Philippe and the brother-in-law of Queen Isabella.

    [2] An 'Expert Diplomat' in game terms.
     
    Chapter Twenty Two: The Second Carlist War and the Election of 1876
  • Second Carlist War.jpg


    The Battle of Oviedo, 9 August 1875.

    Chapter Twenty Two: The Second Carlist War and the Election of 1876


    General Benito Asensio, a tall fifty seven year old cavalry officer from Galicia with an iron gray mustache and eyebrows, a limp in his left leg (the legacy of a gutsy charge in his youth) and a passion for French tobacco, was the senior most serving officer in the Spanish Army. A veteran of the wars in South and Central America Asensio was infamous across the Atlantic as the man whose artillery had bombarded Washington DC in 1872. In his own homeland he was better known for his devotion to the Queen Isabella. Even with the disadvantage in numbers facing the loyalists they could not have had a more dependable general in the country.

    The last week of July 1875 saw Asensio's force of three infantry regiments and an artillery brigade on the move east from their base at Vigo. The loyalists were all veterans, though ammunition was not abundant owing to the parsimonious nature of the military budget in peace time. Though there was an existing rail network in this part of Spain it was insufficient to transport a whole army and concerns about rebel dynamiters placing explosives on the track encouraged Asensio to stick to a march on foot. After a hard crossing of the Galician Massif where accidents and frostbite struck the army's baggage train the loyalists entered Asturias proper and in the hills by Oviedo clashed with the Carlists. The battle, fought in the grey early hours of 9 August proved a rout for the rebels. Even with the soldiers rationed in shot and the heavy guns firing only a few salvos the outnumbered Carlists were swiftly overrun by Asensio's force. By the afternoon three thousand Carlists were either dead or taken prisoner and the government had seen just two hundred and seven casualties of all shades.

    The Battle of Oviedo and the similar triumph at Santander twelve days later broke the rebellion in Asturias and convinced the government that the war might be won swiftly, perhaps even before reinforcements from Honduras arrived in Cadiz. An ecstatic and impulsive Queen Isabella immediately wrote to Asensio offering him the title Conde de San Salvador [1] which the general accepted, but wrote back and requested to be deferred 'until after our victory is complete your majesty.'

    That complete victory would take another three months. General Asensio returned to Madrid where he was finally able to re-equip his forces. After a brief rest to allow the men to recover he marched on the centre of the Carlist rebellion: Valencia.

    'King Carlos VII' had landed in Valencia at the beginning of August having chartered a Piedmontese steamer. The would-be monarch of Spain was greeted by cheering crowds - while Carlism was nowhere universal it did have popular support in some places. The initial plans had been for the king to hold court in the Palace of the Marquis of Dos Aguas but with a loyalist garrison still stubbornly holding out in the nearby Sagunto Castle the Carlist claimant was kept away from the city proper. At his side were the two senior Carlist generals, Don Dionisio Franco and Don Federico Villapol, the Marqués de Sueca.

    The failure of the Carlists to rebel in Barcelona and Bilbao may have decided the Second Carlist War before the first shot was fired but the ineptness and rivalry of Don Dionisio Franco and the Marqués de Sueca did as much damage to 'Carlos VII's' cause as any loyalist. General Franco, who commanded the rebels at Cartagena was clueless about warfare and nearly everything else and his only noticeable talent was an ability to shirk hard work. His place in the senior circles of Carlist leadership seemed to stem almost entirely from an ambitious and well connected wife who stage managed a career of which he was more a human prop than an active participant. The Marqués de Sueca who was based in Alicante could at least claim to have won his position 'honestly', in the sense of being a wealthy aristocrat dedicated to the Carlist cause but he was still a pisspoor soldier.

    It was obvious to all external observers that to stand a chance of victory the Carlists would have to united their scattered forces into one central army, capable of defeating Asensio via outright numerical strength. Naturally nothing of the sort happened. The two senior Carlist commanders, quite beyond their own individual flaws proved incapable of setting aside their squabbles. Asensio, able to contest the smaller Carlist positions one-by-one won victories at Cuenca (23 September), Albacete (10 October), Cartagena (18 October), Alicante (30 October) and finally Valencia itself on 13 November. It was at this last battle that Asensio faced the one competent Carlist general of the war in the intelligent but melancholy Estanislao Maura but by then it was far too late for the outnumbered and outgunned rebels. After a dignified three hours of resistance to allow 'Carlos VII' and his court to evacuate by sea to France, and from there London, General Maura surrendered.

    The Second Carlist War was over.

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    The Battle of Valencia, 13 November 1875.

    Despite the loss of life, the great majority of it on the rebel side, the Second Carlist War may have been a blessing in disguise for Spain. No one believed that defeat would kill off the spectre of Carlism for good, but with the boil momentarily lanced the country settled down in the final weeks of 1875. An election was due for the middle of 1876 and for the first time in many years it would take place in peacetime.

    Don Joaquín de Roncali, the Marqués de Roncali had few illusions about the on-coming election. Spain was not as tense and angry as she had been but there was little fondness for a tired conservative government. The only charismatic personage the conservatives could boast at all was not really in the 'ranks' so to speak. The newly ennobled Conde de San Salvador was no politician and uninterested and unsuited to holding high office, for all he enjoyed the friendship of the Queen. In any case the feeling in the country seemed to be against another government led by a general. This setiment had also been noticed by the liberals were General Prim found himself coming under pressure to step aside as leader in favour of a civilian.

    The liberal bloc that contested the 1876 election can be divided into three main factions: the old royalist Progressives, numerically the most significant but more a hazy collection of like minded politicians than a party in a true sense, the Federal Democratic Republican Party (Partido Republicano Democrático Federal) and the Unitary Republican Party (Partido Republicano Unitario). The Unitary Republicans wished to abolish the monarchy but otherwise their platform was not terribly far from the centrist, rather conservative liberalism of the Progressives. The Federal Republicans on the other hand wished to fundamentally alter Spain into a kind of giant Switzerland, heavily decentralised and with the spectre of strong government (which they saw as tyranny) banished for good.

    A moment's thought reveals that all these views conflicted with each other, which makes it all the more impressive that Spanish liberals were able to cooperate with each other during the long months of the election campaign. What all three factions agreed on was the economic question, favouring a shift towards free trade and scaling back the hand of the government on industry and finance. Spain was not rich in the manner of Britain or France but it was the devout belief of many Spanish liberals that the subsidising of inefficient factories and the state building of railroads (both hallmarks of the conservative governments of the last generation) were actively destructive of the nation's wealth.

    Don Pedro Duro Benito was one of the richest men in Spain but in every other respect he made an unlikely future prime minister. While most even in the ranks of the Progressives or the various republican sides were jurists or civil engineers Pedro Duro was a businessman, a captain of industry involved in the steel trade. The arcana of political ideology interested him not at all, but he was a canny figure whose personal success made him attractive to voters who believed he could make Spain - and by implication themselves - rich.


    Surge of liberalism.jpg


    The liberal determination to focus on the economy and ignore more divisive issues struck a chord with the electorate.
    Pedro Duro had come late to politics but something about struck a chord with many in Spain and despite his gray hairs - he had been born in 1810 - he manifested as a breath of fresh air.

    For Queen Isabella the election was an awful and humiliating time. The truce between the liberal factions meant personal attacks on Her Majesty's personage were limited but to a monarch used to dashing soldiers and the scions of ancient families the concept of Spain turning to a glorified ironmonger was shocking. She also, perhaps, had an inkling as to what her fate would be should the unthinkable happen and the liberals triumph in the Cortes.

    The one moment of hope that came during the campaign was perversely tragic. In late May three Jesuits (two Spaniards and a Portuguese born man in long time Spanish service) disappeared in the Ashanti Kingdom in West Africa [2]. It soon emerged that the trio of missionaries had been executed on the orders of Mensa Bonsu, the Ashanti monarch. Various lurid stories about the fates of the missionaries had the African king feed them to crocodiles or sacrifice them to strange and terrible pagan deities but by far the most reliable account suggests two of the three were simply hung and the third died of fever during his imprisonment.

    The 'Ashanti Massacre' dominated the Spanish popular press for days and for a moment it seemed like the popular feeling of revulsion would save the conservative cause.


    Ashanti atrocity.jpg


    The 'Ashanti Atrocity' unified Spanish feeling and led to government protests - but no immediate action.
    The Queen wanted war and she was probably correct in thinking the country wanted war too. The liberals were momentarily silenced, caught by the shift in mood towards the Church and the military. It was left to the unfortunate Marqués de Roncali to explain to his monarch why war was impossible. Simply put the Ashanti, though independent were in the French sphere of influence and any move against the West African kingdom would bring down the unholy fury of the Parisian government. Worse, the French government under the leadership of Jules Ferry was in the grip of an 'anticlericalist hysteria' in the Marqués de Roncali's words and therefore scant sympathy could be expected from that quarter.

    The Marqués de Roncali went as far he dared. On 11 June he publicly denounced the Ashanti in the Cortes and called on the French government to intervene and depose 'the barbarous Mensa Bonsu'. The Spanish prime minister did not allude to the exact nature of French protection of the Ashanti but spoke of the strong local knowledge and experience held by the French. The words were strong and the press supportive but as it quickly became apparent the Madrid government could not - would not - go further perceptions of the whole affair soured. Within days the liberals felt free to savaging the conservatives on the economy.

    On 1 July the votes were cast and the fears of the conservatives were confirmed. The liberals had triumphed, though perhaps not to the extent they might have been expected to. Out of four hundred and three seats in the Chamber of Deputies the liberal bloc had won one hundred and eighty seven - sixty three Progressives, sixty two Unitary Republicans, sixty one Federal Republicans and a lone representative of the anarcho-liberal Partido Radical. On the other side the Moderates won seventy three seats and the Unión Liberal (whose vote actually went up) won seventy making a mainstream conservative bloc of one hundred and forty three. The remaining seventy three seats were split between the mutual extremes of the Carlists and the Socialists.

    Whatever private disappointments Pedro Duro had over the share of votes and seats the Progressive leader immediately treated the result as a victory and encouraged the liberal newspapers to treat it the same way. Rightly supposing that the demoralised and weary conservatives had little appetite to contest the win he sought an audience with Queen Isabella, which was granted on 3 August. There was one further hurdle to overcome, the most difficult.

    During the election campaign part of the tacit truce between the royalist Progressives and their republican fellow liberals had been the gentlemen's agreement that Isabella could not remain on the throne. The republicans might grudgingly accept the monarchy in the face of what seemed an overall royalist majority but Isabella herself would have to go; she was too tarnished, too distrusted. Pedro Duro himself a royalist was blunt in his first audience with the Queen at the Palacio Real de Madrid. He could not hope to control a government without the liberal republicans and if he could not then they would strike a deal with the socialists and perhaps even sign an unholy pact with the Carlists. The future of the Spanish monarchy depended on Isabella voluntarily abdicating.

    It took hours of debate, of hysteria and tears but eventually the Queen was persuaded. On 7 August Queen Isabella II formally abdicated the thrones of Spain, Mexico, Peru, Bolia, Ecuador and Chile. Emotionally overcome she embraced her son the Prince of Asturias (soon to become King Alfonso XII) and departed under heavy guard for a private train to take her to Barcelona, and thence by steamer to Trieste and a long exile.

    After four decades the Isabelline Age was over.

    Election 1876.jpg


    The results of the 1876 election.

    Vote share 1876.jpg


    The vote share by province.

