FIRST WAR EXPERIENCE
I arrived at the headquarters of the Carlist Army, the stronghold of
Estella, about the middle of January, 1875. Estella had been the seat of
Government of the first Don Carlos in the earlier war.
On December 31, 1874, young Alfonso had been proclaimed King of Spain.
His accession to the throne had taken place earlier than the Civil
Government, then in power in Madrid, had intended. Its members were
Royalists, and were preparing the way for the restoration of Alfonso to
the throne, but were not anxious to hasten it until their plans were
matured. Sagasta was their Civil Head; Bodega, Minister for War; Primo de
Rivera, Captain-General of New Castile, all powerful with the soldiers
then under his command. The man who forced their hands was General
Martinez Campos, a junior general. A mile outside a place called
Murviedro he harangued 2,000 officers and soldiers, then camped there, on
December 24, 1874. The officers were already known to him as favourable
to Alfonso. They applauded him enthusiastically, the men followed, and
they there and then swore "to defend with the last drop of their blood
the flag raised in face of the misfortunes of their country as a happy
omen of redemption, peace and happiness." (December 24, 1874.) The fat
was in the fire. Those who were delaying the Pronunciamento had to give
it their support, however much they considered it inexpedient. The
Commander-in-Chief of the Army in the Field, Jovellar, and his Chief of
the Staff, Arcaguarra, were also Royalists at heart. Jovellar hastened to
instruct his generals openly to acknowledge Alfonso as their King, as
King of Spain.
One general, the Marquis del Castillo, was then commanding the Government
troops in Valencia. He was a loyalist too, but he did not think it right
to assist with the troops under his command in effecting a change of
Government, practically to take part in a rebellion while facing the
common enemy. Castillo prepared to resist the Pronunciamento and march
against the troops at Murviedro. Jovellar frustrated his intentions and
marched at the head of his troops against him. Castillo's officers and
soldiers fraternized with Jovellar's troops, and Castillo was ordered
back to Madrid.
Alfonso XII reached Barcelona January 9, 1875. Official functions, his
entry into Madrid, the issuing of Proclamations, fully engaged his time.
But he was most anxious to proceed north and place himself at the head of
his troops to whom he owed so much. Amongst the Proclamations was one
practically offering the Carlists complete amnesty and the confirmation
of the local privileges of the Provinces where the Carlist cause was most
in favour. Don Carlos rejected the offer with disdain. Alfonso then,
early in February, 1875, proceeded north to the River Ebro, reviewed some
40,000 of his best troops and joined General Morriones.
Such was the political situation. The military situation was as follows:
Don Carlos's Army numbered some 30,000 men. The provinces from which they
had been fed were becoming exhausted. On the other hand, Alfonso's troops
numbered about twice their strength, and their moral had been improved by
the success of their Pronunciamento and the return of some of the best
leaders to the command of groups of the Army. The Carlist mobile forces
had been much weakened in numbers by the blockade of the old fortress of
Pamplona, which had lasted a long time.
Alfonso, with the Army of General Morriones, marched to the relief of
Pamplona and successfully raised the blockade, February 6, 1875, forcing
the Carlists backwards. The situation became most critical for the
Carlists, as another Royalist Army, under General Laserta, was on the
move to join Morriones in an attack on Estella. If this plan had
succeeded it is probable that the war would have been finished there and
then. Don Carlos, however, succeeded in inflicting a severe defeat on
Laserta and completely upset the intentions of the Royalists. Alfonso
returned to Madrid, having been only a fortnight with the Army. His
presence was a source of embarrassment to the High Command.
I was able to be present at the retreat of the Carlist troops from the
blockade of Pamplona, as well as the capture of Puente de Reina by
Morriones, the defeat of Laserta, and other guerilla engagements. I had
become so interested in the work in hand that I had over-stayed my leave
by a very considerable period, and would either have to return at once
and take my gruelling at the hands of our Governor at the "Shop," or make
up my mind to join the Carlists and become a soldier of fortune. I
thought it out as best I could, and it seemed to me then that the
experiences I had gained--of perhaps the most varied fighting that any
similar campaign has supplied--might be considered of more advantage to
my career as a soldier than a couple of extra months of mathematics,
science and lectures at Woolwich, and that if I promptly returned and
surrendered myself to the authorities I might perhaps be pardoned. So I
collected my few goods and chattels, said good-bye to Don Carlos and my
friends, and returned home by no means feeling so elated, happy and
contented as I did on my outward journey.
On arriving in London I duly wrote to the Adjutant at Woolwich, informing
him that I had arrived safely in England after my campaign in the North
of Spain, and that the next day, which happened to be Tuesday, I would
deliver myself as a prisoner, absent without leave, at the Guard Room at
12 o'clock noon. This I did, and I was met by the gallant Adjutant, and a
guard, and was promptly put under arrest. Some of my contemporaries may
still remember the occasion of my return. Numerous had been the rumours
about my doings. At times I was reported dead. At other times I was
rapidly being promoted in the Carlist Army. I had also been taken
prisoner by the Government troops, tried by court-martial, and sentenced
to durance vile in the deep dungeons of some ancient fortress. Their
sympathies for me had risen to enthusiasm or were lowered to zero,
according to the rumours of the day, but they were all glad to see me
back. Still they pitied me indeed, as they wondered amongst themselves
what my fate was now to be.
