To the Bitter End: Paraguay and the War of the Triple Alliance (Contributions in Military Studies)

TO THE BITTER END

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TO THE BITTER END Paraguay and the War of the Triple Alliance

Chris Leuchars

Contributions in Military Studies, Number 223

Greenwood Press Westport, Connecticut • London

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Leuchars, Chris, 1956To the bitter end: Paraguay and the War of the Triple Alliance / Chris Leuchars. p. cm. — (Contributions in military studies, ISSN 0883-6884; no. 223) Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 0-313-32365-8 (alk. paper) 1. Paraguayan War, 1865-1870. I. Title. II. Series. F2687.L545 2002 989.2'05—dc21 2002069640 British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data is available. Copyright © 2002 by Chris Leuchars All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, by any process or technique, without the express written consent of the publisher. Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 2002069640 ISBN: 0-313-32365-8 ISSN: 0883-6884 First published in 2002 Greenwood Press, 88 Post Road West, Westport, CT 06881 An imprint of Greenwood Publishing Group, Inc. w w w. greenwood.com Printed in the United States of America

The paper used in this book complies with the Permanent Paper Standard issued by the National Information Standards Organization (Z39.48-1984). 10

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Contents

maps

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1

The Country at the Heart of the Continent

2

The Man Who Would Be King

10

3

The Other Players in the Drama

15

4

Political Relations in the Plate Region

22

5

The Invasion of Brazil: September to December 1864

31

6

The Triple Alliance

38

7

The Military Balance

47

8

Conscripts and Volunteers: May to June 1865

54

9

The Invasion of Argentina: June 1865

60

10

The Rio Grande Campaign: June to September 1865

71

11

The March to War: September to December 1865

85

1

vi

Contents

12

The Invasion of Paraguay: January to April 1866

90

13

Conflict in the Esteros: April to May 1866

109

14

The Battle of Tuyuty: May 1866

117

15

The Funnel of Death: July 1866

129

16

The Attack on Curupaity: September 1866

140

17

The Long Pause: September 1866 to August 1867

155

18

The Fall of Humaita: September 1867 to August 1868

169

19

The December Campaign: December 1868

191

20

Endgame: January 1869 to March 1870

213

Conclusion: Securing the Spoils

233

Notes

239

Selected Bibliography

245

Index

249

Maps

South America

4

River Plate Region, 1860s

5

Invasion of Mato Grosso, December 1864

35

Paraguayan invasions, May-December 1865

63

Battle of Riachuelo, 11 June 1865

67

Battle of Yatay, 17 August 1865

79

Paso de la Patria, December 1865-April 1866

97

Battle of Estero Bellaco, 2 May 1866

115

Battle of Tuyuty, 24 May 1866

125

Battle of Sauce, 16-18 July 1866

135

Battle of Curupaity, 22 September 1866

151

Operations around Humaita, 1866-1868

171

Piquisiri Campaign, December 1868

193

Battle of Ytororo, 6 December 1868

197

Battle of Avahy, 11 December 1868

202

Battle of Ita Ivate, 21 -27 December 1868

206

Cordilleras Campaign, January 1869-March 1870

217

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1 The Country at the Heart of the Continent

The Italian explorer, Sebastian Cabot, was perhaps the first outsider to set eyes on that land of swamp and jungle, subsequently the scene of so much bloodshed, that lay between two of the great rivers that fed into the Plate. He was also the first to come across the region's fearsome inhabitants and was probably fortunate to escape the encounter with the loss of only half of his companions. So brief was his stay that he discovered little more than the name of the river down which he had fled, and which the Indians referred to as "the river that flows to the sea" or, in their tongue, "Paraguay." His experience had been humiliating, but it was portentous too, for three centuries later this land of Paraguay was equally mysterious to those who did not reside there, and its people still proud and suspicious. Indeed, its geographical position, tucked away in the heart of the continent, difficult of access and stifled by its oversized neighbors, together with its bizarre and exploited history, had created a people whose development and character were notably different from those around them. By the first half of the nineteenth century, this history seemed to be relentlessly downwardly mobile, for since the Spanish conquest the country had assumed a number of different, progressively less distinguished identities. From the 1530s it had been part of a huge province, designated "Provincia Gigante de Los Indios," comprising its present borders, together with those of Uruguay, eastern Bolivia, and most of Argentina. But in 1542 it was brought under the jurisdiction of the Viceroyalty of Peru and divided into two governorships: that of the River Plate, with its headquarters in Buenos Aires, and Guaira, based in Asuncion.

2

To the Bitter End

This is perhaps where the problems that were to lead to war began, for Guaira had no outlet to the sea. It was thus dependent on Buenos Aires, which exploited this situation by imposing taxes on goods shipped to Asuncion. In 1776 things grew worse when the two governorships were combined into a new Viceroyalty of the Plate, centered on Buenos Aires. Argentine superiority, and Paraguayan resentment of it, were therefore fixed by law, and when the independence struggles began, it was only logical that the former should want to maintain this colonial structure and the latter to break it. The administration of the colonial system—a strange mixture of legal formality and inspired pragmatism—added to Paraguay's sense of injustice. Technically, the running of the empire was in the hands of the Spanish government, but due to the great distances and the acknowledgment that people on the ground often had a better understanding of the situation, local administrations were given a considerable amount of authority. This meant that the system was not always run equitably, and some parts of the empire could become more prosperous than others. No effort was made to prevent Buenos Aires from dominating Asuncion, and thereafter the situation was allowed to fester. Likewise, little attention was paid to the precise boundaries between the different administrations, which mattered little while they were all under the sovereignty of Spain, but such unresolved borders were to cause major problems after independence. The invasion of Spain by France in 1808 produced turmoil in its American empire. Some colonists were prepared to accept the new government of Napoleon's brother, Joseph, while others remained faithful to the Bourbon King of Spain. Others, among them the merchants of Buenos Aires, wanted complete independence. Since the existing structure was the Viceroyalty of the River Plate, the latter naturally assumed that Paraguay would form part of their new country, and they therefore requested the support of the citizens of Asuncion. These called an assembly and, deciding that they wanted to break with the years of subjugation, declared their separation from the viceroyalty. When Buenos Aires sent an army under General Belgrano, it was soundly defeated by the Paraguayans at the battles of Paraguary and Tacuary in early 1811. In Asuncion, the former royal governor was obliged to give way to a junta headed by a Captain Yegros and including a Creole lawyer, Jose Gaspar Rodriguez de Francia. In 1813, a congress decided that Paraguay should be a republic, with the government in the hands of these two men, and that the break with Buenos Aires should be definitive. Within a few months, however, Francia had made himself sole ruler of Paraguay, a fact that was further confirmed by a congress in October 1814. So began one of the most extraordinary periods of personal rule in the history of the continent, and one that was to play an important role in shaping the national character. Francia quickly obtained a degree of power that no Spanish king, or viceroy, had ever exercised. With cunning and ruthlessness and minute attention to detail, he succeeded for the next 30 years in being the absolute dictator of his country.

The Country at the Heart of the Continent

3

Francia had a realistic idea of what he wanted and how to get it. As a Creole— one who had been born in South America—he had a natural dislike for the Spanish aristocracy, and he feared that from their positions of power they could be a threat to his position. He was right, but he was clever and ruthless enough to meet the danger. The plot that he uncovered in 1820 may have been a genuine attempt to usurp him, or he may have exaggerated it deliberately, but in any case it gave him the excuse to wipe out most of the aristocracy and many of his fellow Creoles. Already he had placed the Spanish residents of Asuncion under observation and had forcibly exiled others, and now he had the opportunity, in the interests of the state, to dispense with them completely. Yegros was executed by firing squad, as were many of the main plotters, in the Paraguayan way, sitting on a bench against a wall. Many others were imprisoned, some simply rotting away in jail while others, more fortunate, were sent into the interior in a form of internal exile. The cruelty was deliberate: Francia was never threatened from inside the country again. His second aim was both personal and patriotic. Well aware of the threat from outside, particularly from Buenos Aires, and later from the newly independent Brazil, he decided that the best form of protection was to close the country completely. Taking advantage of Paraguay's natural situation, he simply prohibited all river traffic, so that there was no means of entry or egress, apart from the one port of Encarnacion, which he could easily monitor. Under this regime Paraguay stagnated and almost all intercourse with the outside world ceased. The economy became one of subsistence rather than profit, and to control this more closely, Francia created monopolies in the purchase of tobacco, sugar, and mate—a type of tea—and, in 1824, he took over all church property. This ensured that profits would go to the state rather than to individuals, which had the corollary of preventing the Creole class becoming richer. Within the country, Francia encouraged primary education, with the result that the majority of the people, including the indigenous Guarani, were literate—a rarity in those days—but access to secondary schooling or universities was denied, so that none could become qualified enough to pose a threat to his position. He also improved the look of Asuncion by straightening out the tangled roads, encouraging the construction of new buildings, and trying to improve the chaotic drainage system of the city. For better or worse, he devoted every ounce of his considerable energy to the running of the country, but when he died, he left a nation that was shorn of intellectual and administrative talent and one that was unusually suspicious and inward-looking. He was succeeded by Carlos Antonio Lopez, a man whose personal habits and appearance delighted the Buenos Aires press, ever ready to pour scorn on the backward leader of the savage interior that they still felt belonged to them. Overly corpulent, with heavy facial features and permanently wearing a top hat—which he never seemed to remove, neither at the opera nor when receiving foreign guests, for, as he once argued, Queen Victoria always wore her crown in public—he was irascible and petty and described by the British minister as

South America

4

River Plate Region, 1860s

5

6

To the Bitter End

having an "uncontrolled will and capricious authority."1 He was from a middleclass background but had married into the family of a rich landowner and thus had links with what remained of the two important classes of Paraguayan society. To Francia's two aims Lopez added a third: enrichment for himself and his family. He regarded Paraguay as his personal property and the national exchequer as his private bank. While some surviving aristocrats and Creoles were released from prison and had their lands and goods restored, throughout his rule he managed to acquire more land and more of a controlling interest for the state, which he took to mean himself. His wife, Juana Pabla, was given the right to purchase all cattle entering Asuncion at a fixed price and then sell them in the market for a profit, while his daughters were reputed to buy up used banknotes at a discount and then sell them back to the national bank at face value. His son, Francisco, was named a general and minister of war, despite having no military experience; another son, Venancio, became an admiral, notwithstanding the lack of a fleet or even a sea to sail it on, and his brother Basilio was made Bishop of Paraguay. Heavy taxes—36% on exports and 25% on imports, as well as 1015% on stamped paper (necessary for all legal transactions)—all went to the president, thus providing at least one incentive for opening up the country to foreign trade. Lopez was determined to maintain his control over the Paraguayan population. The country was divided into military districts, and the chief administrator of each was an army officer. Internal travel was not permitted without documentation, and foreigners had to acquire written permission before leaving the capital. Priests, it was rumored, were required to inform the government of what they heard in the confessional. Unlike Francia, Lopez did at least delegate some of his duties, and secretaries of war, finance, and foreign affairs were created, though as the former was his own son, Francisco, and as the president himself was known to dictate all the dispatches of the other two, this was hardly a significant devolution of power. People could be moved to populate different areas of the country at the whim of the government or could be forced into the army. "Murder," wrote the English doctor, George Masterman, "like yerba mate, was almost a monopoly of the government,"2 though fortunately Lopez was more interested in taking people's goods and land than their lives. In the light of all this it might be deduced that the Paraguayans were a subjugated and miserable race. Ironically, this would seem to have been very far from the truth, for, untroubled by conflict, subsisting easily on their fertile plots, strangers to famine or natural disaster, they lived an uncomplicated and pleasantly indolent existence. Even the British minister, Henderson, completely exasperated with the government, admitted that the Paraguayans were satisfied with their lot, while other observers went further. George Thompson, a railroad engineer, referred to the mass of people as being perhaps the happiest in existence, and Masterman and the United States minister, Charles Washburn, painted a picture of ordinary Paraguayans living in an almost elysian idyll.