    Footnotes:

    [1] General Asensio had previously served as Captain General of Honduras and El Salvador.

    [2] In modern day Ghana.
     
    Chapter Twenty Three: Foreign Affairs
  • Pedro_duro.jpg


    Don Pedro Duro.


    Chapter Twenty Three: Foreign Affairs

    By the late 1870s Spain had, partly by design and partly by fortune evaded becoming ensnared in one of the continent spanning alliances between the European Great Powers. When war erupted between the British and the Russians over Poland in 1877 Spain maintained a studied neutrality, her distaste for Romanov autocracy and her sympathy for Catholic Poland counterbalanced by fear and distrust of Perfidious Albion. As General Asensio would note in his memoirs many years later: 'The ideal outcome for Madrid was that both sides should lose.'

    The Piedmontese-Austro-Hungarian-German War (also known as the Banat War) that broke out in 1881 was a more complicated affair. It stemmed for the unlikely alliance of Sardinia-Piedmont and her rival Austria-Hungary. The bad blood between the two powers appeared to pale into insignificance against their mutual fear of the German Empire. The Austro-Hungarians were genuinely popular in Spain, with Vienna often seen as a cultural and political model especially conservatives. The new monarch of Spain the young King Alfonso XII was engaged to (and in November 1879 married) an Austrian princess, Archduchess Maria Christina. Madrid and Vienna had no formal alliance for many years now but that had not diminished the general sympathy for 'Danubia'. The Kingdom of Sardinia-Piedmont meanwhile gave rise to conflicting feelings. At times the Italian state had been an ally of Spain, but her rough diplomacy in the Italian peninsula, which in 1880 led to a brief 'War of Honour' against the Papacy and the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies had unnerved many Spanish Roman Catholics. It didn't help that the Spanish royal family were far more closely tied by blood and friendship to the court of Naples than they were to the court of Turin.

    That left the German Empire, a strange and remote place of forests and mountains whose court was the domain of humourless Protestants and whose Chancellor was the most feared man in the continent. It would be inaccurate to say the Spanish government had an anti-German position, largely because it had almost no position on the Hohenzollern state at all. Outside of the Congress of Madrid dealings between the two governments had been infrequent and even international trade was scant. Had the Spanish government wished to an alliance with Vienna and Turin might have been possible with little domestic opposition.

    However such an alliance being possible did not make it palatable. A German victory would surprise Madrid but unless Bismarck had grown very greedy in his more seasoned years it would merely underline the balance of power in Europe, not change it. A triumph for the Piedmontese-Austrian Dual Alliance on the other hand would be welcome a return to normality but likewise offered little benefit to Spain. Though the Spanish press would remain fiercely partisan throughout the conflict Spain herself remain austerely neutral.

    The liberal government of Pedro Duro was much preoccupied by events at home [1] but gradually a distinctive foreign policy became clear. In a break with what had gone before the liberals were keen to turn away from a focus on the Americas, which they saw as an endless pit down which Spanish lives and treasure had been sacrificed. Good relations were maintained with the Confederate States of America but Spain let it be understood in Richmond that she would not become involved in another American war unless she had to - a veiled warning to the Dixie government that sabre rattling towards the Union would not be appreciated.


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    The 1878 coup d'etat of General Leonardo Márquez (the Spanish diplomatic response highlighted in red.)

    Mexico, as ever, would prove a problem. Ever since the Treaty of Veracruz Mexico had (nominally) been a monarchy united with the Spanish Crown. In practice outside economic matters this union was toothless and the dream of an Imperial Coronation in México City had melted away long before King Alfonso XII took the throne. Nevertheless the 'polite fiction' of Imperial Mexico seemed to satisfy most on both sides of the Atlantic.

    Ironically it was to be Mexican conservatives - the very people who had invited Spain into Mexico in the first place - who brought the system down. Many, perhaps most Mexican liberals were republican by inclination but under the lengthy premierships of José María Iglesias and Sebastián Lerdo de Tejada during the 1870s they were prepared to work the system. It was true that they were theoretically under the authority of a conservative Viceroy of Mexico (initially Don Miguel Miramón with Don Tomás Mejía succeeding him in 1875) but the Viceroy's own powers evaporated without command of the Congresso, which remained firmly in liberal hands.

    The rapid and successful September 1878 coup d'etat of General Leonardo Márquez (known as the "The Tiger of Tacubaya") shocked most foreign observers, familiar with his old record of almost fanatical loyalty to the forces of Mexican conservationism. Yet Márquez and many officers like him in the Army had long since lost faith in the current system. The Church and the traditional standing of the rural elite had suffered from the reforming zeal of the liberal governments in México City and with Spain unable or unwilling to intervene the Mexican Empire seemed a sham - indeed worse than a sham as the imperial dignity provided a shabby cloak to allow the liberals to pursue their own ends.

    The crisis in Mexico threw the Duro government into disarray. There were soldiers available in Honduras who might have intervened (though the available shipping was limited.) However there was a serious question in Madrid over whether they should intervene. The old guard in the Cortes, mostly the conservatives argued that too much had been lost keeping Mexico in Spain's orbit to abandon her now. The liberals meanwhile, agreed that that too much had been sacrificed in Mexico but that was precisely the reason to withdraw.

    At its heart the liberal position was driven by a potent mixture of ideology and pragmatism. For Spanish republicans - whose deputies loomed so large in the ranks of the government - good relations and economic ties with the government in México City were worthy ends in of themselves but the Mexican Crown was not just irrelevant but malevolent in increasing the prestige of the Spanish Crown. They may personally have preferred the democratic liberal government of Sebastián Lerdo to the grim clericalist presidential dictatorship of the Tiger of Tacubaya but not to the point that they wished to spend Spanish lives and money on overthrowing him.

    The royalist liberal Progressives, whose ranks included Pedro Duro himself did feel attached to the notion of the Mexican Crown. The King was genuinely popular outside republican (and Carlist) circles and the notion of abandoning Mexico altogether was distasteful. Still money spoke and the resources of the state were not endless. A war to topple the Márquez dictatorship would cost a fortune, all to restore a regime to fragile to preserve itself that had only paid lip-service to Alfonso and his mother before him.

    There was a third aspect to what might be called the 'non-interventionist majority' in the Cortes and it came from a surprising angle. Most Spanish conservatives believed that Spain had a duty to save the Mexican government, but a few approached the problem differently. General Francisco Serrano who had eventually succeeded Don Leopoldo O'Donnell as leader of the Unión Liberal party was close to the royalist Progressives. He had shared with them the distrust of Isabella and the much warmer regard for King Alfonso (of whom certain rumours suggested he was the true father.) General Serrano took the view that Mexico could be 'won' again without the cost of Spanish lives by wooing Márquez, who in many respects was a more sympathetic figure for the Spanish Right.

    This unlikely constellation - republicans who could barely contain their glee at getting rid of the anchor of Mexico, royalist liberals who ruefully weighed the costs and pragmatic conservatives who pushed for negotiations with the new warlord of México City - meant that Spain did not declare war on Márquez's new regime [2].


    Naples Conference.jpg


    The so-called 'Naples Conference' of January 1880, actually held in nearby Caserta.

    While all of this was going on the other Great Powers were looking towards the so-called 'Dark Continent.' From the 1860s on and for the rest of the century the expeditions of Livingstone, Brazza and other less storied adventurers, explorers and missionaries had opened up much of Africa that had hitherto been unknown to Europe. Much of these early efforts had motivated by a desire to crack down on slavery. Throughout the first half of the Nineteenth Century the Atlantic slave trade had been in constant decline, much thanks to the efforts of the British Royal Navy and 'legal' slave traders had all but vanished from the ocean by the 1850s. Though the abolition of slavery in the Empire of Brazil at the beginning of the 1870s had closed off one market even to the discrete illegal trade, the Confederate States of America and the Spanish colonial possessions still practiced 'internal' slavery [3].

    That changed in 1876 when one of the first actions of the new liberal government in Madrid had been the abolition of slavery in Puerto Rico. Though it would not been until November 1880 that slavery would completely outlawed in all Spanish territories the direction was obvious and there was surprisingly little resistance in the Cortes. Counter intuitively the end of Spanish slavery actually encourageed the Duro government to involve itself more in African affairs.

    It would be simplistic to maintain that 'Africanists' - those that pushed for a Spanish presence in Africa - were liberals while the 'Americanists' - who favoured a focus on Spain's old empire across the Atlantic - were conservatives. Simplistic but not entirely wrong. The Spanish wars in the Americas had been so strongly wrapped up in restoring an old position of honour that they had been tainted by association for many liberals. There was also the political cost; though most Spaniards firmly believed they had a right to involve themselves in Latin America the rest of the world simply disagreed. The conquest of Honduras and El Salvador had been greeted with intense hostility in London, Paris and Washington D.C. and there was little reason to suppose that an annexation of Guatemala, Nicaragua or Costa Rica would be met with any greater support [4].

    In contrast Africa seemed open for expansion. The Confrence of Naples in 1880 saw the governments of Austria-Hungary, Belgium, Germany, France, Spain and the Two Sicilies agree to rules about European development of the continent.

    The Conference, which opened in January 1880 was held in the vast Baroque splendour of the Palazzo Reale di Caserta. King Francis II of the Two Sicilies had declined to host events in Naples itself, ever a city of febrile mobs and an unpleasant place to reside in Winter. Matters had begun badly with the non-attendance of Britain and Russia who were of course at war and the deliberate slighting of King Victor Emmanuel II with whom Francis soon would be at war.

    Despite the tensions the Conference would succeed at its main aim of laying down regulations for European involvement in Africa, that even the British would subsequently follow. The Great Powers pledged to stamp out slavery and piracy, to regulate competing colonial claims with the other signatories of the Conference (and subsequently Britain) and to practice the 'Principle of Effectivity' whereby a power had to have established "effective occupation" of claim by treaty with local leaders, by planting the flag or by achieving effective administration over the area.

    Segismundo_Moret_por_Federico_Madrazo.jpg


    Don Segismundo Moret y Prendergast, the Spanish Minister of State.

    Spain's representative at Caesrta was Don Segismundo Moret y Prendergast, the former Minister of Overseas Colonies and recently appointed Minister of State [5]. Moret, of partial Irish descent like Leopoldo O'Donnell had emerged as one of the strongest and most eloquent voices in the liberal ranks in the Cortes. It had been he who had pushed most powerfully for the abolition of slavery in Spain's overseas empire, a stance that had won him international respect and fame (save in the Confederate States.) Moret had been sent by the Duro government to try and improve the Spanish presence in Morocco where the French had successfully banned their envoys from the Sultan's court.

    Moret was no fool and even before he boarded the steamer to take him to Italy he had privately decided to 'give up' Morocco, correctly reasoning the French would hang onto their influence there like grim death. Instead he proposed that the Spanish concentrate on Central Africa, specifically the territory around their existing underdeveloped colony of Equatorial Guinea. In his discrete conversations with M. William Henry Waddington, the French envoy at the Conference Moret proposed that Spain would drop any objections to a French protectorate in Morocco in exchange for Spain seeking territory in Cameroon, Gabon and the Congo basin. This last proposal was especially delicate as the Gabon-Congo region had recently been mapped for France by the celebrated Pierre Savorgnan de Brazza.