The preliminary investigation into my disorderly conduct took place
before the Colonel Commanding, and I was then remanded to be dealt with
by the Governor. I was duly marched in to his august presence, under
armed escort, and, after having had the charge of being absent without
leave duly read to me, I was called upon by him to make any statement I
wished with reference to my conduct.
As I have already said, I had learnt English only after I was thirteen
years of age, and on joining at Woolwich I still spoke English with a
considerable foreign accent, which perhaps had become more marked during
my recent protracted visit to Don Carlos and his Army. I have always
noticed that when one gets excited a foreign accent becomes more
accentuated. It undoubtedly did on this occasion, especially when I
endeavoured to give a description of some of the fighting in the course
of my statement. I even ventured to ask that I might be given a piece of
paper and a pencil to jot down the dispositions of the opposing forces
which took part in one of our biggest fights. I had barely made the
request when the Governor stopped me and said: "Do you mean to tell me
that you have picked up a foreign accent like this during the short time
that you have been in Spain?" "Oh, no, sir, I have always had it. I mean,
I've had it ever since I learnt English."
Sir Lintorn looked serious when I said this. A smile flitted across the
countenances of the Colonel Commanding and the Adjutant--and even of the
escort. "When did you learn English--and where? And where do you come
from?" "I learnt English," I answered, "about five years ago at the
Oratory at Edgbaston, Birmingham, and I spoke Spanish before that." "What
countryman are you, then?" "Well," I said, "my father is Scotch, my
mother is Irish, and I was born in Spain. I'm not quite sure what I am."
This time the smile turned into suppressed laughter. General Simmons
looked at me for a short instant. Then he, too, smiled and said, "Well, I
am going to let you off. You must take your chance of getting through
your examination, considering the time you've lost. I let you off because
I feel that the experiences you have gained may be of good value to you."
Turning to the Adjutant he said, "March the prisoner out and release him.
Tear up his crime sheet."
I forget now the wonderful escapes from tight corners in the field, the
glowing descriptions of the valour of the Carlists, the number of times
that Staff Officers had asked for my advice as to the conduct of the war,
and the many other extraordinary tarradiddles that I poured, night after
night, into the willing ears of my astounded and bewildered fellow
cadets. One curiosity, however, may be mentioned. Amongst the most
energetic of Don Carlos's officers was his sister, Princess Mercedes, who
personally commanded a cavalry regiment for some considerable time during
the war.
The rest of my stay at Woolwich was uneventful. I _did_ manage to get
through the examination at the end of the term, but this was chiefly
owing to the generous help of those cadets in my term who personally
coached me in such subjects as I had missed. A year afterwards, at the
end of the fourth term, the Royal Regiment of Artillery was short of
officers. The numbers of cadets in the A Division leaving the "Shop" was
not sufficient to fill the vacancies. Some eight extra commissions were
offered to the fourth term cadets who were willing to forgo their
opportunities of qualifying for the Royal Engineers by remaining for
another term. A gunner was good enough for me, and I was duly gazetted to
the regiment.
I am just here reminded of an incident which took place on the day on
which His Royal Highness the Duke of Cambridge attended the Academy to
bestow the commissions and present the prizes on the breaking-up day. The
Prince Imperial of France had been a cadet with us. On that particular
occasion he was presented with the prize for equitation, of which he was
very proud. He was a good sport. He was very keen on fencing, but he had
been taught on the French lines, and, as the French system was different
from our English system he did not enter his name for the fencing prize.
But he said that he _would_ like to have a go with the foils against the
winner of the prize. I had happened to win it. The little encounter was
arranged as an interlude in the athletic exhibition forming part of the
day's function. We masked. We met. I was just starting to do the
ceremonial fencing salute which generally preceded the actual
hostilities, when he came to the engage, lunged, and had it not been for
the button of the enemy's foil and my leather jacket, there would have
been short shrift for J. M. G. He quickly called "One to me." Then I
quickly lunged, got home, and called out, "One to me." Next instant we
both lunged again, with equal results. We would have finished each
other's earthly career if there had been no buttons and no leather
jackets. The referee sharply called "Dead heat. All over." We shook hands
in the usual amicable way and had a good laugh over the bout.
We parted on that occasion on our different roads in life--he shortly
afterwards to meet his untimely end in the wilds of South Africa. Later
on I remember attending his funeral. His death was indeed a sad blow to
his mother, the Empress Eugenie, whose hopes had been centred on him her
only son. I well remember, as a youngster, when visiting Madrid with my
mother, looking forward to be taken to see her mother, the Countess of
Montijo, who, with my grandmother, had been lady-in-waiting to Her
Majesty Queen Christina.
Just lately I was at Jerez again, when the ex-Empress Eugenie motored
from Gibraltar to Seville, accompanied by her nephew the Duke of Alba.
They stopped for luncheon at the Hotel Cisnes. I had the honour of a
conversation with her. Her brightness and her memory were quite
unimpaired though in her ninety-fifth year. She recollected the incident
of the fencing bout at which she had been present. Now she has passed
away to her rest.
Gazetted Lieutenant, Royal Artillery, March, 1876, I was ordered to join
at the Royal Artillery Barracks, Woolwich, in April.