The Country at the Heart of the Continent

7

Foreign observers were also surprised at the degree of equality in Paraguayan society, which was due principally to the accidents of its history. Thanks to the work of the Jesuit missionaries in the eighteenth century, the Guarani had become educated and skilled, while the politics of Francia had ensured the virtual disappearance of the aristocrats and the reduction in status of the middle-class Creoles. One of the main signs of this equality was that while the official language was Spanish, which was used in business and official transactions, almost everyone, from the president downwards, spoke Guarani. This not only ensured the separateness of Paraguay from other South American countries, but also gave more credibility and status to the main ethnic group. In this way society was more unified and cohesive than elsewhere on the continent. Furthermore, Lopez was genuinely concerned to raise the standard of living and expectations of all his people. In 1842 he made a decree abolishing slavery, thus showing himself more enlightened than many of the rulers of the age, and in his first year he opened over 400 rural schools. He also tried to continue Francia's attempts to improve the state of the capital, and he employed foreign architects such as Ravizza and Alonso Taylor from Europe. In 1858, recognizing the need for technological and academic advancement and realizing that there was no scope for meeting this within the country, he sent 16 students on an extended trip to Europe to study languages, law, and technological subjects. Alongside this, he began the Technical Development Program in 1853 and sent his son, Francisco Solano, to Europe to try to persuade engineers, technicians, and boat builders, among others, to come to Paraguay to lay the basis for industrial development. Henry Godwin arrived from Britain in 1849 to start an iron foundry at Ybicuy, with the first cannon cast in 1862, and, in 1855, William Whytehead arrived to take charge of the shipyard at Asuncion, which succeeded in turning out seven river steamers by 1870. Whytehead was a great friend and duck-shooting partner of George Thompson, who came to Paraguay to build the railway. Thompson was to play a major part as an officer in the Paraguayan army during the coming war and, in the opinion of many, was responsible for its prolonged resistance. The railway, which was designed initially to bring tobacco and mate from the interior to the port of Asuncion, was one of the first in South America and ran for 72 miles. In 1861, amid great excitement, the first branch to Santissima Trinidad was opened. Such was the enthusiasm of the drivers, however, that on reaching their destination they failed to notice that the line had stopped and carried on driving through the fields, waving happily to the crowds, before being alerted to their predicament by the unusually bumpy nature of the ride. The railway was to play a significant military role in the closing stages of the war. Another part of this program, which has been given a higher significance than was intended at the time, was the acquiring of military experts and equipment. Lopez's choice was eclectic. He brought in gunnery instructors from Brazil and Britain, and he acquired from the Austrian Empire an elderly roue, Colonel Wisner de Morgenstern, to help train the army. In 1856, the British minister

8

To the Bitter End

referred to a considerable amount of war supplies that had recently arrived, and the building by Treuenfeldt of the telegraph from Asuncion to Paso de la Patria, a distance of some 270 miles, was also taken by some to indicate military ambitions. While there is no evidence that Lopez was intending to do more than equip his country with a defensive capability, such improvements did cause unease among his neighbors and did bestow on his successor the opportunity for more aggressive behavior. Perhaps the major success of the program, though, was the introduction of British doctors, the first of whom arrived in 1857. George Barton became head physician to the Lopez family and even godfather to Francisco's son, Federico. William Stewart, who had been a military surgeon at Scutari during the Crimean War, was appointed surgeon in Paraguay at the age of 26 and went on to become head of the Paraguayan army medical service, as well as a friend of the Lopez family and a special confidant of Eliza Lynch, Solano Lopez's mistress. He brought a knowledge of cleanliness from his experiences with Florence Nightingale, and he introduced baths with hot running water in the hospital in Asuncion. He also built hospitals at military bases in Humaita and Cerro Leon, and from 1857, due to his efforts, medical textbooks began entering the country, which enabled a proper course of medicine to be started. In the 1860s he began a mass vaccination campaign against smallpox. He was assisted by Frederick Skinner, who became personal physician to Francisco Solano, and by George Masterman, a chemist, who became chief apothecary to the army. The influx of foreigners was in many ways a breath of fresh air into the staid society of Asuncion; however, relations with the government did not always run smoothly. The Paraguayans had been taught throughout the centuries to "regard foreigner and enemy as synonymous,"3 and the xenophobic attitudes encouraged by Francia had only increased this. Lopez, in particular, remained suspicious, and on one occasion he declared that he was determined to put down the "insolence of foreigners."4 Nor was he concerned about the opinions of other countries. Thompson noted the words of the police instructions of 1843, advising all foreigners and refugees that "we wish here to know nothing of your disastrous hatreds and rancours, and those who do not like it may retire at once from the country."5 Masterman was surprised to learn that the Paraguayans saw him not as someone who had come to help their country, but as one who had heard of Paraguay's great reputation and thus had come so far to enjoy the benefits of life there. The effect of the Paraguayan character on Europeans was mixed. The French minister, Laurent-Coehelet, saw them as "sweet and inoffensive,"6 but Masterman and Burton both noticed that in financial transactions they were often dishonest and that stealing was common, although more serious crimes were rare. Their bravery and stoicism, however, were extraordinary; long before the war the British minister had noted that the Paraguayans were like lions, and he predicted that if a war were to occur, the enemy would triumph over a ruined and depopulated country and the lifeless bodies of its inhabitants.

The Country at the Heart of the Continent

9

At best, this was courage, but it also bordered on fanaticism. Some of the blame for this can perhaps be attributed to the lesson that all Paraguayans were taught in school, namely the Catechism of San Alberto. This alarming credo taught how rulers must be respected without question, and how a vassal must submit to punishment by making it easier for his master—for example, by mounting the scaffold to be hanged without protest and willingly baring his throat to the ax. It was obviously in the interests of Paraguayan rulers, from the Jesuits onwards, to ensure obedience, and this might help to explain why Paraguayans seemed to adhere so faithfully to governments that would elsewhere be regarded as intolerable. Yet Lopez ruled over a basically happy country. Some historians have even regarded his period of office as being a golden age, which may give some idea of the tragedies that have afflicted Paraguay throughout the rest of its history. Certainly, under him there was peace and progress, as well as some degree of economic advancement, although political activity was minimal. Lopez was an absolute dictator—selfish, corrupt, willful, and mainly concerned with extending his own fortunes—yet he did bring benefits to the people. In the Almanac de Gotha, Paraguay was listed as the only country in the world with no public debt. How much importance the historian should attach to the psychology of a nation and how much the actions of that nation should be attributable to that psychology is debatable. There were, however, some elements of the Paraguayan character already noted that could help to explain the nature of subsequent events. Suspicion, if not hatred, of foreigners, blind obedience to their leader, and an almost fanatical devotion to whatever principles he taught them were characteristics of the Paraguayans. These, by themselves, hardly suggest that a war was inevitable, but they were singular aspects, and they point to Paraguay being a potentially unstable and dangerous factor, particularly if the government should fall into the hands of one less wise than his predecessors.

2 The Man Who Would Be King

Francisco Solano Lopez succeeded to the presidency of Paraguay on the death of his father in September 1862. Not surprisingly, given his undoubtedly dramatic impact on the history of his country, he has provoked extremes of hatred and adulation, making it difficult for historians to find the truth about the man. Novelists and polemicists have distorted his character to the extent that we can rely on little more than the bare bones of his physical appearance and what we can deduce from his actions. Anecdotes from those who knew him, which might reveal more about his true personality, are tantalizingly few and generally unreliable. Those expecting to find the savage beast of popular legend may have been disappointed on first meeting the new president. His appearance was unexceptional. He was short—approximately five feet, four inches tall—and stout, becoming increasingly corpulent, like his father, as time wore on and his appetite for good food and wine increased. Due to the long hours that he spent in the saddle, in which he was extremely proficient, he was bow-legged, and therefore walked with a slightly comical gait. He was heavy-faced and jowly, with sideburns and mustache and beard, as was common at that time, and bad teeth and bad breath, perhaps from too many cigars. His complexion was dark, indicating Guarani blood, of which he was proud, and he had small hands and feet and, according to one witness, a small head, which protruded slightly more than usual at the back. Many considered that his manner was agreeable and his conversation fluent and cultured and that he carried himself with elegance and poise. Other accounts of his personality depict a sensual playboy, concerned more with self-gratification than with the progress of his country. If only—Paraguay