    Moret's diplomacy was seen as a failure by many when he returned to Madrid in February 1880, though the residual prestige over the abolition of slavery kept him in office. France had gained supremacy over Morocco and Britain would shortly do the same over both Egypt and Ethiopia with all three African states officially becoming protectorates within two years of the conference - effectively annexed even if they retained ceremonial local leadership. Spain on the other had would the authority, not of large states, but of a patchwork of small local polities and hundreds of square miles of grassland and tropical rainforest.

    It would be up to the Duro government to prove these claims were of value.


    Spanish Equitorial Guinea.jpg


    An 1880 map of proposed Spanish territory in Central Africa, surrounding the longstanding holding of Spanish Equatorial Africa.

    Footnote:

    [1] Which will be revealed in depth in the next chapter.

    [2] The 'wooing' of Márquez and the broader question of the Spanish Crown in the Americas shall be covered more thoroughly in a subsequent update.

    [3] Slavery itself was still legal in the Confederate States, Cuba and Puerto Rico.

    [4] Bluntly, in game terms the colossal infamy cost of annexing civilised countries one doesn't have an in-game claim on.

    [5] Foreign Minister.
     
    Chapter Twenty Four: 'Alfonsismo'
  • Alfons_XII_(cropped).JPG


    Alfonso XII, King of Spain and Emperor of Mexico.

    Chapter Twenty Four: '
    Alfonsismo'

    King Alfonso XII was a young monarch. He was three months shy of his nineteenth birthday when he was crowned in August 1876. Tall and handsome he bore little resemblance to his official father the flamboyantly effeminate Francis and from even before his birth gossip had flowed like wine through the Spanish court that the prince was the result of one Isabella's dalliances with any number of plausible candidates being whispered about in the labyrinthine secret world that comprised the aristocracy of Castile.

    Whatever about the mysteries surrounding his conception the King had inherited a weakened throne. The crisis in Mexico which erupted within a year of Alfonso's accession had rendered his never all that solid imperial crown into the stuff of gossamer. His South American titles were more secure, at least for the moment but it was Spain herself that was the most troubling. Republicans and Carlists were not, even united, a majority of Spaniards but they were vocal and influential in the Cortes. Alfonso presided over a government - itself weak and divided - that had toppled his own mother as a compromise to save the Spanish throne. It was not beyond belief the liberals might consider another candidate.

    Fortunately for Alfonso he was not without allies. While many generals supported the young King the true strong right arm of the monarchy was the Moderate (ie. conservative) politician Antonio Cánovas del Castillo. A prickly intellectual from Málaga with devout conservative loyalties and an innate loyalty to the Crown Cánovas took control of the leaderless Moderates in the Cortes and spoke elegantly in favour of Alfonso. Though not in power the Moderate leader did much to smooth over relations with Spanish conservatives, many of whom were still traumatised by the twin blows of a liberal government and the abdication of Isabella.

    The leader of the Unión Liberal party General Francisco Serrano was a less reliable, though equally important friend. General Serrano saw himself, and in some ways truly was, as a representative of Spanish centrism. It was known that he had supported the candidacy of Antoine d'Orléans, the Duque de Montpensier to the Spanish throne [1]. That ambition had failed but the Duque retained some support in Madrid circles, even after (or perhaps because) he killed the Duque de Sevilla in a duel in 1870. It had taken a great deal of careful diplomacy to win over Don Francisco Serrano but eventually the goodwill of the general - and the Duque - would be sealed with a kiss.

    María de las Mercedes de Orleans y Borbón, the beautiful teenage daughter of Antoine d'Orléans had been in love with her cousin the King for many years. When he took the throne Alfonso was determined to marry Mercedes, despite the opposition of many from the exiled Queen Isabella to the liberal government. The King, showing a steely determination few had previously realised pressed on. In December 1877 the twenty year old King and his seventeen year old fiancée celebrated a dazzling royal ball that matched and surpassed anything seen in the courts of London, St Petersburg or Vienna. The following month they were married in the grand old splendour of the Basilica of Atocha.

    The marriage was greeted with delight by the public. The handsome groom and the graceful bride seemed to promise a rebirth for a tired old country, racked by decades of intrigues and rebellions.


    Maria_de_la_Mercedes.jpg


    Mercedes of Orléans, Queen-Consort of Spain.

    It proved the cruelest of illusions.

    Six months after her marriage began Mercedes would be dead, a victim of the the typhoid fever that may have already been a hideous guest hidden at her wedding. In her all too brief time as a queen she had carried a son and heir but he had passed on without ever entering the world. Not long after, two days after she passed her eighteenth birthday Mercedes slipped away.

    The outpouring of grief was extraordinary. Unprecedented. All Spain wept with their King. And perhaps in tragedy the throne managed to gain a little strength, the bond of loss tying monarch and multitude. Alfonso was a changed man, sadder, more serious. He would marry again to Archduchess Maria Christina of Austria, but he did forget his bride and nor did the people. For the rest of his life the monarch would particularly look after the ill of Spain, ignoring the suggestions of his governments not to endanger himself. The King refused such concerns, believing it his duty to bring what balm he could to the loneliness and sorrow of the sickbed.

    While the King was still mourning his first wife he found himself in having to oversee a new constitution. The government of Don Pedro Duro had decided to expand the electoral franchise.

    It was not immediately obvious even to Spanish liberals that all men should have the vote and that if they did it should be worth the same. Many, especially in the republican ranks feared that the millions of rural peasantry suddenly entitled to vote would be steered by the clergy or the landlords. While patterns could be identified - the sales of newspapers, the crowds that lined the streets for royal visits outside Madrid or for public funerals, no one truly knew how the vast mass of the population felt.

    The idea of 'weighted universal voting' that would finally be introduced in the Constitution of 1879 was based on the idea, popular among many political theorists of the day that while all men should have a say on political representation the greater tax payers should have a larger say based on their greater stake in society. Essentially the electorate were divided into thirds, based not on their population but based on their class: upper, middle or working class. Each class would vote in an equal number of deputies for the Cortes even if their actual size was radically different. Such a system had been practiced for decades in Prussia, first as an independent kingdom and now as the core of the German Empire.

    'Weighted universal voting' won immediate support from the Spanish upper classes, at least from those who had resigned themselves to popular elections in the first place. The working classes, though hardly delighted by having a vote worth far less than their social superiors were at least pleased to have any sort of say in elections. It was the middle classes - the artisans, clergy, bureaucrats, military officers and clerks - that most opposed the shift. As a January 1879 issue of La Correspondencia de España noted:

    'The proposed law will result in the fastest growing, the most patriotic and the most intelligent section of society losing influence.'

    La Correspondencia de España was a conservative and royalist journal but its readership was middle class and largely Madrid based. Its concerns, and the very similar feelings of its liberal leaning rivals, spoke for the feelings of many.


    weighted universal vote.jpg


    The 'weighted universal' franchise introduced in the January 1879 Spanish Constitution.

    It would be middle class army officers who attempted a coup d'état that same year. On the morning of 20 October 1879 the famed Alcázar of Toldeo - a key military academy and fortress - fell to a surprise revolt by Colonel Mariano del Albornoz. Colonel Albornoz, a stocky and stout hearted officer who had been wounded during the Second Carlist War and had published an acclaimed manual on defensive tactics was an unlikely revolutionary. But then he inisisted he was not a revolutionary at all but 'his Majesty's loyal servant.'

    The 'Toldeo Rising' as it was inaccurately known - Alboronoz's confederates also rose in Ciduad Real - involved approximately six thousand rebels, the majority of them junior officers and most of impeccably bourgeoisie background. While it would be fair to label the rebels reactionaries who wanted at minimum the abolition of the 1879 Constitution they were not affiliated with Carlism. Rather Alboronoz's conspirators represented alarmed men of the middle classes, frightened that their hard won privileges were being thrown away. The officers publicly called on the King to abrogate the new laws.

    Alboronoz's revolt quickly collapsed once it became clear the King would stand by the new constitution and the government of Don Pedro Duro [2]. To defuse tensions the conspirators were treated leniently. Many were after all war heroes and the last thing either Alfonso or Pedro Duro wished was to alienate the Army, which in the vast majority had remained loyal but retained many with sympathy for Alboronoz. Unfortunately while this gentle handling of the rising was probably wise in the long run and was applauded by foreign newspapers it may have influenced another revolt by parties whose loyalty was clearly treasonous. On 10 July 1880 the Third Carlist War erupted.


    The Third Carlist War.jpg


    Carlist forces at the outbreak of the Third Carlist War, July 1880.
    The Third Carlist War was a strange affair, even by the Quixotic standards of Carlism. The revolt that had taken place earlier had taken place against a Spain denuded of soldiers by overseas commitments. In 1880 that simply wasn't the case: Don Pedro Duro had brought many troops home, partly in case intervention was needed in Portugal, wracked by an ongoing civil war [3]. Even combined - and history revealed how poor the Carlists were on that score - the rebels fielded far less men the loyalists.

    In contrast to 1875 Valencia was quiet while Carlist risings took place in Navarre, south western Catalonia (though not Barcelona), the Basque Country and in Asturias. The leader of the Carlists was a fifty three year old rail thin Cantabrian officer named Claudio Ortega. General Ortega who made his base at Santander ('King Carlos VII' remained safely in London throughout the war) was a skilled soldier, a student of the school of offense and relentless in his attacks. However he had his confederates had fatally misjudged the mood of the nation. Discontent was present, but in most areas that discontent did not naturally lend itself to the Carlist cause.

    For the government the Carlist revolt was an unpleasant surprise. The expectation had been that voting reform, by allowing some expression to the rural peasantry would cut off lance the boil of discontent that had seen the Basque and Catalan poor labourers and smallholders flock to the Carlist standard in decades gone by. Unfortunately the Duro government had not forseen how deep the sense of nationalism had become embedded in these same areas. Basque and Catalan Carlists did not see the reform of the vote as a benign extension of the franchise, they saw it as a further step to centralise control under the despised rule of Madrid.

    Even with the lack of coordination and numbers it would not be until 3 December and the Battle of Bilbao that the Carlists were finally defeated. Loyalist casualties during the campaign had been relatively light and popular opinion abroad had overwhelmingly supported Alfonso and Duro but it had still been an exhausting experience and it was a weary Spain that now faced a late December election campaign.

    Alfonso XII inspecting soldiers.jpg


    King Alfonso XII inspecting loyalist soldiers during the Third Carlist War.

    The vote of 1 January 1881 was the first to be held under the new constitution and no one was quite sure what the results would be; at least in theory the electorate had swollen to over four million though in practice various issues dramatically reduced the number of men who actually voted. Four hundred and ten seats were being contested in the Congress of Deputies. The campaign itself was illtempered and the backdrop of the war and the French annexation of Morroco did nothing to cool frustrations.

    The results were, in the broader sense, not too different to that 1876. The liberal bloc was returned with slightly less than half the total seats. However the balance in that bloc had shifted. Don Pedro Duro and the Progressive Party had won sixty eight seats and put clear blue water between their rivals and partners the Unitary Republicans and the Federal Republicans who held forty eight and forty seven seats respectively. The Progressives also had the satisfaction of emerging as the largest party for the first time, both in the Cortes and in terms of the popular vote (at least as calculated under the current constitution.)

    The mainstream conservatives had also seen a shift in the balance of power. The Moderates had done quite well, chasing the Progressives with sixty seven seats. The Unión Liberal party on the other hand appeared to be in decline with a sharp decrease in their vote and a fall to just forty seven seats. General Serrano was a man of many talents but seemingly his skills did not extend to the ballot box.

