The Silver Age: A Spain AAR, Part 8
King Alfonso XII of Spain, Successor of Queen Isabella II
VIII. 1875
The booming 70s began with a second industrial revolution and a new King, Alfonso XII. Queen Isabella brought a dying lion from its knees and built the foundation of a new global empire. The Spanish economy grew with the other great European powers, not lag behind. The military, though not large, was highly experienced and could be compared to the also short in numbers but fearsome Spanish tercios of the old Spanish Empire, and Spain, along with Germany, were the most prestigious nations, their cultures being recognized from Russian aristocrats down to African natives. Diseased at the age of 45 she was entombed at the Escorial with the other great Kings and Queens.
Alfonso unlike past kings was truly a benevolent dictator. There are many accounts of him personally visiting the victims of epidemics and earthquakes not giving thought if he would get infected. Personality is not as important as administration skill though, but he soon got the chance to prove himself. The Kingdom of Italy was at this time almost a reflection of Spain itself. Relatively the same population, army, and a similar culture, but Italy had an enormous industrial base. Spain, though was industrializing, did not even come close. Alfonso’s advisors on the Cortes told him to just let Spain grow slowly, but he was not satisfied. Finally, Spain’s war-chest of tens of thousands of pounds was broken, a new industrial revolution began. The middle class of Spain grew many times its previous size, the fat capitalists grinned as they saw their factories packed with workers.
The King still was not satisfied, he wanted more factories. Spain still imported machine parts from the United Kingdom and it did not possess skilled engineers specialized in machinery. So, Alfonso proposed the next best thing: The Santander Steam Ship Company. At its completion the United Kingdom and Spain would be the only nations to produce steam boats, thus it was predicted that much profit would come out of the business. To the people he promised that when it was acceptable he would work to establish a flat tax of 20% and abolition of tariffs. The people rejoiced.
Steam ship factory to be completed in February 1877
The people not only rejoiced to the rise of such a promising leader, but also to the troops coming home from the wars in the Americas. Under the leadership of old Serrano they showed the world that this empire was not dying but rather it is undergoing a great revival. The old Marshal retired to his residence in Madrid in January 1st, 1875 where he died in his sleep in the arms of his wife by the next morning. Spain still had many wars to wage if it wanted to reconquer its former territories, but for now everyone enjoyed the postwar “boom”.
Coronation of Alfonso XII at the Cortes
January 1, 1875, the day of Serrano’s retirement to Madrid. Serrano and his wife dine silently.
Rice was plain and hot, a preference of his. The night was breezy and the dining room was lit with only a few candles, an environment that always made him comfortable, but Serrano was not. He was a different man when he returned from the war as if he experienced something different than from the other many wars he led. He expressed no emotion and ate mechanically, eating for substance and not enjoying it.
“You have not said a word since you entered this house” his wife observed receiving no answer. She put her fork down and looked at him, “Francisco?”
He looked up quickly at her as if he did not know she was sitting at the same table. “Yes?”
“What is wrong with you Francisco?”
“Nothing.”, he stopped eating and moved the yellow rice with his fork.
She sighed as she stood up to take the wine back into the cellar.
“What are you doing?”
“If nothing is wrong with you, then we can save the wine for a day when something is.”, she walked out to the back of the home where the liquor was kept.
“Two years in the Amazons and I come home to this” Serrano mumbled as he stood up from and called it a day to get some much needed sleep. After all it is retirement, he probably hoped to drink all the wine he could before passing out, but this was not the case. His wife closed the back door and helped clear the dining table and the maids began cleaning. They were only allowed to sleep when all their chores were done. She entered the bedroom and found Serrano lying on the bed with his eyes open starring at the ceiling. She sat on the bed waiting for him to say something, but it was clear she would have to work harder to get Serrano to respond.
“What is it? What happened to you? Did something happen in Colombia that you cannot even speak to your own wife?”
“Why?”, Serrano finally spoke.
“Why what?”
“Why do you care?”
“What kind of question is that? I am your wife!”
“I am a failure to all my morals!”
“Just what happened to you in Colombia?”
“The army returns home, everyone cheers. They not only cheer for their brothers and sons but for what they did. For the atrocities, the pillages. They were not at Bogotá, they did not see the battles! They did not see the senseless killings and they call me a hero. They inflicted as much damage to me as the enemy did. If they were there they would be…it is so…” Suddenly anger overcame him, his face turned red and he grabbed the sheets.
“I…understand.”
“You do not”, his anger gave way for despair and the old man began sobbing and his wife held his head against her chest.
“How much do you remember?”
There was a short pause, Serrano looked up at her, “Everything”. He looked down again and cried, the tears falling on the pillows. His wife rocked him and Serrano tried to speak, but he could not.
“Francisco, shh.”
Marshal Francisco Serrano y Domínguez, hero of the Battle of Bogotá, on December, 17, 1810 – January 2, 1875.