The Man Who Would Be King

11

might have benefited greatly from someone who was more interested in personal pleasures and who might have left the country alone, to develop in its own way. Unfortunately, Solano Lopez was not an irresponsible young man but one who was filled with an overwhelming sense of duty, and it was this that gave him that profound sense of self-importance and of destiny, which Washburn described as a "fixity of purpose bordering on stupidity."1 Others, however, saw it as a more positive trait and noted his "wonderful energy and indomitable will."2 Undoubtedly it led to his sincere belief that the fortunes of the country were indistinguishable from his own. As a man, he was unremarkable, but what set him apart was the position in which he found himself. For Solano Lopez was born to rule Paraguay. His father had regarded the country as his property, and his son was groomed to inherit it. This gave him a sense of power and importance, which made him callous toward the fate of others, whom he saw as mere instruments of his will, and often heedless of the human consequences of his actions. He did not expect to be criticized or opposed; indeed, he was used to respect and flattery, and while in Paraguay he could rely on positive reactions toward him, when those abroad lampooned him, as they were free to do, he took exaggerated personal offense, and his behavior became unpredictable. He was born on 24 July 1826, in the same year in which his parents were married. In fact, so close were these two events that gossips suggested that he was not the son of Carlos Antonio at all, but of an illicit liaison of his mother's. Whatever the truth of this, it may explain the subsequent treatment he meted out to members of his family. He had two brothers, Venancio and Benigno, and two sisters, Rafaella and Inocencia. He was educated at the Juan Pedro Escalada school in Asuncion, where he showed some aptitude, though little interest in learning. His ignorance would always be a notable feature of his behavior and would color his dealings with others. Little else is known about his early life, but in 1845 he was given the rank of general, despite not yet being 20 years old, and put in charge of an army of 5,000 men, with orders to join with the Argentine province of Corrientes, which was in open revolt against the dictator, Rosas. Before he could link up with the Correntinos, they were defeated, and he had to retire back to Paraguay. No shots had been fired in anger—though apparently the general was not averse to shooting his own men for infractions of military discipline—but the expedition gave him a limited amount of fame and a taste for bloodless warfare, and also it aroused in him an "overweening opinion of his military talent,"3 which would later prove fatal. In 1853, Carlos Antonio Lopez decided to dispatch his son on a tour of European countries. Ostensibly, the purpose was to recruit colonists and foreign technicians for the development program and also to make Paraguay better known abroad. Solano Lopez was to visit those capitals with which Paraguay had recently established diplomatic relations, namely London, Paris, and Turin. Lopez may have wanted his headstrong son out of the country, though he was

12

To the Bitter End

also grooming him to take over the presidency. At any rate, the trip was to be of great significance for the future dictator. In some ways, the journey was a success. In Britain, he bought a small warship, the Tacuary, and was received by Queen Victoria both at Osborne and at Windsor. In Paris he was presented at the court of Napoleon III and then journeyed to the Crimea to witness the siege of Sebastopol. A photograph from the time shows him standing next to the emperor, dressed in full military uniform, reviewing French troops. He is surrounded by French generals and pointing into the distance, and in several Paraguayan histories the captions erroneously declare that he is directing the maneuvers. It would have been surprising if such recognition had not gone to his head. The consequences of this excursion were not great for Europe, but probably enormous for Paraguay. Those who have attempted to understand the psychology of Solano Lopez have pointed to the visit as being an inspiration for his future policy. The meeting with the nephew of Napoleon Bonaparte and the sight of the European armies in action possibly whetted his appetite for similar exploits in South America. It has become a truism that he wished to model himself on the great Napoleon and create an empire in the Plate region through his military exploits. Although the concrete evidence for this is minimal, Thompson did mention it at the time, as did Masterman, and Washburn claimed that the president even told him that this was his intention. Lopez's subsequent behavior does not strongly suggest that this was a motive, but the actions of Napoleon III in France at least show that a "Napoleon complex" was not an uncommon psychosis at the time. He returned at the beginning of 1855 on board the new warship, together with a new mistress, Eliza Lynch, a 20-year-old married Irishwoman. Eliza was already heavily pregnant and chose to stop off in Buenos Aires to give birth to their first son, Francisco, generally known as Pancho, or Panchito. It can hardly be imagined what her feelings were as, a few weeks later, she sailed up the Paraguay River and entered the port of Asuncion. Her first meeting with the Lopez family was not a success, for she was pointedly ignored, and for some time Carlos Antonio would not even speak to her. She had little option but to persist, and gradually, when it was clear that the relationship was a permanent one, and particularly when Solano Lopez became president and it was dangerous to offend him, she became tolerated, if not accepted. She set up her home on a large estate, Patino Cue, which she had specially built a few miles outside Asuncion and to which she invited an increasing number of guests. She filled the house with European furniture and paintings and surrounded herself with favorites—initially foreigners such as Colonel Wisner, and the Englishmen, Whytehead and Thompson, but later Paraguayan society ladies such as Juana Ynsfran de Martinez. For the foreign community, Patino Cue was one of the few places where intelligent and amusing conversation could be had, and Madam Lynch's whist drives became a notable feature of the social scene.

The Man Who Would Be King

13

She bore him six sons and a daughter who died very young. Lopez adored his children and, in rearing them, she undoubtedly gave him a source of pride, as well as familial support and affection, which his lonely position did not otherwise attract. Apart from one occasion, when he embarked on a hare-brained scheme to contract a diplomatic marriage with the daughter of Pedro II of Brazil, they both appear to have stayed loyal to each other, and she was to remain by his side until the end, cheerfully putting up with all the discomforts and dangers of military life. Her reputation in history, and at the time, was a mixed one, however. Thompson, in his memoirs, barely referred to her, describing her simply as "the Irish lady,"4 but, then, he was eager to distance himself from the regime. In the early days, when Juan Centurion—one of the students sent abroad by Carlos Antonio—returned from Europe, a naval friend told him to watch out for Eliza and described her as the " grandissima puta,} (great whore).5 Argentine propaganda suggested that she was the femme fatale who pushed Lopez into the war, and certainly it would be intriguing to know the extent of her influence upon him. Josefina Pla, one of the more objective Paraguayan historians, points to the positive way that she changed Paraguayan life by introducing European customs—of goods, dress, and simply a greater knowledge of the outside world. Centurion and Taylor both averred that subsequently she was directly responsible for saving their lives, but Washburn, who fell out with her, portrayed her as a more sinister figure, who tried to trap him into acting against Lopez. Solano Lopez was rewarded upon his return from Europe by being made minister of war, and thereafter he was to play an increasingly important role in the government of the country. In 1855 he was given the task of acting as chief negotiator with Brazil over the question of boundaries, and since the Brazilians had arrived in Paraguay with a naval squadron, apparently intent on using armed force, the fact that they went home without recourse to war and empty-handed since Paraguay was to concede none of their demands suggests that he might have been a tenacious diplomat. This could also be seen in his handling of the dispute in the Argentine Confederation between Urquiza and Rosas in 1859. He was called upon as a mediator, succeeded in averting bloodshed, and was feted in Buenos Aires for his successful handling of the crisis. The enthusiasm with which he was greeted by a people who, within a decade, would be baying for his blood may well have given him a taste for the limelight and an understanding that if he was to repeat the experience, Paraguay alone would be a poor stage for his talents. In any case, he was soon to be given his chance. In September 1862, Carlos Antonio Lopez died, and his son moved quickly into action. It is not clear whether he had been designated successor by his father, for some writers suggest that the politics of Benigno were more to the liking of the old man, but the decisiveness and determination, not to mention ruthlessness, with which he acted were to dispel any thoughts of an alternative and give Paraguayans an indication of the way things were to be in the future.

14

To the Bitter End

As minister of war, he had control over the armed forces, and he had taken pains to ingratiate himself with the presidential escort, which he now used as his praetorian guard. There was no legal justification for his assumption of control, and his actions were no more than a coup d'etat. He insisted on a rapid funeral— his father was buried the next day—and he ordered that all citizens of Asuncion should attend the cortege. He also demanded a sum of money—some $5—from each of the inhabitants of the capital, including foreign dignitaries, ostensibly to prepare a memorial for his father, though the money was never seen again, and no monument was ever raised. The next step was to legalize his position, and he went about this with similar speed and resolve. A congress was called, and Lopez ensured that the delegates were selected according to a rigorous process that favored his supporters. He also took the opportunity to arrest any potential opponents, including his brother, Benigno. The former were imprisoned without trial, while his brother was fortunate, at least for the time being, in merely being exiled to the interior. There was no further opposition to his takeover. For his government, Lopez appointed a vice president, Francisco Sanchez, an old man who had somehow survived Francia's time and who simply echoed whatever the president commanded. His brother, Venancio, was made minister of war, and one of the few educated men in Paraguay, Jose Berges, became minister of foreign affairs. In practice, as had been the case with his predecessors, Lopez ruled the country absolutely. To show his contempt for the Church, he appointed a poorly educated and weak-willed priest, Manuel Palacios, as Bishop of Paraguay. Palacios was noteworthy for his ludicrous servility, which made him the butt of Lopez's humor, and for his ignorance of religious matters. He shared Lopez's table, but more as a lapdog than as a guest. On Lopez's birthday, and on the anniversary of his election, huge celebrations were ordered to take place all over the country, with dances, banquets, balls, bullfights, and other public entertainments. By 1864, Paraguay was firmly under the thumb of an autocratic and absolute ruler, and its people, albeit unified and content, were ignorant, docile, obedient, and xenophobic. The future, like the mind of Lopez, was completely unpredictable, but what was clear was that wherever he went, Paraguay would follow.

3 The Other Players in the Drama

While the outbreak of war sometimes takes people by surprise, the roots of any conflict can, on closer examination, be seen to burrow deep into the history of the countries and of the people that provoke them. Just as an examination of Paraguay's past reveals the development of a situation in which such a conflict could occur, so the clues can also be spotted within the other countries of the region. Argentina then was not the unified state that we know today. In fact, for the first 50 years of its existence, it was unsure even of its name, and the title "Argentina" did not properly apply until 1862. Independence had left it no firm boundaries and no accepted method of administration, and thus it had to begin almost from scratch. From the start the country could be divided into two distinct parts. The city of Buenos Aires, backed by its provincial hinterland, was the main port of the continent and the center of wealth, influence, European culture, and new ideas. Elsewhere was the interior, divided into provinces—some the domain of uncivilized Indian tribes—many of which were eager for autonomy and were jealous of Buenos Aires and its power. The first half-century of independence was dominated by the struggle for the creation of institutions and a method of government that would be acceptable to all. The period was one of violence and turmoil that was very different from the stability enjoyed in Paraguay. In 1810, the junta of Buenos Aires, in view of the collapse of Spanish authority, nominated itself the successor government to the Viceroyalty of the River Plate but then had to put up with the defections of Paraguay and Uruguay. As has been seen, the expedition to conquer Asuncion failed; the one sent to Montevideo was defeated by the Portuguese from Brazil,