    It is when we get to parties beyond the centre that the election of 1881 can be seen as most dramatic. Those deputies who belonged to the 'extremes' - that is neither conventionally royalist (Progressive, Moderate,
    Unión Liberal) or mainstream liberal republicanism (the Unitary and Federal liberal parties) held one hundred and thirty three seats between them. Almost a full third of the Congress of Deputies. Of these, fifty eight were Carlists (making them independently the third largest party in the Cortes), fifty three were socialists (split into two different and mutually antagonistic parties) and twenty were members of the anarcho-liberal Partido Radical. Naturally such an unholy alliance was completely incapable of uniting but they could cause a great deal of trouble in the Cortes.

    This result of all this was that it was not immediately obvious there was a governing majority in Spain. Between them the mainstream royalists could muster one hundred and eighty three seats some twenty three seats short of a majority. A hypothetical 'republican bloc' implausibly uniting the liberal republicans, the anarcho-liberals and the socialists could muster one hundred and seventy seats some thirty six seats short of majority (and such a 'bloc' would be composed of multiple parties whose only common belief was that Spain should be a republic.)

    Don Pedro Duro as leader of the largest party would remain President of the Council of Ministers and would be able to form a government that managed day to day with the support of the centrists, making deals as needed but it was clear that the hoped for stability of 1876 remained - just - out of reach.


    1881 election.jpg


    The results of the 1881 election.

    Vote Share 1881.jpg

    The vote share by province.
    Footnotes:

    [1] Antoine d'Orléans was Queen Isabella's brother-in-law and therefore Alfonso's uncle. He was also a son of King Louis-Philippe I of France.

    [2] This rising really was made up of Reactionaries unaffiliated with the Carlists in game terms.

    [3] Portugal was locked in a civil war during the late 1870s and early 1880s between the ruling absolutist Miguelists, supporters of King Miguel I (and subsequently his son Miguel II) and the liberals supporting Dom Luís, the Duque do Porto (son of the late Queen Mary II.) Spain was officially neutral during this conflict though different factions in Madrid rarely bothered to hide their partisan feelings.
     
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    Chapter Twenty Five: The Crisis of the 1880s
  • Caricatura_en_La_Araña,_número_6.jpg


    A caricature from 1884 expressing the frustrations many in Spain felt over the countrie's political leadership.

    Chapter Twenty Five: The Crisis of the 1880s

    The election of 1881 had left the liberals in government but not in power, their authority depending on the whims of other parties and the divisions in their own bloc sharp. Though Pedro Duro was determined to govern as if he had a mandate the government was undeniably weak.

    It might have been assumed - and was assumed by many - that the Third Carlist War had finished off militant Carlism for good. The Duque de Madrid, the self proclaimed King Carlos VII enjoyed a gloomy exile, largely unrecognised by any other government. Though he retained the services of the gallant General Ortega, who had achieved much with very little Don Carlos might have supposed he would never set foot in Spain again. Little could he have foreseen the strange events that would sweep across Spain.

    The Pedro Duro government was committed to free trade. The heavy tariffs on foreign goods that had been a constant feature of Spanish life vanished one by one in the late 1870s and early 1880s. For the liberal bloc it was an axiom that free trade was a boon to the economy and that Spain could only thrive by letting in international trade, even it came at the cost of local businesses previously shielded from the trading muscle of Britain, France and Germany. On a national level this probably did increase the living standards of many Spaniards but it came at a ruthless cost in the failure of inefficient factories, and it dramatically reduced the tax revenue of the Spanish state.

    From the 1830s through the 1870s the tariff wall had indirectly funded the Spanish military. The sudden disappearance of this stream of silver was a disaster for both the Army and the Navy. While the Madrid government was not so foolish as to reduce pay, or worse begin cutting the number of men in the active service the Spanish military would be forced to do more with less. The national stockpiles for both the Army and the Navy were ruthlessly slashed and there was an effective freeze on the introduction of new material. The Real Armada Española was hardest hit and it could not have come at a worse time. The Admirals, painfully aware that their ships were growing dangerously obsolete had been lobbying for years for a construction campaign to introduce modern warships [1]. With the current facilities woefully ill equipped to handle the ironclads of the 1880s there were also ambitious plans to expand the port of Cádiz.

    Unfortunately the anemic budgets of the early 1880s meant that neither option was viable in the near future. Part of the blame in fairness lay with the Navy itself which was in the throes of a bitter civil war over whether Spain should have a large bluewater battlefleet of ironclads or focus on more lightly armed commerce raiders and torpedo boats. This was seen in some quarters as an inexpensive option and in many ways it was but it quickly emerged that even this was beyond the means of the new budgets. Madrid seemed content to rely on ancient wooden hulled sail-and-steam powered vessels.

    The Army at least did not have to suffer the indignity of finance induced obsolescence but the cuts still hurt, and they had their problems still recovering from the trauma of the 'Toldeo Rising'. As the government's popularity plummeted some officers began to express the quasi-treasonous view that Colonel Mariano del Albornoz had been correct, and there was a groundswell of support that the officer be pardoned and brought home from the penal colony of Fernando Po off the African coast. This was too much for the government, which tried to stamp out sympathy for the rebel with harsh discipline.

    The result of all this was a sharp drop in military morale and the rise of a sustained anti-government feeling in the barracks and mess rooms.

    It was not simply the Spanish military that was growing disillusioned with the government. In 1882 and again in 1883 poor harvests left much of the population hungry. The response from Madrid was typically seen as indifferent, relying on an economic orthodoxy that the government should intervene as little as possible. In Catalonia, Valencia and the Basque Country were Carlist sentiment was still strong in rural areas the rhetoric heard in impoverished villages took on a harder edge than simple romance.

    Even with all this the domestic unpopularity of the government might have led to nothing worse than a defeat in the next elections [2], but for a series of foreign policy misfortunes.


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    Spanish Africa, 1884. The 'Équateur' region - claimed by both Madrid and London - is outlined in red.

    The exploration of Africa had thrilled many in Spain with stories by turns thrilling and lurid of gallant officers charting the Sanga, Gabon and the mighty Ogooué one the greatest rivers of the continent. Reports and specimens of crocodiles, elephants and monkeys were sent home by Captain José Antonio Gómez (a staunchly religious Army officer sometimes known as 'Spain's Brazza') and colourful vignettes of men falling prey to the exotic wildlife of the Gulf of Guinea region became a regular feature of the yellow journals of Madrid. Captain Antonio's primary mission however during his expeditions of 1881-82 (Gabon) and 1883-84 (Cameroon) was to secure the vast protectorate Spain had claimed at the Congress of Naples. In contrast to the French, busy bloodily annexing much of Western Africa the Pedro Duro government had favoured negotiation with the local states and tribes. This was less due to any great humanitarian feeling than it was unwillingness to spend money on a military solution.

    Spain's largely peaceful expansion in Africa ran into difficulties in mid-1883. A small Spanish expedition under Lieutenant Pedro Portillo López, a protege of Gómez had pushed on into the territory the French explorers had termed 'Équateur' due to its proximity to the Equator. In August of that year López reached Basoko on the Congo River and planted the flag. Unfortunately for him only three weeks later a British expedition would arrive pushing from the east, ready to proclaim the terroritory for Queen Victoria.

    Nothing could have horrified Madrid more than war with Britain over a scrap of territory in Africa but unfortunately for the government the Spanish public, egged on by the newspapers were utterly opposed to any concessions to 'Perfidious Albion.' Spain - the popular feeling went - had reached Équateur first and possession of the region was a matter of national pride. Some of the more excitable journals were calling for war before the end of October.

    Fortunately for Spain the British government no more wanted war than their counterparts in Madrid and though tense the situation was allowed to simmer as the Spanish and British on the ground tried to strengthen their position by deals with the locals. It was a diplomatic dodge that was certainly in the interests of a country in no way ready for war with the strongest power on Earth but to a disgruntled public it inevitably looked like weakness, especially after a government supporting newspaper unwisely (if likely accurately) predicted Spain would eventually have to withdraw if the British did not.

    While all this was going a war an even more serious business was taking place in Bolivia. Bolivia was unified with the Spanish Crown and had a Viceroy appointed by Madrid but was largely self governing. Earlier in 1883 a revolt had erupted in the North of the country. Surprisingly the rebels were not, as might be expected, left wing or liberal nationalists. Rather the Bolivian malcontents were strongly conservative and drew their inspiration from the likes of General Leonardo Márquez of Mexico. They objected to Spanish influence because it was perceived as being excessively liberal and there was even consideration among the rebels of offering the crown of a fully independent Bolivia to a foreign prince should they succeed in overthrowing the Viceregal government [3].

    The crisis in Bolivia underlined just how weak Spain had become in military terms. While there were no Spanish soldiers closer than Honduras this would not have been a problem had the ships been available to transport them and the ammunition available to equip them. There were loyalist troops in Bolivia, under the command of the Viceregal government and Madrid believed or chose to believe that these forces would prove sufficient. It was to prove a fatal miscalculation. Over the course of a year the rebels slowly gained control over much of Bolivia and by the second half of 1883 it was clear that more would be needed. Madrid ordered the Viceregal armies of Peru and Chile to intervene in Bolivia, much to the derision of the Spanish press who rightly saw this as Duro attempting to wage war on the cheap.

    Bolia revolt.jpg


    Bolivia in mid-1883. The Peruvian and Chilean armies were forced to intervene to restore order.

    The bad harvests, the factory closures, the Army and Navy resentment, the humiliation in Africa and Bolivia... all these factors and others more minor but just as galling combined to turn the people against a government that was not popular to begin with.

    The one exception to the growing anger was the person of the King. Alfonso XII remained personally popular and the wave of sympathy over the death of his first wife had never left him. However the young monarch was largely perceived as amiable yet powerless. This was positively beneficial to those Spaniards, mostly liberal and of the urban upper middle class who supported a powerful Cortes or even a republic but to the majority of Alfonso's subjects who saw the liberal government as a problem, that was a frustration.

    The conservative opposition in the Cortes might have seemed an obvious locus for expressing anger at the government and especially after the African crisis began. Antonio Cánovas del Castillo, the conservative parliamentary leader and a great supporter of the King was bombarded by newspaper editorials and private correspondence pleading with him to intercede with Alfonso and ask for fresh elections or even to be outright appointed President of the Council of Ministers and asked to form a cabinet. Cánovas, though a true blue conservative who disliked and distrusted the Duro regime resisted these calls. As friendly as he was with the monarch the politician could not be sure his advice could be followed - and in any case he was wary of stirring republican sentiment.

    Canny though he was Cánovas and nearly everyone else in the Spanish political elite had underestimated the explosive underground growth of Carlism. In traditional Carlist strongholds this was more like a reawakening of the old faith but in areas that had long remained loyal to Isabella and her mother and to a quasi-democratic Spain it gained new adherents. The advantages of Carlism was that it offered very different things to different people beyond its core principles of 'Dios, Patria, Fueros, Rey' ['God, Fatherland, Regional Self-Rule and the King']. To the urban working class unsettled by the uncompromising economics of liberal government and alienated by the irreligion and internationalism of the socialists it offered a Catholic alternative support network. To those disturbed by the open republicanism of much of the government bloc it provided a refuge in steady monarchism.