16

To the Bitter End

who in turn were forced to withdraw by the British Navy. Two provinces of the future Argentina, Santa Fe and Corrientes, also declared their wish to be independent. This set the scene for two different ideologies, whose struggle dogged the early history of the country. The unitarists, led by Belgrano and Rivadavia, wanted Buenos Aires to be capital of a unified state, with provinces subordinate to the government of the metropolis, while opposing them were the federalists, who supported autonomy for the provinces within a confederation of equal parts. In 1813, a congress was called in Buenos Aires, which decided on a centralized solution and set up the United Provinces of the River Plate, although, in lip service to the federalists, it allowed some provinces self-government. Several provinces promptly seceded from the new organization, and in 1820 their combined army beat the forces of Buenos Aires at Cepeda and obliged it to accept a federal constitution. Buenos Aires retaliated by blocking traffic using the Parana River, but in 1826 Rivadavia was forced to accept a compromise constitution, which declared the Argentine Confederation a federal state but with considerable power given to the president over provincial governments. This, however, was not accepted by the provincial leaders, nor by an increasingly powerful group in Buenos Aires itself, which, believing that the provinces hindered the development of their city and resenting the fact that they would have to support them financially, actually favored a federal system themselves. This group was headed by Rosas, who became dictator of Buenos Aires, and effectively of the whole country, for most of the period between 1829 and 1852. His was a brutal reign in which he asserted the ideals of federalism while seeking to make Buenos Aires the dominant partner in the Confederation. Rosas was the first leader who really controlled the country, and he made considerable headway in pushing back the frontiers against the Indian tribes and populating the interior, particularly of his own province. He also raised the ire of European powers for his interference in Uruguay and had to repel military force from both Britain and France. Upset at the growing power of Buenos Aires to their disadvantage, the provinces found a new champion in Urquiza, governor of Entre Rios, though he, surprisingly, turned out to be a centralist himself. In 1852 he defeated Rosas at Caseros, and by the San Nicolas Accord set up a strong central government, abolishing internal restrictions on trade and creating the city of Buenos Aires as a federal district. All the provinces, except Buenos Aires, grudgingly accepted this, and, in 1854, Urquiza became president of the Argentine Confederation. Buenos Aires promptly declared itself independent and even secured recognition from Britain. This state of affairs lasted for six years, during which the city and province prospered. However, by 1859, realizing that the Confederation needed the metropolis, Urquiza invaded and defeated it at the second Battle of Cepeda. Despite his victory, Urquiza's control over Buenos Aires was largely nominal and became even more so when Bartolome Mitre assumed power in March 1860 as governor of the province. Mitre was an old-fashioned unitarist who saw

The Other Players in the Drama

17

Buenos Aires as the capital of a united nation. After a series of revolts by his supporters against Urquiza, the latter invaded the province again in 1861 but was defeated at the battle of Pavon. In 1862, Mitre was elected first president of the Argentine Republic, with a constitution that conceded a federal status to the provinces but kept overall control in the hands of the president, with Buenos Aires as capital. Helped by an economic boom, Mitre immediately set about developing a unified system of government, but peace was not guaranteed, and throughout the next three decades there would be challenges to his system. Mitre was one of the most colorful and significant figures in the history of both his own country and the region as a whole. Soldier, statesman, poet, and writer, he had been a close friend of Garibaldi and had experienced prolonged periods of exile for his opposition to Rosas, during which he had traveled widely and imbibed and spread ideas of liberalism. His coming to power represented a new dynamic in the politics of the region, in which his beliefs would be spread both inside Argentina and beyond. He, far more than Lopez, represented a threat to the established balance of power, and it was no accident that the revival of civil strife in Uruguay under Flores, his erstwhile companion in arms, should have so closely followed his own accession. Yet Mitre's position was far from secure, and it could not be so until he had dealt with the provincial caudillos. These were men, like Urquiza, who were distanced from his progressive, liberal ideas and who resented the interference of central authority and, more particularly, Buenos Aires in their affairs. Some of these even saw Lopez as a similar type, and a possible ally against Mitre. The significance of this is that on the eve of the War of the Triple Alliance, Argentina was in a state of fluidity. Nobody could foretell that this system was the one that would survive or that the borders of the country were more or less already fixed. Many in the provinces still yearned for independence, and there was much discussion of forming provincial leagues against the government in Buenos Aires. Others, in the government itself, saw that Argentina was still not complete and would not be so until the Viceroyalty of the Plate had been recreated. It has been suggested that some action that would serve to unify, in fact as well as in law, the newly created country would be welcome—a war, for example. In short, Argentina, like Paraguay, had an uncertain future and the potential for instability. * * * Brazil was to be the main participant on the allied side during the war, and its development was of obvious significance to the region. By this time it stood out from the other countries of South America for a variety of reasons, but perhaps most noticeably for its size. This was combined with a population that, although minute in proportion to its territory, was still significantly large to cause unease in neighboring states, of which almost all those in the continent were numbered. This size not only meant that it was seen as a threat by the others, but it inevitably ensured that it would have disputes over frontiers with each of them and would probably become involved in their politics too, as had already hap-

18

To the Bitter End

pened in the Plate region in the first half of the century, with its interventions into Uruguay and Argentina. This size could also be viewed as a weakness, for it meant that the only way of governing the country was to allow some degree of local autonomy. Although the system was officially a centralized one, the distance between Rio de Janeiro and even the nearest provincial capital, together with the poor communications, meant that in practice local governments had considerable power. This led, inevitably, to the same type of caudillismo as could be seen in Argentina. Nowhere was this more apparent than in Rio Grande do Sul, which bordered Uruguay and which in the 1840s had almost seceded from the empire. Politicians, therefore, had to worry about maintaining the fabric of the country, which to them often meant following policies that were in keeping with the wishes of the individual provinces, rather than for the good of the nation as a whole. Brazil was further set apart from others because it was an empire in a hemisphere that made much of the virtues of republicanism. This was a historical throwback, precipitated by the flight of the Portuguese court to Rio de Janeiro in 1808 to escape the French invasion. When Joao VI returned to Europe in 1821, he left behind his son, Pedro I, who declared independence the following year. He, in turn, was overthrown in 1831, and the decision was made to keep the imperial system by naming his son as successor and operating a regency until he came of age. The existence of a European-styled empire in the tropical jungles of Brazil was a clear anomaly, which, at times, seemed more the stuff of comic opera. There was a fully fledged court, consisting of dukes, barons, counts, and viscounts, and yet this Brazilian aristocracy took itself extremely seriously, much as Lopez, who, according to some accounts, wanted to recreate it in Paraguay. The biggest conundrum of all, however, came in the shape of Pedro II, the moderating power, who seemed every inch the modern, progressive, tolerant, and benign ruler but who nevertheless presided over a system in which 30% of his people existed in a state of enslavement. Outwardly, the system was a model of stability and constitutional rule. Although the early years of Pedro's reign had been turbulent, from the 1850s there was peace and growing prosperity. There were elections, and although the emperor always selected the prime minister, he appeared otherwise to meddle little in the affairs of state and limited himself to the exercising of a paternalistic role. Yet beneath the surface, the system was highly unstable and patched together by compromise and corruption. The electorate was subject to land and income qualifications, which meant that out of a population of 10 million only 200,000 were enfranchised. The rest were made up of those who were ambitious for power but had no chance of realizing it and of those who had no rights under the system at all. Elections were exceedingly corrupt, and vote-buying and intimidation were normal parts of the political process. The senators, deputies, and electors were part of a small oligarchy whose aim was to cling on to power at all costs, which to many meant resisting change in any form.

The Other Players in the Drama

19

Furthermore, the economic and social system seemed to depend on slavery, which was a ready cause of instability. Not only were the slaves themselves a potential danger, for they had to be kept under control by armed force, but the existence of a system that had been rejected by all civilized nations—one that, by 1865, with the defeat of the Confederacy in the United States Civil War, left Brazil in an almost unique position—gave cause for liberals and radicals to unite against the regime. For these reasons, politicians were dominated by a fear of both social and state rebellion, which might put an end to the system. Their response to this was to do nothing, and thus an extreme form of conservatism led to a stagnation in Brazilian politics and a lack of initiative from the center. This might have caused the governments to eschew foreign adventures, and to some extent it did make them more cautious, but it also caused them to become more sensitive to criticism and to threats against their position. Any pressure from below, or from outside, could lead to intemperate reactions. To make matters worse, in 1860 the cozy compromise between liberals and conservatives was upset by the election of radicals calling for reform. These managed to attract some moderate conservatives into forming the Progressive League, which served to make the oligarchy even more nervous. *** Uruguay, then known as the Banda Oriental, was the smallest and perhaps least significant player in the drama, though it was to serve, unwittingly, as a major cause of the war. Until 1810 it, too, had been a part of the Viceroyalty of the Plate and had had to fight for its independence from both Buenos Aires and Portuguese Brazil. For the next half-century it would continue to be vulnerable to the ambitions of its two larger neighbors. In 1822, Brazil, which had just declared itself independent, proclaimed the annexation of the Banda Oriental. This provoked Buenos Aires into sending an army, and a brief war ensued between Brazil and the United Provinces. In 1828, this war was ended by British mediation, with the result that Uruguay was granted its independence. The situation within the new nation was very similar to that in Argentina. Here again there was a struggle between the liberals in Montevideo, who were open to the ideas and influence of Europeans, and those of the interior, who favored a more conservative approach to politics. In some ways the differences were more acute, since Montevideo had long been open to foreigners, both from the neighboring countries of Brazil and Argentina, and from Europe, and of the population of 31,000 living in the capital, about 20,000 were new immigrants. Many of these had fled for political reasons and were therefore strongly liberal. In the countryside many foreigners wanted to acquire land, which led to much resentment from native Uruguayans, thus making the disputes between the two factions even more bitter. From 1838 to 1851, there was a situation of near-anarchy in the country, which at its clearest could be seen as a civil war between the liberals, known as

20

To the Bitter End

Colorados, under Rivera, and the Blancos, led by the caudillos of the interior, under Oribe and backed by Rosas. Montevideo was besieged for nine years, between 1843 and 1851, despite attempts by both France and Britain to relieve it, yet Rivera held out, and a stalemate ensued that greatly held back the development of the country. The fighting was exceptionally bloodthirsty, and the ritual cutting of throats of all prisoners became something of a gruesome sport among the participants. In 1851, Urquiza managed to broker a peace between the two sides. Uruguay was now so poor that it was virtually obliged to fall into the arms of Brazil, to whom in a treaty that same year it ceded many of its territorial rights, allowing the free movement of cattle between the two countries and mortgaging its customs revenue in return for a monthly subsidy. It was now in a desperate situation and completely reliant on its huge neighbor, whose citizens took advantage of its plight to buy up land at cheap prices. On top of this, for five years the Brazilian army remained in the country, treating it almost like an extra province. One benefit of this situation, however, was that it virtually forced the warring factions to cooperate, and, in 1855, Oribe made a Pact of Union with Flores, now Colorado leader, under which they agreed to end the fighting. For nearly a decade this worked well, and Uruguay underwent a transformation as the population increased through immigration and the stock of cattle and sheep doubled. However, it was forced to compete with Argentina and Brazil over these products, for which there was a limited world market, and by 1862 the economy had leveled out. The improvements, which brought superficial political calm, could not disguise the fact that the county was still controlled by caudillos, and that it was still beholden to Brazil. Thus, by 1863, when Flores reneged on the Pact of Union and launched a rebellion against President Berro, Uruguay was still not established as a fully independent country. Its strategic position was critical, for it ensured that at least one side of the River Plate was in neutral hands. This was important to all its neighbors, for Argentina could not see Brazil facing it across the water without considerable alarm, nor could the latter envisage Argentina controlling both banks. As far as Paraguay was concerned, either of these two possibilities would upset what it saw as the equilibrium in the Plate region and severely threaten its access to the outside world. Therefore, on the eve of the war, all three of the countries that were to join together as Allies were in situations of some instability. As well as their own internal problems, which could lead to the governments taking measures that might be ill-considered, their histories show that they saw the situation in the Plate region through a perspective that was very different from nowadays. For whereas we can recognize on a map of 1864 more or less the current shapes of all four countries and thus might assume that these boundaries were already fixed, contemporaries would have seen a situation of much greater fluidity. In the region as a whole, the period since independence had been one of almost continuous warfare, which could be interpreted either as internal or

The Other Players in the Drama

21

international conflict. Some Argentines still looked on Uruguay as being a rebellious province, and some even maintained a similar view of Paraguay, while others, perhaps those from Entre Rios or Corrientes, still refused to admit that they would be forever a part of Argentina. Likewise, Uruguayans were not sure whether their country would end up as an independent nation, either alone or joined to Rio Grande do Sul, or whether it would become part of Argentina, or even of Brazil. This instability meant that however outrageous an attack by any one of these nations on another might be, it could not be said to have come out of the blue, nor could it seriously be said to have upset the equilibrium or the status quo, since, from colonial times, neither of these had really existed. In other words, the War of the Triple Alliance, which has usually been depicted as a discrete entity, can in many ways be seen as a continuation of the period of instability and nation-building that had been in progress since the fall of the colonial empires. The traditional interpretation—that the war was started purely by the megalomania of the Paraguayan tyrant—is mainly based on allied propaganda and is only one of several explanations for its outbreak. There is no question that Lopez played a major role, but there was enough going on in the other countries involved to suggest that he would not be the only cause of the conflict.

4 Political Relations in the Plate Region

The Plate, and its control over the river system to the interior, was a rich prize, and consequently a focus for politics in the region, as well as a potential source of conflict. For each of the four countries the rivers were vital for prosperity and development, and thus mutual relationships were of major significance. It has already been seen that events in Uruguay had been the center of attention for Brazil and Argentina since the early part of the century, and now that Paraguay was preparing for a more outgoing policy, it too was to become embroiled in the area. As has been noted, relations between Paraguay and Argentina had begun badly, but in 1844 matters improved to the extent that the two countries were able to sign a treaty of commerce and navigation. In practice this meant little, since the Argentine Confederation still did not accept Paraguay as independent, but it did at least mean there was some attempt at cooperation between the two, and for Paraguay it was an important step toward recognition. Yet the following year relations deteriorated again, mainly because of Paraguayan support for the secessionist province of Corrientes, and Rosas ignored the treaty by blockading the River Parana. One of the main areas of disagreement was Misiones, on the eastern border between the two countries. Disputes over the region dated from colonial times, but in 1811 Buenos Aires had tacitly accepted that it was part of Paraguay. Throughout his rule, Francia had acted as though it was, and had established military garrisons there, but in the treaty of 1841 with Corrientes, Lopez had indicated that he was prepared to surrender half of this territory. Although this

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23

treaty had no legality, as it was not signed with Argentina but with the rebellious province, it did at least show the limited extent of Paraguayan claims. In 1852, in a treaty of friendship with Argentina, Paraguay gave up all claims to Misiones, perhaps motivated by the need for Argentine support against Brazil, with whom Paraguay was currently in conflict. This treaty was never ratified by Argentina, and so Misiones remained an unresolved issue between the two nations. Also in question was the frontier in the north-west of the Confederation. This region, known as the Chaco, was large, semidesert, and virtually uninhabited, but it too became an area of dispute. A royal ordinance of 1618 had given the area to the province of Paraguay, and this was recognized in the 1852 treaty, but as this had never become law, the arguments simmered on. The uncertain political situation in Argentina usually meant that governments there had more pressing matters to consider, but the coming to power of Mitre, and some signs of greater stability, caused Argentine claims to be reinvigorated. *** Paraguay's relations with Brazil had also been variable. The latter, in 1844, had been the first country to recognize Paraguayan independence and thereafter had made efforts to get other foreign powers to do the same. The reason for this solicitude may have been an attempt to ingratiate itself with Paraguay but could equally have been part of a Brazilian plan to irritate Argentina, which still did not accept Paraguayan independence, and to get Paraguayan support in its struggle against Rosas. There seems no doubt that Brazil * /as meddling in Argentine politics, and it was almost certainly trying to get Corrientes and Entre Rios to defect from the Argentine Confederation, possibly to join up with Paraguay. Carlos Antonio Lopez, however, seemed flattered by the increased importance that this lent his country and seemed willing to play Brazil's game. In 1850, both countries signed a defensive treaty of alliance, aimed primarily against Rosas, which resulted in Paraguay gaining Brazilian military instructors and weapons, including artillery. Yet Lopez was cautious about committing his country too deeply, and when Urquiza rebelled against Rosas in 1851 and asked him for help, he refused. However, when Brazil began to lend active assistance, Lopez changed his mind and joined it. His reward was the eventual recognition of Paraguay by Argentina in 1852. Otherwise, relations between Brazil and Paraguay were less happy. One of the major problems was again the matter of borders, particularly Paraguay's northeastern frontier. This contained little of value, was virtually unpopulated, and produced only mate, which few Brazilians had a taste for. Nevertheless, the latter were convinced of their legal right to the territory, and this had nearly led to war in 1855, when Lopez expelled the garrison of a Brazilian fort in the disputed zone. Brazil sent a large squadron to the River Plate; gaining the permission of Argentina, this proceeded up the Parana toward Corrientes. The British minister reported that Lopez was "making extensive warlike preparations" and seemed "ill disposed to listen to any reasonable suggestions in favor of a peaceable and

24

To the Bitter End

moderate policy."1 Lopez ordered a partial evacuation of Asuncion and sent the treasury and church valuables into the interior. In fact, Lopez's statements were bluster, and he actually seems to have been terrified by the Brazilian threat and prepared to back down to their demands. It was his son, Francisco Solano, who strengthened his resolve and who managed to persuade the Brazilians to leave the majority of their squadron at Corrientes and proceed upriver to Asuncion with just one ship. By linking the border issue with that of freedom of navigation of the rivers, Lopez managed to secure a favorable treaty, allowing Brazil rights of passage up the Paraguay River to its interior province of Mato Grosso, in exchange for a frontier set at the line of Paraguayan demands. Predictably, the Brazilian government was furious with its envoy and refused to ratify the treaty. The following year a compromise was reached, with the boundary question put on ice for six years. By 1862, at the expiration of this period, during which a solution should have been reached, tension between the two countries rose again. Yet no effort was made to appoint commissioners or deal with an issue that could clearly lead to a serious breakdown in relations between them. On the surface, these episodes reveal a certain degree of brute cunning by Lopez in his attempts to outwit his larger neighbor, though closer examination provides a more worrying view of relationships in the Plate region. There was an element of political brinkmanship on the part of the Paraguayan dictator, but the fact that war was averted was due not to him but to the patient, if not weak, behavior of Brazil. Lopez showed more an ignorance of diplomatic behavior than intelligence and skill, and it is clear that, in 1855 at least, he was not master of the situation. Paraguayan policy lacked a spirit of compromise and negotiation, and Brazil was slowly learning that it would only get its own way through brute force, or at least the threat of it. Lopez had also revealed an alarming degree of fanaticism. He had informed the British minister that he would not sign up to the Congress of Paris because, in his opinion, war was a better method of settling disputes. The lesson he learnt from this episode was that if Paraguay was to hold its own on the continent, it was not improved negotiating tactics that were required but greater military strength. He immediately began the fortification of the southern post of Humaita and started to buy arms and munitions from Europe. Brazil had shown admirable patience with Paraguay, yet its intentions were almost inevitably misunderstood. In fact, the existence of a relatively strong and relatively independent Paraguay was absolutely essential to the security of Brazil, and this was a major aim of its foreign policy. It wanted to limit, as far as possible, the extent of its borders with Argentina, which it saw as a far more serious threat, and therefore it was not in its interests to weaken its neighbor. However, Brazil, too, had an alarmingly defensive attitude. Despite its great size and despite the unattractiveness of the land it was claiming, it was tenacious in fighting for what it believed were its rights. It has been said that Brazil suffered

Political Relations in the Plate Region

25

from the disease of all empires—that it just had to keep growing—and there is a certain amount of evidence for this, for it was currently trying to extend its borders in the north as well. Its dispatch of an armed squadron in 1855 showed just how far it was prepared to go. From this time on the prospect of a war between Brazil and Paraguay seemed ever more likely. Thompson, the English engineer in Paraguayan service, admittedly writing in hindsight, predicted that war was a certainty with Brazil after 1856. When Lopez asked the United States minister for help with buying warships, the latter assumed that these would be used "to whip Brazil."2 After 1862, the uncertainty over the boundary question and the more aggressive stance of Solano Lopez made the situation more critical. What was not needed was an excuse for these two countries to come to blows. *** Such an excuse existed, however. To Paraguay, events in the Banda Oriental had only ever been of passing significance, and it had not played any part in the civil wars before the 1860s. It had resisted Uruguayan attempts to bind it to an offensive/defensive alliance in 1854, and it was surprised by the arrival, in February 1862, of Dr. Juan Jose Herrera, a special envoy seeking better relations between the two countries. Nothing concrete was achieved, but in March 1863 Herrera, now his country's foreign minister, revealed his thoughts to his representative in Asuncion about a possible alliance between the two countries, together with the provinces of Entre Rios and Corrientes, which seemed about to break away from Argentina. On 19 April 1863, the decade of peace and progress in Uruguay was brought to an end by an invasion by Venancio Flores, leader of the Colorados and the previous president of the country. Now Paraguay was concerned. The struggle between the two factions, which was mirrored in Argentina, had been of little interest to the rulers in Asuncion, but the victory of Mitre, a Colorado sympathizer, and the possible success of his colleague in Uruguay, who had actually fought with him at the battle of Pavon, was a clear threat to Solano Lopez, especially since these two now regarded him as an ideological enemy. Lopez had not previously seen the situation in these terms, but now he was forced to accept that in the River Plate region the battle was between the apparently progressive Colorados, headed by Mitre and Flores, with Brazil as a sympathizer, against the allegedly backward Blancos, consisting of the legal government in Uruguay, himself, and Urquiza and other caudillos in Argentina. The Blancos were well aware of this situation and saw the need to involve Lopez in their struggle. In July 1863, they again proposed an offensive/defensive alliance and, although Lopez rejected it, the Uruguayan minister, Lapido, received the impression that an Argentine attack on Uruguay would nevertheless be seen by Paraguay as a casus belli. The Uruguayan seemed to have achieved one victory, however, as on 6 September Lopez directed a note to Mitre demanding an explanation from the Argentine government concerning its support for