    In May 1884 several Carlists including Colonel Diego Villar (a former confederate of Colonel Mariano del Albornoz) secretly met with General Ortega in Bilbao. The general had been sent by Don Carlos in London to discover the extent of Carlist sentiment in Spain. Though the monarch-in-exile was kept informed by Cándido Nocedal, the voice of 'electoral Carlism' in the Cortes Don Carlos suspected the situation might be quite different when viewed from beyond Madrid. Even so Ortega was shocked by quite how many supporters Colonel Villar claimed might be on hand.

    As the excited officer wrote back to London:

    'My King, Don Diego [Villar] has revealed to me that over ten thousand men have taken the oath of loyalty to your person in Asturias alone and he is well informed that our cause is on everyone's lips in Barcelona and Valencia... send word sire and your subjects will rally to you and sweep away this rotting government before it falls apart on its own, taking Spain with it!'

    If anything both Ortega and Villar still underestimated the strength of feeling among civilians. It would not be until the Fourth Carlist erupted in June 1884 that it finally became clear just how much trouble the Madrid government had fallen into.


    Fourth Carlist War.jpg


    Outbreak of the Fourth Carlist War, 8 June 1884.
    Footnotes:

    [1] The problem is very much money rather than technology I'm afraid.

    [2] Due in 1885.

    [3] Bolivia is in game terms a Presidential Dictatorship and the rebels are Reactionaries so a successful revolt will shift Bolivia into an Absolute Monarchy government.
     
    Chapter Twenty Six: The Fourth Carlist War
  • 1280px-Enrique_estevan_y_vicente-carga_de_lacar_1886.jpg


    Loyalists (black caps) and Carlists (red berets) clash at the First Battle of Bilbao, 9 June 1884.


    Chapter Twenty Six: The Fourth Carlist War


    The first casualty of the war was Don Pedro Duro. On the morning on of 10 June the prime minister fell on his sword, appearing at the gates of the Palacio Real de Madrid as a shattered, red eyed figure broken by the disaster that had overwhelmed his country and government. He handed his resignation to King Alfonso who gently shook his hand and thanked him for the work that had been done. A courtier who had observed the whole affair described it as 'like a doctor informing a patient of an untreatable illness, all soothing words and sad eyes and the feeling of unstoppable events.'

    With Duro gone the King moved quickly. Normally the obvious successor was the former Secretary of State, Don Segismundo Moret y Prendergast. Moret was a liberal royalist and thus linked with the Duro government but he had a personal popularity and international standing his peers lacked. Unfortunately in June 1884 he was serving as ambassador to the Court of St James's. He would remain in London for the duration of the crisis as there were all too real fears in Madrid that 'Perfidious Albion' might recognise Don Carlos as King of Spain in return for a swift understanding in Africa. Moret's skills were needed to keep the British at bay.

    However there was another option. The liberal bloc was the largest faction in the Cortes but the conservatives were a sizeable bloc. Alfonso had great faith in Antonio Cánovas del Castillo, the leader of the Moderates and the politician who had fought the King's corner in the dismal circumstances of his mother's abdication. On 12 June the King summoned Cánovas and requested he form a unified Loyalist government. The monarch informed the conservative leader that mere hours earlier he had received a telegram from London pledging Moret's support for an emergency arrangement for the duration of the crisis. It had been the first piece of good news to reach the Palacio Real in days. Without Moret's confirmation Alfonso may have asked Cánovas to form a government anyway and the best man available, but with it he could breath a little easier about the liberals falling into line.

    Appointment of conservatives.jpg


    The appointment of a Moderate dominated government under Antonio Cánovas del Castillo.

    Madrid beyond the palace had been shaken by word of the revolt and rumours of the scale of the Carlist forces but after a day of panic the city rallied. The Spanish capital was strongly Alphonsine in sentiment and those malcontents that did exist leaned republican rather than Carlist. Beginning on the evnining of 10 June and continuing for many days thereafter, thousands took to the Plaza Real carrying flags, religious icons, portraits of King Alfonso and his wife Queen Maria Christina of Austria. The Loyalist crowds, driven to a frenzy by numerous street orators burned effigies of the pretender. For foreign reporters this lurid display confounded predictions in the Lodon, Parisian and New York press that the Spanish regime would collapse at the first crack of a rifle or glint of a bayonet.

    The spontaneous Loyalist displays in Madrid and to a lesser extent Seville, Cadiz and Toledo gave great comfort to Alfonso and his government but to actually defeat the Carlists the two-thirds of Spain that followed Alfonso and constitutional government would have to be rallied. The new Cánovas-led government passed a ruthlessly protectionist emergency budget through the Cortes to finance rearmament. The sky-high tarriffs would pay for the supplies and such a measure was desperately needed. The available ammunition, shells and sundry other elements vital to maintain a modern army fell short of those needed even by existing soldiers, still less that of the tens of thousands of reservists the government would need to call up. That Cánovas would win the 'battle of the budget' was as impressive in its own way as any battlefield victory.

    When the war began Loyalist forces in Spain proper consisted of ten standing regiments, seven infantry, two artillery and one hussar brigade organised into the Ejercito del Sur in Bilbao and the 11ª División based in Zargoza . Nearly all the officers and many of the men were veterans whether of wars across the Atlantic or of previous clashes with the Carlists and in Don Cristobal Heredia and Don Vicente Argüelles-Meres they had two fine and loyal generals. At Zargoza in the opening days of the war Heredia defeated a small force of rebels while at Bilbao Argüelles-Meres was forced to withdraw to the South, having inflicted heavy losses on the numerically far superior enemy. This opening phase of the conflict in the middle of June saw the Loyalists conduct a general fighting withdrawal to Soria.

    What the Cánovas government needed was time to consolidate the reservists and the enemy proved almost too eager to oblige. The Carlists, enamoured by the scale of their own rising were overconfident and suffered all the old failings of their brotherhood when it came to working together. It didn't help that Don Carlos remained in London, operating a rival establishment to Moret's official embassy in the British capital much to their mutual discomfort (it hardly needs to be said but both institutions were riddled with spies and informers from either party along with those passing information to Lord Salisbury.) General Leopold Maroto, an expert officer and probably the finest Carlist commander had a vendetta with his superior General Diego Villar and rumour held he had almost drawn his sabre on Villar once during a particularly heated debate. Without Don Carlos to enforce discipline and with the unpopular Villar as leader in the field the senior Carlists bickered, refused to request aid until it was too late and jealously guarded any personal successes.

    King Alfonso was more fortunate, if such a term can be used for a monarch whose nation had collapsed into civil war. Even before the Carlist revolt the King had been by far the most popular man in Spain and with the country imperiled he experienced a rebirth of royal authority. Alfonso was not an absolute monarch, or even one who held the power enjoyed by the Austrian or Russian emperors but the forced abdication had left the Spanish Crown the weakest in Europe. No longer. The monarch was kept informed by Cánovas and his generals and treated almost as a talisman of the constitutional cause. Travelling by train and horse he would visit the front lines many times during the Summer and early Autumn, a solemn and handsome young man in uniform gravely accepting the salute or more warmly shaking the hands of wounded soldiers. No greater contrast with Don Carlos in far off Britain could be imagined.

    One aspect Alfonso, Cánovas and Moret (via telegram) ruled out was requesting aid from Paris. The French Republic practically drooled at the prospect of defeating a reactionary monarchy but the Spanish Loyalists knew that nothing would rally waverers to Don Carlos' banner faster that the idea that Alfonso was a pawn of the French. Better to fight on and risk failure than invite in such 'help'.

    Even with the scale of the rising the Loyalists still controlled two thirds of Spain and with general mobilisation ordered by the government mere days after the first Carlist standards were raised reservisists flowed in from the Alphonsine strongholds of New Castile and Andalusia. Eventually over two hundred thousand men would be in uniform, though not all would see action before the close of the war [1]. The railways (another resource poorly exploited by the Carlists) allowed the government in Madrid to coordinate the Army to a far greater degree than in any previous war.

    Despite the fears of some newspapers both within and without Spain there was little known instance of desertion. Much of the strength of the Carlist cause depended on localism; it appealed to those who identified more as Catalans, Basques and Valencians than Spaniards. This tended to increase the divide between Loyalists and Carlists, and on the Loyalist side led to a growing disdain for the regions seen to back the enemy regardless of whether they were in arms or not. This was something the King was deeply uneasy about but it was hard to fight when so many on his side wrapped the flag around themselves.

    The first major counteroffensive began at Oviedo on 29 June where a smaller force of Carlists was routed by thirty thousand freshly raised Loyalists. Three days later the Loyalists recieved a sharp setback as the last Alphonsine defenders in Barcelona surrendered leaving the capital of Catalonia in Carlist hands. Recieving the news General Heredia, now in overall military command in the northern front marched his army towards the Cantabrian port of Santander.

    Battle of Santander.jpg


    The Battle of Santander, 15-17 July 1884.

    Santander which faced out onto the Bay of Biscay was vital for the Carlists; with the Spanish Navy in Loyalist hands and blockading the Catalan coast and the French government an unfriendly neutral the flow of supplies into Spain depended on maintaining access to this vital seaport. Twenty seven thousand Carlists under Ignacio Espartero - a cousin of the great Duque de la Victoria himself - had fortified positions along the banks of the Ria de Solía. Though they lacked heavy guns and horse they were otherwise well armed and probably the most formidable single concentration of troops available to the Carlists.

    In two days of heavy fighting (15-17 July) Heredia encircled the enemy, peppering them with artillery and harrying their flanks with his hussars. Though the Loyalists numerical superiority was such they might have won through sheer weight of numbers Heredia was loathe to throw away the lives of his men. Instead he focused on swift and well planned attacks designed to destroy the enemy's morale, all the while slowly closing the net. General Espartero realising that the Loyalists were not going to throw themselves on his prepared defences and himself growing rattled attempted to break on the dawn of 17 July. It was a disastorous decision that would see the Carlist general killed and his entire army destroyed with over twenty thousand prisoners falling to Hereda.

    The Battle of Santander was not the final pitched battle between the Loyalists and the Carlists but it was the most decisive. On 25 July the Second Battle of Bilbao saw another victory for Heredia. Though it wasn't as total as Santander in that a third of the Carlist forces managed to escape capture it did leave the rebel position in the Basque country on the verge of total collapse. Simultaneously an offensive under General Leopoldo Rojo was liberating Valencia.

    Catalan Front.jpg


    General Heredia's invasion of Catalonia, August to October 1884.
    By the middle of September all the Carlist field armies had been routed but the rebels still held Barcelona. Cánovas sternly ordered the city to be bombarded from both sea and land and finally, on 1 November 1884 the last rebels surrendered after King Alfonso intervened in negotiations, suspecting that his ferocious prime minister would have been quite happy to hang every man who had so much as shoe a horse or clean a uniform for a Carlist officer. The new terms fell short of full clemency but they did allow the rank and file to lay down their arms without immediate fear of their lives.

    The Fourth Carlist War was over and, incredibly, the Loyalists had triumphed.

    By most measures the rebels should have won. Though the Carlist supply situation was never good even at the peak of their powers in June the government in Madrid had to deal with similar problems and surmounted them. Initially at least the Carlists had enjoyed the advantage of numbers and had they pressed on their attack Madrid might have fallen by the middle of July and with it the government and Alfonso. Instead they had proved content to siege targets that might have been regionally and symbolically important but were a distraction from any attempt to take Madrid. The only significant city that did fall to the Carlists was Barcelona and given the support Don Carlos had there the rebel capital could easily have been held by a far smaller garrison. Ultimately it was this inability to plan overall, to work together and to utilise their many advantages that doomed the Carlists.