26

To the Bitter End

Flores. He was probably less happy, however, when he learned that with the demand Lopez had sent copies of all the Uruguayan correspondence with Paraguay—a move that did nothing to help his country's relations with Argentina. This curious tactic, which went against accepted diplomatic protocol, was regarded by the historian, Pelham Box, as a deliberate attempt to stir up bad relations between the two countries, so that Paraguay might be asked to mediate—but this seems unlikely. Relations between Mitre and the Blancos were already bad enough, and it seems to have been just another example of Paraguayan rulers' naivete and lack of awareness of the principles of international relations. The main consequence was to draw Paraguay to Mitre's attention and to worsen relations between the two. Mitre avoided replying to the Paraguayan note and, instead, demanded to know whether there was any more correspondence that implicated Uruguay. Lopez refused to divulge this and reiterated his desire for a formal reply. He mentioned that two expeditions in support of Flores had been seen leaving Buenos Aires in broad daylight and added that the arrest of the Argentine gunboat, Pampero, laden with arms for the rebels, was common knowledge. He also remarked that the Argentine garrisoning of the strategically placed island of Martin Garcia at the entrance to the Rivers Parana and Uruguay constituted a threat to the independence of both Uruguay and Paraguay. Rufino Elizalde, Argentine foreign minister, replied in honeyed tones that he would love to give an explanation, but that the suspected cooperation between the Uruguayan and Paraguayan governments would have to be divulged first. Lopez was not impressed, and in January 1864 he ordered the Tacuary to Buenos Aires to pick up a reply from the Argentine government. The response was terse and simply denied that there was any support for Flores. The Paraguayan warship returned with the scorn of the Buenos Aires press ringing out behind it. From a Paraguayan perspective this behavior, and the suspected friendship between Argentina and Brazil, was deeply worrying. One principle of international affairs that Lopez did understand, and to which he repeatedly referred at this time, was that of the balance of power or, as he termed it, equilibrium. This balance was to be achieved through the continuing mutual rivalry of the two great powers, which would ensure that the smaller nations such as Paraguay and Uruguay would be left undisturbed, and which would even allow them to profit by playing one power off against the other. His father had employed this tactic in the boundary disputes, knowing that he could be braver than his country's size indicated because neither great power would push too far through fear of the other. Now the situation had changed, and there was a real danger that the combined weight of Argentina and Brazil would be a threat to his country, or at least to his rule over it. Lopez could not simply wait, do nothing, and hope that the situation would go away: he and his country were involved whether they liked it or not.

Political Relations in the Plate Region

27

For the moment, however, he tried not to antagonize his neighbors. He limited his intervention to declaring to the diplomatic corps in Asuncion that the "perfect and absolute independence of Uruguay"3 was a condition of the balance of power in the Plate region. He turned down an invitation from the Uruguayans to join with them in capturing the island of Martin Garcia, and he even declined to be a mediator in the dispute between Argentina and Uruguay. In fact, Herrera moaned that Paraguay did not seem to want war at all, and in May 1864 a new Uruguayan envoy, Sagastume, was sent to Asuncion to try to whip up a bit more enthusiasm. Meanwhile, Flores's rebellion was stuttering, and the Blanco government remained in control, but now a greater danger began to emerge with the entry onto the scene of Brazil. The alleged issue was that of Brazilian settlers in Uruguay, who by the 1860s numbered some 20,000, representing up to 15% of the total population of the country and owning 30% of its land. They were mainly ranchers and occupied most of the land bordering the Brazilian province of Rio Grande do Sul. The Brazilian government did nothing to discourage this emigration and often supported the settlers in disputes against the Uruguayans. The 1851 treaty had given the former huge advantages, and the free movement of cattle meant that the border barely existed. In fact, the imperial government was weak and had little control over Rio Grande do Sul, whose caudillos, such as General Netto, did much as they pleased. These caudillos were accustomed to treat Uruguay as part of their own territory, and they would often carry out illegal raids, called californias, into the south to recapture slaves or to rob farms. Rio Grande do Sul had itself tried to become an independent state in the 1840s, and, worried by this and by their own natural sympathy for the cattlemen, the Brazilian governments did little to antagonize it. However, during the ministry of Berro, from 1860 to 1864, the Uruguayans had tried to overcome this situation by deliberately colonizing the frontier zone with their own nationals, and trying to limit the use of slavery on the Brazilian estancias. Berro refused to renew the 1851 treaty and imposed taxes on cattle passing from Uruguay to Rio Grande do Sul. This had a considerable impact on the Brazilian settlers and caused them to turn to their government for assistance. This may explain why Brazil began to lend covert help to Flores. It did this by allowing cross-border raids, lending supplies of arms and men, as well as providing sanctuary for the rebels in Rio Grande do Sul. There has to be doubt over whether this was a policy of the central government or whether it was local caudillos acting on their own initiative, but at first the Brazilian foreign ministry was deaf to Uruguayan protests. From May 1863, it replied to Herrera's notes by denying any knowledge of the incidents, though in December it did at last concede that these activities were going on and offered to try to persuade the Rio Grande authorities to put a stop to them. Herrera was not fooled, and his protest to Brazil about the fortification of Martin Garcia by Argentina showed that he

28

To the Bitter End

was also fully aware of the cooperation between these two countries. Writing later. Herrera noted that the Triple Alliance seemed to have been in operation from this time. Lopez was made fully aware of this situation, and it must have indicated to him the perilous position of his own country. In desperation, the Blanco government stepped up its attempts to get an alliance with Paraguay, and the Sagastume mission requested military assistance, including warships to be sent to the Plate and 2.000 infantry, together with artillery, to garrison Uruguayan towns on the east bank of the Uruguay River to enable the diminutive national army to resist a possible invasion from Brazil. Flow much effect the insidious mutterings of the Blanco representatives had on the fragile ego and understanding of Lopez is not clear, but their attention must have flattered him, and certainly they served to bring the conflict in Uruguay, which did not seem of immediate importance to Paraguay, to his notice. On 1 August, realizing that the situation was becoming increasingly seriou. the Blanco government sent another mission to Asuncion under Antonio Carreras to get an immediate promise of Paraguayan military aid. Carreras wanted support against Flores and help if Argentina or Brazil attacked Uruguay, insisting that Lopez should warn the two countries that he would do this. He asked, moreover, for financial aid and repeated the desirability of a league involving Entre Rios and Corrientes. The Paraguayan foreign minister, Berges, mentioned this to the British minister, pointing out that Paraguay was not going to get embroiled but also indicating that it could not stand back and see Brazil occupy Uruguay, for Paraguay's "very existence depends on the navigation of the Parana and the Paraguay, and on the perfect neutrality of the River Plate."4 The situation deteriorated, however, when on 4 August Brazil sent an ultimatum to the Blanco government, demanding immediate action to be taken against complaints made by its nationals in Uruguay. It gave it six days to comply and made it clear that failure to do so would result in the Brazilian fleet being sent to Montevideo to get satisfaction. It stressed that this would not be an act of war. but merely "reprisals.*^ Herrera returned the ultimatum, stating that it was too undignified to keep in the Uruguayan archives. Piqued. Saraiva. the Brazilian special envoy, sent it back again "for the same reasons"6 and packed his bags. Herrera passed the ultimatum on to Asuncion. On learning of the contents. Lopez gave them careful consideration, realizing the possible implications of any course of action that he might undertake. On 30 August he sent a diplomatic note to the Brazilian government, protesting against its ultimatum. Unlike much Paraguayan correspondence, this was a calm, measured, and determined statement. Lopez explained that he had hoped that Brazil would find a different solution to its problems with the Uruguayan government and pointed out that Paraguay could not stand back and allow Brazil to intervene. He ended by stating that "the government of the Republic of Paraguay will consider any occupation of Oriental territory as an attempt against the equilibrium of the states of the Plate which interests the Republic of Paraguay as a guarantee for its security, peace and prosperity; and that it protests in the most

Political Relations in the Plate Region

29

solemn manner against the act, freeing itself for the future of every responsibility that may eventually arise from the present declaration."7 The note should have been a warning to Brazil, for it clearly left open the possibility of military action by Paraguay. Since Lopez has had to bear a large part of the responsibility for the war, it is only fair to highlight the areas in which he was not to blame. The Brazilian threat of invasion, like the Argentine support for the Flores rebellion, was contrary to international law, and Paraguay's actions were, at least until now, only a response to these circumstances. Lopez could be criticized for not minding his own business, but he had good reason to suppose that if Brazil was prepared to invade Uruguay, in full view of European observers, then it would hardly stop at infiltrating the areas it claimed from Paraguay, far away from prying eyes. Equally, if Mitre could support a rebellion by the Uruguayan rebels, then what was to stop him doing the same with Paraguayan dissidents in Buenos Aires? To have done less than he did at that time would have left Lopez open to accusations of negligence. The Brazilian minister in Asuncion, Vianna de Lima, replied swiftly to the Paraguayan note with a short, diplomatic, but dismissive response. He would have been better advised to have transmitted the note to his government first, since the delay might have allowed time for tempers to cool and would have made his eventual reply seem less peremptory. Predictably, Lopez was enraged, and he was further upset by consequences to his initial note that he had not foreseen, for in another extraordinary lapse in diplomatic custom he had sent to the Brazilians copies of all the correspondence between Paraguay and Uruguay. Not only did this scandalize the diplomatic community, but it produced an outcry in Montevideo, where the government was criticized for its poor handling of the matter. Berro resigned, and he was replaced by a more hard-line Blanco, Atanasio Aguirre. Worse, Lopez ordered the note, and the correspondence, to be published in the official government newspaper. El Semanario. where it was seized upon by the wits of the Buenos Aires press, who had a field day in satirizing him. Thompson remarked that jokes such as these, and descriptions of his country as "the monstrous and phenomenal existence of an entirely Asiatic society."8 affected Lopez greatly and turned him even further against Argentina. In fact, he had good reason to fear his neighbor, for in June there had already been a meeting between the Argentine and Brazilian ministers in Montevideo to work out a solution to the Uruguayan problem, in which they informally agreed on joint action if Paraguay should intervene on behalf of the Blanco government. This gave weight to Lopez's belief that the two countries were in league against him. and although Argentina was to repeat its refusal to get involved in the Uruguayan crisis, it certainly did nothing to hinder the operations of Brazilian ships in the River Plate or the River Uruguay. In hindsight, it might have been wiser if these two nations had made it clearer to Lopez that they would cooperate, for this might have encouraged him to stay out of the crisis. Despite their professed fear of Paraguay and their subsequent self-asserted role as victims, they appear to have shown him more contempt than respect.