    Though the war had 'only' lasted half a year it had drawn a bloody toll. Perhaps a quarter of a million had been killed or wounded and tens of thousands more had fled Spain. Even before the fighting Catalonia and the Basque Country had enjoyed the doubtful honour of joining Ireland, Norway and Russian Poland as the great exporters of people in Europe. Now that outflow was doubled, and not just due to ex-Carlists fleeing - even the Loyalists in Bilbao, Barcelona and Gerona had to cope with devastated homelands. The news from abroad promised an endless series of headaches Spain had been unable to deal with including certain war with Bolivia (where the Viceregal government had been overthrown) and possible war with China (where the Boxers had outraged Western opinion.)

    And yet it could have been so much worse. More than half of Spain had been untouched by direct fighting. No foreign soldiers had intervened. Cánovas's ruthless budgets had saved the economy from collapsing outright.

    And Alfonso XII remained King of Spain.

    Alfonso_XII._Pintado_por_Casado_del_Alisal_en_1884.jpg


    Alfonso XII, King of Spain and Emperor of Mexico.
    Footnotes:

    [1] While I did have standing regiments abroad they were too distant to reach so a combination of mobilised conscripts and the regular army regiments in the peninsula did the heavy lifting of the war.
     
    Chapter Twenty Seven: Post-War Spain
  • Kingdom of Bolivia.jpg


    The Kingdom of Bolivia, October 1884.


    Chapter Twenty Seven: Post-War Spain


    On 6 October 1884 as General Heredia's artillery were still bombarding Barcelona the Viceregal government in Bolivia surrendered to the rebels. Even with military assistance from Peru and Chile the pro-Spanish regime in La Plata [1] proved unable to fend off the nationalists and the Viceroy and his government had been forced to escape under cover night, taking isolated roads for the safety of the Brazilian border.

    Much like Mexico several years earlier the Bolivian 'revolutionaries' were aggravated conservatives whose quarrel with the old regime was personal rather than ideological. Indeed the now ruling military cabal immediately declared Bolivia an independent monarchy and sent representatives to Europe in search of a royal candidate for the throne [2]. It must be kept in mind that most of Bolivia's neighbours were monarchies. Peru, Ecuador and Chile were in personal union with the Spanish Crown, their relationship with Madrid much like that of Canada or Newfoundland with London. The Empire of Brazil, the greatest power in South America was a prosperous monarchy under the guiding hand of Dom Pedro. Therefore while there probably was some republican feeling left in Bolivia it was more than surpassed by a royalist consensus, supported by the Church and the landowners.

    Thankfully Peru and Chile had remained loyal to King Alfonso XII during the Carlist rebellion and their armies still outnumbered whatever Bolivia could raise. Though the government of Antonio Cánovas del Castillo immediately advised the King to declare war on Bolivia it was openly acknowledged in Madrid that Spain herself was in little condition to fight a campaign across the Atlantic. The Peruvians and Chileans would do most of the fighting and, as Cánovas admitted to the King would probably expect to be rewarded for their fidelity either politically via a further rush of autonomy, economically via investment from Spain or both.

    A key issue was the position of the viceroy. In practice Peru and Chile (and Ecuador) were governed by local politicians but the viceroys were appointed from Madrid. As part of negotiations with Spain 'Loyalist' leaders like Nicolás de Piérola of Peru and Jorge Mott of Chile were anxious to move these appointments to Lima and Santiago.

    The war in South America was not the only foreign crisis luridly splashed across the front pages of Spanish newspapers. In the Orient the Qing Empire, universally held to be corrupt, tyrannical and incompetent was living down to expectations through its inability or unwillingness to combat the Righteous Society of Harmonious Fists, better known as the Boxers. This reactionary society, driven to fury by the failures of the Qing in the face of Western pressures now effectively controlled much of China.


    Boxer territory.jpg


    The Chinese Empire in early 1885. Grey hatching indicates areas under direct Boxer control.
    Popular feeling in Spain was outraged by tales of atrocities inflicted on missionaries and Christian converts in China. Though the Spanish presence in the Orient was minimal, outside the Phillipines and other small island holdings there were a few cases of Spanish priests caught up in the anti-Western hysteria gripping the Heavenly Kingdom. Daily the journals in Madrid and Seville demanded a strong Spanish response.

    If anything could be said to unite the politicians of Spain in late 1884 and early 1885 it was their desperation to avoid a war with China. A nation that could not realistically fight to restore authority over the second poorest state in South America was in no position to invade China. There was a fleet at anchor in Manila and a few regiments of soldiers in Luzon but the warships were elederly and the soldiers largely untested by combat. For decades the Philippines had been at peace and as much as that tranquility was appreciated it did not create the conditions for a formidable Spanish military presence in the East.

    Fortunately the ongoing conflict in South America allowed Spanish conservatives and liberals to evade the calls for an intervention in China with only some lost prestige [3]. In December 1884 Cánovas had met with Segismundo Moret y Prendergast who had now returned to Madrid and taken up leadership of the liberal royalists and (de facto) the liberal bloc in the Cortes. Though there were sharp differences between the two both agreed that the elections to be held in June should take place in as normal a manner as possible. Both were anxious to put the war behind them and return to some degree of stable constitutional government.

    Cánovas was aware that the conservatives had finished second in the last election, lifetime ago that that seemed. He also knew that he had not endeared himself even to Loyalists in the Carlist strongholds by his hardline peace - rumour had it that only the intervention of the King had prevented the Cánovas treating Barcelona as a conquered foreign city subject to martial law as against a liberated part of the Kingdom of Spain. However he also felt that he could rely on strong support from the Alfonsine strongholds who had rallied to the King during the war. The leader of the Moderates sought to portray himself as a stern but proud father figure of the nation.

    Moret had not even been in Spain during the war, which was both help and hindrance. Moret obviously could not draw upon the same imagery as the man who 'won the war'. The former Secretary of State was however still popular and respected and he was not tarnished with the failures of the Pedro Duro government which had beleaguered even other prominent liberals like his rival Práxedes Mateo Sagasta. For those, particularly in Catalonia who felt a little Cánovas went a long way even a hawkish liberal centralist like Moret was more appealing.

    Despite the best efforts of the participants the June 1885 election was dominated by perceptions of the war overseas rather than domestic construction. There was little actual difference in the stated policies of the conservatives or liberals, both of whom wanted to restore the link of Bolivia and both of whom were happy to fight to the last Peruvian to do it. Still if anyone benefited it was Moret who had made his name as a great diplomat whose presence echoed through the chancellries of Europe.

    The election was fought across a hot May, the most important candidates criss-crossing the country by rail to rally the troops before the 6 June and polling day. For the very first time census figures had suggested that a majority of Spaniards were literate, adding a particular punch to the newspapers whose circulations hit dizzying heights [4].

    1885 election.jpg


    The results of the 1885 election.

    Distribution of the vote 1885.jpg


    The vote share by province.
    The result was not all that different from 1876 or 1881. Yet again the Spanish voters had returned a divided parliament, revealing the deep divisions in the country to be ethced in granite. What movement there was saw a dip in the Carlist vote and members, unsurprisingly given the war. If anything the surprise was that they had not fallen further. In Catalonia, outside defiantly Carlist Barcelona, the various liberals were now consolidating the gap between themselves and the conservatives. Here the unpopularity of Cánovas had proved decisive. However elsewhere the opposite had proven true, with the liberal vote actually declining slightly leading to a paradox of both the liberals and the conservatives going up in both share [5].

    Cánovas was naturally disappointed but perhaps not surprised and dutifully recommended the King ask Moret to form a government. Alfonso, grateful simply that the elections had taken place without violence was happy to appoint the Progressive leader.

    Moret found himself in the same place his predecessor had in 1876. By personal prestige, the faith of the monarch and his leadership of the largest party he was prime minister but he led a rough coalition without an overall majority. At least he could rule out any demands from his republican cohorts for an immediate move against the monarchy. While the long years of Isabella and the disastorous reign of her father and indeed the recent civil war waged by devotees of a different monarch had tarnished the Crown in the eyes of many in Spain there was far too much personal affection for Alfonso for 'soft' republicans to support a campaign against the King.

    Perhaps the strongest voice for republicanism in Spain was Francesc Pi i Margall, the leader of the Federal Republicans and a major figure in the Cortes. Pi was a devoted advocate of a federal republic, seeing it as the answer to constant strife between Madrid and the regions. Pi was himsef from Barcelona and saw the constant push for centralisation as as great a problem as the Borbón monarchy. However he found himself faced with opposition from the Republicano Unitario deputies who felt the only problem with Spain was that it was led by a monarch rather than an elected head of state. He also knew that even had such a gap been bridgable many of the people who might support a republic in the abstract still felt that personal loyalty to Alfonso. Under the circumstances he, and most other republicans were prepared to support Moret's royalist government.

    With a reasonable degree of unity behind him Moret was left with the thankless task of sheperding Spain through one war, if possible avoiding another and restoring a wounded and divided country. As Summer ran to Autumn the battered Kingdom was beginning to find her feet.

    And then the King fell ill.

    01-muerte-alfonso-xii-benlliure-prado-pedralbes_65230d37.jpg


    King Alfonso XII on his deathbed, 25 November 1885.
    The King's constitution had never been the most robust and he had been assailed by colds throughout his reign, a condition not aided by his physically exhausting tours of Spain. During the course of 1885 it slowly became clear that the monarch was suffering from something worse. The royal doctors diagnosed tuberculosis but anyone who had met the King in recent weeks could have seen it in the pallor of face, the visible pain he suffered while breathing, the weariness that seemed alien to such a young man.

    Given the fractured state of Spain the true state of Alfonso's health was not made public until the illness was almost at its final stage. When the truth could be hidden no longer Madrid, always a centre of Alfonsine sentiment lapsed into shock, fear and the first stages of grief. Though the liberal and conservative leaders had discussed bringing in extra troops to the capital in the end they would not be needed. The streets were full of crowds but they milled about, every man and woman lost in their own world of loss.

    The dying King had been moved to the Palacio Real de El Prado outside the capital. On 23 November he rallied, briefly raising hopes but by evening he was again lapsing in and out of consciousness. At his request Alfonso's two young daughter's were brought to see him: the five year old María de las Mercedes, Princess of Asturias and the three year old Infanta María Teresa. While the two little girls spent their father's final hours with them a series of anxious conversations were taking place just outside the door. The Queen, Maria Christina of Austria was forced to divide her time between the fading Alfonso and the politicians for whatever happened she would be Regent of Spain.

    The problem was that while the Princess of Asturias was legally heir presumptive the Queen was pregnant. If she had a daughter then the Crown would go to María de las Mercedes. However should Maria Christina give birth to a boy that son would become King of Spain. It was becoming more and more clear that the King would not live to see the birth of his third child. Some of those present in the palace could still recall the regency of the other Maria Christina during the endless minority of her daughter. Was Spain to experience a grim reprisal of the same old song?

    Despite the wishes and prayers of everyone Alfonso did not recover. On 25 November 1885, three days days shy of his twenty eight birthday the King of Spain slipped away in the presence of his family.

    Footnotes:

    [1] The city of Sucre, which was renamed after the re-conquest of Bolivia.

    [2] 'Viceregal' Bolivia was a 'Presidential Dictatorship' and the Reactionary rebels shifted her into an 'Absolute Monarchy'.

    [3] The Boxer Atrocities event fired more than once.

    [4] Spain's literacy rate which had been rising since 1836 was 51% by 1885.

    [5] The liberals and anarcho-liberals (Partido Progresista, Republicano Federal, Republicano Unitario and Partido Radical) won 47.92% of the vote, the conservatives and reactionaries (Partido Moderado, Unión Liberal and Comunión Carlista) won 41.4% of the vote and the socialists and communists (Partido Socialisa and Federación Regional) won 10.68% of the vote. Note that in these elections the vote was weighted by wealth and if Spain had a universal franchise the conservatives and reactionaries with their stronger working class support might have pushed slightly ahead of the liberals and anarcho-liberals.
     
    Chapter Twenty Eight: A Throne Falls...
  • 1280px-Jura_de_la_Constitución_por_María_Cristina.jpg


    Maria Christina of Austria, swearing the oath of loyalty upon her official appointment as Regent of Spain, December 1885.


    Chapter Twenty Eight: A Throne Falls...

    For more than five months between November 1885 and May 1886 a swirl of uncertainty surrounded the Spanish Crown. True, whatever happened the regency lay in the hands of the twenty year old Austrian princess Maria Christina Henrietta Désirée Félicité Rénière but whether she would be Queen regent for her eldest daughter or for her yet unborn child was a vital question.

    The universal hope was that Maria Christina would produce a boy. This was no slight against the little Princess of Asturias who at the age of five was already beginning to prove herself a shy, rather serious character who took after her Hapsburg mother rather than her Borbón father in looks. Rather it was the fears that another female monarch would turn out like Queen Isabella II, not a fate anyone wished for Spain!

    While the Palacio Real de Madrid existed in a state of constant anxiety and apprehension the government lay in the hands of the President of the Council of Ministers, Don Segismundo Moret y Prendergast. The monarchy, which had so recently regained much of its 'soft' power under Alfonso XII returned to a more ceremonial existence as the Queen Regent had neither the inclination nor the personal power base to overrule Moret. The liberal leader was faced with turmoil abroad, though perversely this almost came as a relief as it played to his strengths as a respected diplomat. Once again Britain and Russia had gone to war over the Polish Question [1], but this time the French Republic and the Two Sicilies had sided with Saint Petersburg. Spain was officially neutral in this conflict, though opinion in Madrid was sharply divided along unusual lines. The Sicilian royal family were closely related to the Spanish Borbóns, while many Spanish liberals admired France. Conversely there was much sympathy in religious circles for the Roman Catholic Poles labouring under heathen Russian territory. The royalist-conservative La Correspondencia de España, the most widely read newspaper in the country tried to square the circle between Church and Dynasty by darkly alluding to the mistreatment of the reliably Catholic Irish at the hands of the Anglo-Saxons.

    Moret, himself with some Irish blood, had no wish to anger either London or Paris. Even had Spain not been split the kingdom was in little shape to fight a second war. The crisis in Bolivia was both a problem and a convenient excuse for the Spanish state to steer away from foreign entanglements.

    In Bolivia the war had hitherto been handled mostly by the Peruvian and Chilean loyalists [2]. On paper this presented a more than sufficient match for the Bolivians, especially with the pro-Madrid government of Brazil preventing any rifles or ammunition entering the rebel state from the east. However the Spanish had discounted two factors; the first was that Argentina was no friend of Spain. That South America republic had resisted attempts to fall under Spain's diplomatic or economic sway and somehow the moment had never come to allow Madrid a chance to reassert hegemony via force of arms. Now the porous Bolivian-Argentine border saw the renegade Bolivian government gain access to the wider world.

    The other factor was the quality of the Bolivian leadership. The rebels were mostly the old independence era elites, wealthy landowners of deeply conservative feeling who had seen the viceregal administration as firmly against their interests. In Don Luis de Vidal they had a daring commander who launched a counter-invasion of Peru and Chile in late 1885. The Bolivians were hardly a great threat to Peru proper, but it was becoming clear Madrid would have to get directly involved.

    On 7 December 1885 the Real Armada landed twenty seven thousand men at Cauquenes, Chile. The Spanish expeditionary force had been shipped from San Salvador and was under the command of General Alejandro Alcalá-Zamora, an experienced officer with a famously choleric personality. He was nicknamed 'El guacamayo rojo' - the scarlet macaw for the colour he turned when shown disrespect or brought bad news. Still in spite of this, or maybe because of this he was an expert raider and soon had the Bolivians in hand.

    On 17 May 1886 as Alcalá-Zamora was pushing into Bolivia proper Madrid was thrown into delight with the news that the Queen had given birth to a healthy son. King Alfonso XIII, literally a monarch from his first intake of breath was presented naked to the prime minister on a silver tray [3].

    Of course in the immediate term the birth of Alfonso changed very little - Maria Christina was still Regent and would be for a long time to come and Don Segismundo Moret still ran the country in the exact same fashion as he had before. Nevertheless something of the glow of optimism attached itself to the politician. The news from South America was good, the economy was for the first time showing signs of life and though there were some complaints about Moret's practice of devout neutrality in foreign affairs, that would see Spain absent herself from the Greco-Turkish conflict of 1886 most Spaniards appreciated his caution. As odd a term as it might seem for the blue blooded Moret he had begun to be seen as a 'Man of the People', with the sharp uptick of popularity that sobriquet implies.

    British Revolution.jpg


    The British Revolution of August 1886.

    The Anglo-Russian War of the 1880s - the third such clash within living memory for most Britons - had never been popular in London. Outside certain political and military circles who were in the grip of a paranoid mania about the ambitions of the Tsar the popular reaction had been, at best, resignation or a grim determination to go on. The average Englishman or woman cared little for India and less for Poland and though the government could draw on a rich reserve of Francophobia, there was even little enthusiasm for warring against the Parisian republic for arcane reasons in the easternmost corners of Europe.

    The prime minister was the Marquess of Salisbury, a capable and intelligent leader but a man of reactionary sentiment and given to cynicism and depression. He was not aided by the near invisibility of his monarch. Queen Victoria had retreated from public life after the death of her husband in 1861 and though she had eventually returned to her duties the impact on her popular personality had been lasting. With the influence of the French Republic so close at hand the sentiment of British republicanism, though never a majority, grew strong even among the respectable middle classes.

    During the first half of 1886 the British Army had been investing the French Channel coast in the hopes of landing a knockout blow that would push France to the peace table and force Russia to fight on alone. The Royal Navy, though still the largest fleet afloat had been caught in the throes of a major re-organisation when war had come and was hard pressed to keep up the blockade of France, Russia and the Two Sicilies. When the British suffered a ruinous defeat outside Rouen in May the ships were simply not there to rescue the stricken expeditionary and when Boulogne was retaken by the French in June tens of thousands of British soldiers were taken prisoner.

    On paper it wasn't a fatal moment - Britiain had near bottomless resources of soldiers in India and Africa and even in Ireland. However it was one thing to know that, it was another to realise that Southern England was suddenly hideously exposed to a French invasion and that most of the flower of British manhood was being held in prisoner of war camps. When the Salisbury government insisted that the United Kingdom would fight on London exploded into riots - and then revolution. With astonishing rapidity the Salisbury government collapsed, the Royal Family fled London and a restored Commonwealth was declared.

    The British Revolution caught everyone off guard, the participants included. It was not a socialist revolution, though socialists played a relatively minor part. Rather the British 'Jacobins' were a hetrogenus collection of radicals, pacifists, intellectuals and reformers. Sir Charles Dilke, afterwards President of the Council of State for the Commonwealth of Great Britain and Ireland was an excellent example of the strange constellation of new leaders in London. He was a republican and electoral reformer but had also been an advocate of the British Empire and a sitting Liberal MP and was along with many of the 'Jacobins' desperate to prevent the revolution turning red either in politics or in bloodshed.


    Queen Victoria.jpg


    Queen Victoria in exile, August 1886.

    There was in fact surprisingly little bloodshed. The Prince of Wales and his family were on a royal visit to Ireland and from there traveled via sympathizers to Lisbon. Other members of the Royal Family were also allowed to leave unharmed, most making for the neutral Netherlands. Victoria herself, though offered refuge in Madrid by Maria Christina would make her way into exile in Germany at the court of the Emperor Wilhelm, whose son was married to Victoria's eldest daughter.

    In Spain the attitude was akin to that everywhere: sheer disbelief. The strongest country in the world and what at least to outsiders had seemed the single most stable monarchy had been turned upside down. The Queen Regent's impulsive generosity in offering Queen Victoria safe harbour was a common feeling among European conservatives. Naturally Spanish republicans, predominately middle class and urban and therefore sympathetic towards the British 'Jacobins' were ecstatic.

    Moret's feelings were complicated. As a royalist he was personally horrified by the collapse of the British monarchy. Nevertheless he was also a realist, a pragmatist and deeply concerned with the future of Spain. The worst thing that could happen was that Britain would implode into civil war which quite apart from the human cost would bring down the global economy at a moment when Spain was at least seeing green shoots. It was in the interests of Europe that the moderate liberal republican regime of Dilke survive and make peace with France and Russia. To that end from August he tried to position Spain as an honest broker between the warring powers.

    France was willing to consider a rapid peace. M. François Paul Jules Grévy, the President of the French Republic considered his nation's honour more than satisfied by the military defeat of Britain and had no wish to strangle the fragile new government in London by carrying war to the knife. Unfortunately the Tsar felt differently. The Emperor Alexander III of Russia had been aghast at events in Britain and had every ideological reason to punish the British government. More to the point he considered himself the aggrieved party and wished to make sure no foreign government should interfere in his administration of Poland ever again.

    Between September and November 1886 the Dilke government in London was engaged in frantic negotiations with Saint Petersburg, Paris and Naples. Moret, in correspondence with Dilke (a fact he kept hidden from both the Queen and the Cortes) urged the British to avoid the temptation to drive a wedge between France and Russia and accept Alexander's terms as swiftly as possible, lest the Russians insist on the outright restoration of Victoria - and the possibility of pro-Victoria Germany becoming involved. Eventually the Commonwealth caved and agreed to the Tsar's demands which included the renunciation of British interests in Poland and a Franco-Russian military parade through the centre of the British capital.


    Russo-British Treaty.jpg


    The Treaty of Warsaw which concluded the war between the Commonwealth of Great Britain and Russia and her allies.

    The end of the war between Britain and Russia, France and the Two Sicilies was a great relief to Moret but with his own role unknown to the wider world he drew no credit from the peace. Instead the Spanish leader would almost immediately find himself plunged into foreign and domestic squalls.

    One headache had vanished in September 1886 with the surrender of the renegade Bolivian regime and the restoration of a Spanish viceroy. This did not mean all Spain's difficulties in the New World were done. The Confederate States of America was in the middle of a series of violent civil disturbance between socialist and conservative factions, which naturally impacted Spanish credit in Richmond. The Spanish were intensely reluctant to intervene in the Confederate States, fearful that by doing so they would discredit the legitimate government and perhaps draw the United States into the fray.

    Even without the crisis in Richmond relations with the United States were poor, with the Spanish resentful of the growing influence in Mexico. The government in México City was nominally tied to the Spanish Crown but with the Americans pouring dollars into the country there was a real fear in Madrid that even these token links between old and new Spain would be abandoned. From 1887 on both the Spanish and American governments would be engaged in a bidding war to win over the Mexicans who quite naturally were prepared to play both foreign powers off against each other [4].