30

To the Bitter End

On 14 September, Berges protested about an attack by a Brazilian warship on the Uruguayan steamer, Villa del Salto, which was bringing aid to besieged Blancos in Mercedes, but he was ignored. Berges, Lopez's mouthpiece, was showing indications of a harder line, and he wrote to his minister in Buenos Aires, Egusquiza, that the whole country was arming, "and you may count on us putting ourselves in a position to make the voice of the Paraguayan government heard in the events that are developing in the River Plate."9 He followed this, on 21 October, by adding that the time had come to "lay aside the humble role that we have played in this part of America."10 While these remarks seem superficially bellicose, they are also indicative of a defensiveness and a desire not to be pushed around. By themselves, they are not evidence that Paraguay was looking for a war, and, besides, the second remark was made four days after the Brazilians, in contravention of all international law, had invaded Uruguay. Berges, in fact, had every reason to be bullish, for in January 1864 a general decree of mobilization had been issued. Such was the organization and control of the government in Paraguay that recruits began flooding in immediately—some 5,000 by the middle of February. Lopez went to Cerro Leon to review them, traveling part of the way by train and then on horseback. That afternoon, he stood for four hours under a broiling sun while his troops paraded past him. Berges claimed in August that there were 30,000 men under arms, with 14,000 more veterans ready for call-up—a number that was considerably greater than the forces of Argentina and Brazil combined. Both countries were aware of this buildup, and they exaggerated it for their own purposes to portray Paraguay as an aggressive, warlike nation. For this reason, if for no other, they might have been better advised to show Paraguay a little more respect. The timing of the mobilization is of interest, since it occurred after the Argentines had rejected Lopez's call for an explanation of their support for Flores but before the Brazilians had requested redress from the Blancos, suggesting that the former were the presumed target. It has been used to show that Paraguay, as the first country to undertake this step, was the aggressor in the subsequent conflict, especially since there was little indication at that time that it was under threat of attack from the others. While this interpretation is plausible, it is hardly conclusive, for Lopez may have mobilized simply to give his country greater weight in negotiations or to deter Argentina from further activity in Uruguay. The slowness with which he subsequently acted hardly bears out the accusation that he was using the crisis to launch a campaign of expansion in the region.

5 The Invasion of Brazil: September to December 1864

In Asuncion, the developing crisis was greeted with enthusiasm by the people. The birthday celebrations for President Lopez that year were the most splendid yet and continued from late July to early September. There seems little doubt that they were extended to create a mood of patriotism in the country and so to bind the people more closely to their leader. But while the government initiated the festivities and deliberately used them for this end, they also had the reverse effect of convincing the ever-suggestible Lopez that his people were genuinely enthusiastic for war. The season began with a grand ball in the new railway station. Lopez and his entourage rode through the streets of the capital, which had been specially decorated for the occasion. On either side were lines of paper lanterns, each with a message in praise of the leader, and triumphal arches towered across the road. He arrived at the station to the sound of rockets and firecrackers and processed down the long hall to a raised platform, where he and Madam Lynch sat on thrones under a banner of crimson silk. His ministers and generals, magnificent in their uniforms, stood around him, while elsewhere in the room everyone else remained on their feet, as no one had the right to sit until permission was given. Speeches and eulogies were pronounced, which he gracefully deflected by saying that praise for him was praise for the nation. Then the dancing began. The ball, as was customary, carried on throughout the night, and the sun was up before it was time to leave. The next night there was another, and every night thereafter, not just in Asuncion, but throughout the country. If Lopez was not present, then similar respect was paid to his portrait. During the day there were carriage processions, lined by men on horseback and led by bands. These pa-

32

To the Bitter End

rades would stop outside the houses of foreign missions, in the hope that those inside would be impressed by how happy the Paraguayans were and how much respect they felt for their leader. In fact, this tactic had the opposite effect, with both Thornton and Washburn privately indicating their disgust and the Buenos Aires press sarcastically remarking that the Paraguayans seemed to have become infected with St. Vims* s dance. Meanwhile, in Uruguay. Brazil had used its troops to attack the Blanco government. Admiral Tamandare was sent with a naval squadron to besiege Montevideo, while on land General Mena Barreto was advancing on Salto and Paysandii. There were strong rumors that the Brazilians were being helped with military supplies from Argentina, and by the end of October things seemed desperate for the government. If Lopez was to intervene militarily in its support, he would have to act immediately, yet the problems in transporting his army to the area of conflict were enormous, and so for the remainder of the month he delayed. On 9 November, the Brazilian steamer, Marques de Olinda, on its regular journey up the Paraguay River to Mato Grosso, stopped off in Asuncion. On board it had weapons, munitions, paper money, and the new governor of Mato Grosso, Colonel Carneiro de Campos. Throughout 10 November, Lopez pondered hard on his options. He had to consider not only the question of whether Paraguay was in danger from an attack by Brazil at any time, but that if it was, when would circumstances be most favorable for it to resist such an attack. Given the manner in which Brazil had instigated a quarrel with Uruguay and then had pressured the Blanco government with an ultimatum before rapidly resorting to military action, he had every reason to suppose that it might do the same to his country. Thompson recalled Lopez saying that "if we don't have a war now with Brazil, we shall have one at a less convenient time for ourselves."*1 Such statements are interesting, for they show that in Lopez's mind war with Brazil was inevitable. Although there was not in Paraguay a fifth column of settlers, there was nevertheless the issue of boundaries, over which in 1855 Brazil had been prepared to use armed force. The behavior of Argentina in the present crisis gave him every reason to suppose that it would act in a similar way if Paraguay was threatened and would probably join with Brazil in order to settle boundary questions of its own. It was clear that the coming to power of Mitre had caused huge disruption in the Plate region, and Lopez could perhaps be forgiven for assuming that Paraguay's days were numbered. For if Paraguay was forced to fight for its existence at some stage, would it not be better for that battle to be soon, while at least it would have some support from another country and when the issue might be more in the open and gain international attention, rather than later, when his country could be quietly infiltrated ? At least now Paraguay had a superior army and Brazil would be forced to fight on two fronts, and there was perhaps the faintest possibility that Argentina might not join in. The decision was an agonizing one, and Lopez was well aware of the implications. Paraguay's independence had hitherto depended on its abil-

The Invasion of Brazil

33

ity to keep a low profile and steer clear of all entanglements. Would it be too much of a risk to reverse that policy and launch his country into an uncertain future? That day, while the Marques de Olinda remained moored in Asuncion, taking on extra supplies, he called a meeting of his main advisers. We cannot be sure what was said or what opinions Lopez put forward, but it appears that the Uruguayan diplomat, Sagastume, used all his persuasive powers to convince him of the need to seize the ship and join his government in the war against Brazil. Berges, perhaps more aware of the international implications, urged caution and advised that Lopez await circumstances. Captain Pedro Meza, of the small Paraguayan navy, strongly urged the immediate capture of the ship, because it would give another good boat to the Paraguayan squadron, it would facilitate the capture of Mato Grosso, and Lopez could avail himself of the arms and money on board. The majority supported him. In an atmosphere of considerable tension, Lopez remained undecided. The next day, the Marques de Olinda was permitted to leave Asuncion and sail upstream toward Mato Grosso. At some stage on the 11th, Lopez made up his mind. He sent a message to Asuncion, ordering the Paraguayan warship, Tacuary, to sail in pursuit of the Marques de Olinda, stop it, and bring it back to port. This was done on the 12th, and on the morning of the 13th the Brazilian ship was escorted into Asuncion and the governor, captain, and crew placed under arrest. The Brazilian minister, Vianna de Lima, was informed that Paraguay now accepted the state of war imposed by Brazil following its invasion of Uruguay. A few days later, Washburn traveled to Cerro Leon to try to secure passports to enable Vianna de Lima to leave the country. He found the atmosphere among the soldiers at the military camp somber and anxious. He protested at the seizure of the ship, but Lopez was unrepentant. Among the reasons he gave was that it would only be through war that Paraguay would get the attention and respect of the world and that, although small, it had the advantage of a geographical position that made it the equal of bigger powers. He added that every soldier sent by Brazil would have to travel thousands of miles, at great expense, while his own soldiers would cost little and they would be well entrenched by the time the Brazilians arrived. He considered that after a short war, Brazil would be glad to settle on terms advantageous to Paraguay, and that the boundary questions would then be settled to his liking. He noted that Paraguay would thereafter be seen as a nation whose friendship would be sought rather than ignored. Washburn replied that in his opinion it would not be a quick war and that, although the Brazilians might need a year to get their army together, when it arrived, it would be powerful, and victorious. Most historians have taken the seizure of the Marques de Olinda as marking the start of the War of the Triple Alliance, or the Paraguayan War, as it is more popularly termed, but they are wrong. This action marked the entry of Paraguay into the Brazilian-Uruguayan war. The War of the Triple Alliance, as will be seen, was something very different. Out of context, Lopez's behavior might