    However it was to be one of the interminable Spanish domestic problems that delivered the greatest crisis of Moret's period in government. In March 1888, a conspiracy of reactionary millitary officers with the support of ex-Carlists launched a coup against the government, seeking to replace both the liberal cabinet and the foreign and female regent with an appropriate Spanish military man...

    military uprising 1888.jpg


    The military uprising of March 1888.


    Footnotes:

    [1] In November 1885.


    [2] In context in this AAR the term 'Loyalist' always refers to a supporter of the Madrid government and reigning Spanish monarch (or regent as is the case here.)
    on 11 November 1885, just before King Alfonso's death.

    [3] This really happened.

    [4] The US pushed Mexico out of my Sphere of Influence twice and I've been fighting a diplomatic war to retain control.
     
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    Chapter Twenty Nine: Revolution and Recovery
  • Alfonso_XII_Spanish_cruiser.jpg


    The Spanish 'unprotected cruiser' Alfonso XII.

    Chapter Twenty Nine: Revolution and Recovery


    The Spanish Crisis of 1888 was misunderstood by nearly every foreign government. The British Commonwealth and to a lesser extent the French Republic who saw everything through republican shaded spectacles chose to interpret the rising as anti-monarchist. With greater perceptiveness though little more accuracy the governments of Germany and Austria-Hungary believed Spain was reacting to the foreign policy failures of the previous half-decade and seeking to put a hawk in charge to strengthen Madrid on the world stage.

    In fact it is hard to make out the factors that led to the rising because there was no one factor. The conspiracy was a stew of many parts. The unreconstructed Carlists still dreamed of overthrowing what they saw as an illegitimate monarch, but they were a fading minority. Others objected to another foreign born regent in the Austrian accented person of Queen Maria Christina. Still others saw the prime minister as the problem. Don Segismundo Moret was broadly popular but especially on the right he had his enemies who saw him as an agent of secularism or a tool of the French or simply as a silver tongued charlatan with little idea how to run a country.

    For most of the conspirators however the rising seems to have been an attempt to cut off Spanish republicanism before it became a problem (making the reaction in London particularly ironic.) In 1888 the Spanish republicans appeared far too marginal to take over the state, but the same might have been said of their English counterparts in 1885.

    The Moret government, once it recovered from its initial shock had little trouble gaining popular support to crush the rising. In contrast to the Fourth Carlist War the Loyalists could call upon much of the standing army in Spain and it would prove a proud boast of the government that they were never forced to call up conscripts in the crisis. Among the available regiments were those veterans General Alejandro Alcalá-Zamora had used so recently in Bolivia. Now those crack troops and many more would be forced to fight on Spanish soil. Throughout Spring and early Summer the crack of rifle fire became a familiar sound in much of Spain, particularly in Catalonia were the rebels, driven from the rest of the country had determined to make their last stand. At the Battle of Barcelona (23 June 1888) the Loyalists under General Cristobal Heredia attempted to crush the rising in one decisive move. Though the numbers if anything favoured the rebels the Loyalists were better trained, equipped and led and Heredia had the finest artillery Spain possessed under his command. The result was the almost total disintegration of the foe with thousands surrendering on the field. Though a few more pockets of resistance would cling on for a few more weeks effectively this was the end of the rising.


    Battle of Barcelona.jpg


    The Battle of Barcelona, 23 June 1888.
    The Madrid government had scant opportunity to enjoy their victory in peace. In fact even before the firsts shots had been fired outside Barcelona Spain had already found herself at war.

    The small South America republic of Uruguay had seemed to live a charmed existence during the Nineteenth Century, avoiding so many of the wars and coups that had shaken her larger neighbours. After a rocky start Uruguay had established good relations with the Brazilian Empire and by the early 1880s was one of the most prosperous states on the continent, aided by the fine natural harbour that made Montevideo a gateway to the wider world. Tens of thousands of immigrants from across Europe, particularly Italy had flooded into the country over the years making Uruguay for her size the most densely populated country in the Americas. Most recently she had begun to drift into the Spanish economic sphere of influence, partially via her financial links with Brazil and partially due to Spanish silver and gold.

    Unfortunately while the rest of the globe was quite happy to toast Montevideo as a simple success and the 'Paris of the Americas' there were turmoils hidden beneath the prosperous facade and the elegant boulevards. The gap between the wealthy few and the legions of the poor was wider than almost any country save Tsarist Russia. Tens of thousands of immigrants having fled poverty and persecution had arrived in Uruguay only to find in many cases that they were now somehow worse off. In this sullen mix violence and extreme politics became common.

    In late 1887 several small feuding Left societies and parties united to form the Partido Socialista del Uruguay. At first the new movement was dominated by moderate socialists willing to work within the democratic framework Uruguay functioned under but within weeks communist hardliners had become the strongest voice, pointing to a political culture that appeared happy to alternate power between middle class conservatives and liberals. The Partido Socialista managed to gain support among both the 'native' and immigrant communities, indeed many of its firebrands were of Italian extraction with folk memories of the intensely conservative monarchical government in Naples or Palermo.

    The Uruguayan government naturally attempted to shut down the rabble rousers with time honoured tactics such as police raids on newspaper offices and union meetings. Had the local communists still been disunited such methods might have worked. Instead it radicalised them even more and in January 1888 open revolution erupted on the streets of Montevideo. After a brief but sharp struggle the government fell and Uruguay became a communist state.


    Assets seized.jpg


    The Uruguayan seizure of Spanish assets, March 1888.
    Under ordinary circumstances the fall of a friendly government to the forces of malcontentism would have produced protest in Madrid but little more. However Uruguay was different. For years in an effort to woo the South American republic to Spain's influence the government through the agencies of the Banco de España had invested millions of pesetas in railway construction and other projects. On 27 March the Uruguayan government seized all these assets at the stroke of a pen.

    The howl of outrage from Spanish financiers deafaned the Moret government and from that moment on it became inconceivable that Spain not go to war. On the advice of Moret the Queen declared war on Uruguay before the end of the day. One modest benefit was that in the capital at least the public mood turned even more against the Carlists and other internal enemies, largely seen as weakening Spain's image abroad to the extent that a minnow with delusions of whalehood like Uruguay felt it could anger Spain without retaliation. Unfortunately whatever the popular view in purely strategic terms the crisis had come at the worst possible time for Madrid with the reactionary rebellion still in swing and few soldiers immediately available to be sent.

    Moret did have the Navy. In March 1888 the Real Armada was far from a first rate fleet. Many of the vessels were hopelessly obsolete, dating from the 1860s or in some cases from the 1850s. The rapid pace of technological change had done the Spanish Navy no favours with many of the newer designs of heavy warship considered too expensive to be build or operate in Spain's limited shipbuilding industry [1]. The recent modernisation of Cadiz as a naval harbour had at least temporarily made a reform of the fleet plausible but that had not even begun in 1888 [2].

    The most modern ships in the Spanish navy were vessels that were beginning to be termed 'unprotected cruisers'. These ships prioritised speed over armour and heavy guns and were exemplified by the likes of the Alfonso XII one of the few new warships available to Spain. The expectation was that these ships would operate in colonial stations and conduct 'cruiser warfare' on the high seas [3]. Against a modern Great Power navy their weaknesses would have been many.

    Fortunately Spain was not facing a modern Great Power navy. At the Battle of Todos os Santos Bay on 3 June the Spanish easily destroyed the tiny Uruguayan navy and set up a blockade of the rebel republic.


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    The Battle of Todos os Santos Bay, 3 June 1888.
    The other option available to the Madrid government was not Spanish at all. The Brazilian government led by the Visconde de Ouro Preto had been horrified by events in Uruguay. Though the Brazilian monarchy was quite liberal and the Emperor Dom Pedro had voluntarily divested almost all his personal power there was still a strong fear and disdain of the communists. Moret scarcely needed to lean on the Brazilian ambassador to persuade him that Brazil should act.

    On 1 July 1888 Dom Pedro on the advice of his own government declared war on Uruguay, citing Brazil's alliance with Spain. The Brazilian Armada Imperial [4] steamed south to join their Spanish comrades and the Brazilian Army was called upon. By this time Moret was in a position to send some Spanish soldiers and thus preserve Spanish glory but it was difficult to argue the charge that Brazil did the heavy lifting in winning the war.

    On 19 December the Uruguayan government, on the run from Montevideo (in Spanish hands) and with most of the rest of the country in Brazilian hands surrendered. The Spanish terms were stiff; the republican government was abolished and Uruguay was formally linked with the Spanish Crown via a Viceroy to be appointed by Madrid. The state was also placed in a currency union with Madrid, with certain economic privileges granted to Brazil. However it could have been more severe still; the Uruguayan leaders were not hunted vindictively and many were allowed (quietly) to return. Uruguay might have lost most of her foreign powers but internally her government remained almost entirely in local hands.

    The truth was that Moret did not want Uruguay to be a running sore by creating martyrs or carving up the nation into a directly ruled possession. Turning her into a 'dominion', to use a now obsolete British term seemed safest.

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    Uruguay, December 1888.
    After the exhausting experiences of 1888 the following year was remarkably quiet, at least in Spain. Foreign affairs proved eventful and took up much of Moret's time including the unification of Italy and a short, ill advised clash between Austria-Hungary, France and Germany over the independence of Banat that resulted in the status quo at much cost in lives especially for Vienna and Paris.

    The mostly peaceful unification of Italy under the Bourbon monarchy of the Two Sicilies came as a surprise to all, though a pleasant one to Madrid. There was some consternation that the new state had leapfrogged Spain in population and power and some further discomfort that Italy had intruded on the venerable rights of the Pope by selecting Rome as her capital but Moret was able to soothe relations with King Francis II and his government, suspecting that many in Spain were cheered by the establishment of a strong Roman Catholic Latin monarchy to stand with Spain and Brazil [5].

    At home Spain was slowly recovering from her many travails. Some areas, particularly Catalonia had been very hard hit by war and emigration and only time would see some sense of normality return. Spain was due an election and there was uncertainty over how the country overall would turn out, with the personal popularity of the prime minister not necessarily indicating how well his party would fare. At least the election campaign itself seemed orderly and well tempered

    The one prophecy almost every newspaper made was that Spain would emerge from the election with a coalition government. It had been many years since one party or faction had achieved the votes to rule on their own. Even in times of peace the country was too divided and the voting system, weighting the franchise by class and population was almost designed to avoid party dominance.

    On New Year's Day 1890 the voters obediently trooped off to the polls. The result would prove a pleasant surprise for Moret and his followers. For the first time the liberal royalists opened up a clear lead in front of every other party. It was not clear whether Moret was being rewarded for winning wars or keeping Spain out of wars (or both) but he could confidently return to the Cortes with a mandate for the new decade.

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    The results of the January 1890 election.


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    The concentration of the vote.
    Footnotes:

    [1] Essentially the Spanish fleet is still mostly Commerce Raiders with some ancient Frigates and Man O'War still around. The lack of funds has been a problem but not as much as the lack of Naval Bases - I've been technically able to build Ironclads and Monitors for a decade but it took a long time to build up a Naval Base - by which time the 'Ironclad Era' is already closing.

    [2] Cadiz is my only level 3 Naval Base - and of course will soon have to be built up again if I want to build up cruisers and battleships.

    [3] In game terms 'Unprotected Cruisers' are Commerce Raiders.

    [4] Actually larger than Spain's at this time.

    [5] Sadly, while Portugal was 'Latin' and a monarchy she could not with honesty be called strong.