34

To the Bitter End

seem aggressive and insupportable and might even provide a certain justification for the future actions of the allied powers. But that is simplistic. Lopez was merely seizing the best opportunity to fight what he regarded as the inevitable showdown with Brazil on terms that would be most favorable to himself. There is no evidence that he was considering extending the war to include invading Buenos Aires and making himself Emperor of the Plate, as the more fanciful of novelists or allied apologists have suggested. He was not undertaking a war of conquest, but merely informing other powers that Paraguay was prepared to stand up for itself. But he also revealed a less savory side to his character. He was reluctant to follow diplomatic norms and allow Vianna de Lima free passage out of the country down the Paraguay River. Only after heated arguments with Washburn, which seem to have sown the seeds of distrust between him and the American minister that were later to be so disastrous, were the Brazilian minister and his family allowed to leave. The crew of the Marques de Olinda were not so fortunate. Although Lopez guaranteed that they would be treated chivalrously, they were, instead, sent to the interior of the country, where they endured the privations that were to be the lot of most of his prisoners. It is known that Colonel Campos died in 1867, and it is believed that none of the rest survived the war. The immediate question for Lopez was what to do next. If he was going to help the Uruguayans, he would have to act soon and send troops in their defense, but now he found himself defeated by geography. He could not go overland, except through Argentina and that might have severe consequences, and Paraguay's border with Brazil was so far north that it would have been ridiculously impractical, if not plain impossible, to send troops down to Uruguay by that route. To send an army down the River Parana would probably be opposed by Argentina, and, besides, Paraguay had so few ships that it would not be possible to embark sufficient troops to give much assistance to the Uruguayan government. He was therefore left with Mato Grosso, in the north, as his target, possibly because he may have hoped to divert Brazilian forces from Uruguay, but probably because there was simply no other inhabited parts of Brazil within reach. He later informed the Paraguayan congress that he had chosen to attack Mato Grosso because Brazil had been stockpiling large quantities of arms that would be used in an invasion of Paraguay. Such an expedition would have little military purpose, but it was at least striking a blow against Brazil, and it might have a certain moral effect in bringing Paraguay to the world's attention. We can only conjecture what Lopez's aims really were. He wrote little and was not inclined to explain his real reasons. We must assume that he told his generals something about what he was intending to do and why, but they were largely uneducated men and did not record his comments. Besides, only a couple survived the war. Of the officers who did write their memoirs—Thompson, Aveiro, and Centurion—all were strangely reticent over Lopez's thinking. There is also a danger of overestimating him and assuming that he had any particular

The Invasion of Brazil

35

Invasion of Mato Grosso, December 1864

objectives at all. Although acting logically at this time, he was always prone to whimsy and sudden changes of heart, and he had little or no education in military strategy. At any rate, there was no apparent coordination between him and the Uruguayans, and his departure in the opposite direction can only have been moderately useful to them. The expedition left on 14 December, amid considerable excitement, from the port of Asuncion. The main force—some 3,000 infantry with 12 artillery pieces—under the command of Colonel Vicente Barrios, Lopez's brother-inlaw, was to sail in five steamers up the Paraguay River toward the Brazilian fort at Coimbra. A secondary force, under Colonel Isidoro Resquin, consisting of similar numbers of cavalry, was to leave the northern port of Concepcion and march inland toward the Brazilian towns of Nioac and Miranda, and then on to Corumba. Lopez was there to see his troops leave, and he made one of his customary speeches before, with bands playing, the ships weighed anchor and moved slowly upstream. Barrios reached Coimbra on the evening of 26 December and anchored a few miles below the fort. The settlement was situated on a spur of land that jutted out into the river. It was defended with 14-foot-high stone walls and could only be attacked from the south. This route was made more difficult by natural barriers of cactus and other seemingly impenetrable vegetation, as well as by large boulders. It was defended by about 400 men and had approximately 40 brass cannon. That night Barrios placed his artillery on the far side of the river so that

36

To the Bitter End

they could fire across into the settlement, while he unloaded the rest of his troops south of the fort. On the morning of the 27th. under a tlag of truce, he sent a message to the Brazilian commander. Colonel Portocarreiro. a former instructor in the Paraguavan army, giving him one hour to surrender. Portocarreiro declined the offer, and after the allotted time Barrios ordered his artillery to open fire, keeping the bombardment up for most of that day. On the morning of the 28th, the Paraguayans attacked, but although they reached the walls, with considerable difficulty, they found that they could not get into the fort because they had forgotten to bring ladders with them. Standing on each other's shoulders in a vain attempt to scale the walls and exposed to rifle fire and lethal canister shot from the Brazilian cannon, which exploded and sent splinters of metal and iron flying through their ranks, the Paraguayans lost almost 200 men. On the following morning, they attacked again, and this time they took the fort without resistance. The reason for this unexpectedly easy victory became clear after they had climbed the walls: they found that the entire garrison had been evacuated the previous night in two steamers. Admittedly, the defenders had been so short of ammunition that even the women had had to sit up desperately making paper cartridges, but even so their strong position suggested that they could have put up more of a fight. Evidently the Brazilian authorities thought so too. for Portocarreiro was arrested for cowardice shortly afterwards. Taking on board the captured arms and supplies, the Paraguayans continued upstream and easily took the towns of Albuquerque and Corumba. both of which surrendered without a struggle. In the latter, the Paraguayans went on the rampage, sacking, looting, and raping the few women who remained in the town. Two steamers were dispatched in pursuit of the tleeing Brazilians and one, the Ypord, caught up with the Anambay and boarded it. After the Brazilian crew had escaped by jumping into the water, its English captain followed suit. On the way back down the river, the commander of the Ypord. Lieutenant Herreras, stopped off at Dourados, a Brazilian arsenal, to load up with gunpowder. The heat of the dav was so great that one of his officers suggested that it would be unsafe to move the powder. Scornfully. Herreras entered the magazine to help with the loading and was promptly blown up, along with 23 of his men. Resquin, meanwhile, had been marching into Brazil by land, finding the countryside more or less deserted as most Brazilians had lied on hearing of his arrival. The Paraguayans did not behave well, however—they looted property and mistreated civilians. A small Brazilian force shadowed him, and there was a brief skirmish near the River Miranda, but otherwise they avoided contact. In January, the expedition returned, laden with booty and leaving behind small garrisons in all the captured towns—about 1,000 men in all. However limited its aims—and it was no clearer from the results exactly what the purpose had been—the expedition must be qualified a success. Easy victories had been won, which had the result of considerably raising the morale of the army and the population, and large quantities of guns, rifles, and ammunition,

The Invasion of Brazil

37

not to mention livestock, were brought back. As well as these, Brazilian women were captured, to be used as slaves, and it was reported that Lopez was garlanded with a necklace of Brazilian ears. It had not. however, had much effect on the course of the war. Realizing that there was no way they could send a relief expedition to Mato Grosso by land in time to resist the Paraguayans, the Brazilians had, instead, ignored the incursion and moved the bulk of their army down south into Uruguay. By the time the expedition returned, the Brazilians had captured Paysandu. executing its Blanco commander, Gomez, and they had now turned their attention to the siege of Montevideo. In a circular letter to the diplomatic community at the end of January, they acknowledged Paraguay's declaration of war but accused it of being motivated simply by the Brazilian occupation of Uruguay, something they did not consider a sufficient justification. Although it now recognized the state of war with Uruguay. Brazil still denied that its intentions were to take over the country, despite all appearances to the contrary.

6 The Triple Alliance

Lopez now seemed unsure of how to proceed. The campaign in Mato Grosso had had a limited success in terms of achieving easy conquests for Paraguay, but it had failed to attract Brazilian attention and to persuade the empire to divert some of its army away from Uruguay. It is not certain how committed Lopez was to supporting the Blancos, but certainly the execution of Gomez had created a very poor impression, and his next move suggested that his main aim was, indeed, to help the Uruguayan government. On 14 January, he formally requested permission from Argentina for Paraguayan troops to cross through Corrientes on their way to defend the legal government in Uruguay. He guaranteed that they would cause no damage and cited as a precedent the help that Argentina had given Brazil in 1855, when it had sent a squadron up the Parana River in its boundary dispute with Paraguay. A negotiator, Luis Caminos, was also dispatched to Buenos Aires to liaise with Mitre and, more ambitiously, to raise a loan in order to buy weapons and other war material. At first glance, Lopez's motives for making this request seem baffling. For a start, it appears incredible that he believed that any country would give permission for a foreign army to cross its territory, no matter what the situation. Given that Argentina was in a state of professed neutrality in the Brazilian-Paraguayan war, the likelihood of its accepting was going to be extremely slim, especially if Lopez's apparent belief that Argentina and Brazil were secretly in cahoots over Flores's invasion was correct. Interestingly, two days later, and before any reply could have been given, Lopez moved an army across the High Parana into the

The Triple Alliance

39

disputed Misiones region, which suggests that he was prepared to act regardless of Argentine feelings. It is possible that he wanted to provoke Argentina into a war, to give him an excuse for using its territory against Brazil, though this would hardly have been to his advantage. He may have wanted to split opinion in Argentina and draw Corrientes away from Mitre, though this seems rather too sophisticated a motive for him. Of course, it is also possible that he thought the request might be granted, either ingenuously, or because he believed more in the traditional rivalry between Argentina and Brazil than in their present, possibly temporary, friendship. At any rate, Mitre refused permission. On 9 February, he replied that Argentina intended to remain strictly neutral in the conflict between Paraguay and Brazil and that to let either country use its territory would be to infringe that status. In fact, Lopez had not been completely naive in making the request, and he was not the only one who thought that Mitre might be amenable; Urquiza did too. The Entre Rios governor was playing a pivotal role at this moment, for both Lopez and Mitre were anxious to gain his backing and both considered that without it their situations would be more vulnerable. Since he was a man who put personal advancement—be it political or financial—before anything else, he was regarded with some degree of distrust by both sides, and some of his statements suggested that he was playing a far from honest game. In fact, his behavior was broadly consistent and, for a variety of reasons, generally loyal to Mitre. He had no particular liking for either leader but assumed that a war between the two countries would probably be fought on his territory, which was something he wished to avoid. Maintaining the status quo, which meant aligning himself with Mitre, was therefore the lesser of two evils. However, he had misunderstood Mitre's attitude toward the passage of armies through Corrientes and the strength of his current friendship with Brazil. This had caused him to send apparently contradictory signals to Lopez, such as his statement to Caminos, in late 1864, that he favored Paraguay in its war against Brazil and that if it were to go through Corrientes to invade the empire, he would personally come and offer himself as a volunteer. Mitre had called him to task for this pronouncement, but Urquiza assured him of his loyalty, though confirming, somewhat ambiguously, that he had no objection to either army going through Misiones. Encouraged by Urquiza's apparently benevolent attitude, Lopez told him of his intention to go ahead and promised that the Paraguayan army would pose a threat neither to Entre Rios nor to Corrientes, nor even to Mitre, though he considered that the latter deserved it for the moral support he had given Brazil. Urquiza responded simply by wishing him good luck, and in February, according to Lopez, he informed the Paraguayans that such a passage of troops would not be a casus belli but that, if it was, he would take Paraguay's side against Mitre. It is not clear whether Lopez was reading too much into Urquiza's state-

40

To the Bitter End

ments or whether the latter was deliberately stringing him along, but either way he had seriously misjudged the likely reactions to his request. Yet Lopez might have been less headstrong if he had been made aware of Mitre's current attitude toward the Brazilians. In October 1864, Mitre had assured Leal, the Brazilian minister in Buenos Aires, that he doubted that Paraguay would ever cross Argentine territory but that, if it did, this would cause Argentina "to combine defensive and offensive action with Brazil" against it. This would provide the opportunity "to consolidate the union of the two countries and the governments which, Brazilian as much as Argentine, are called together to accomplish great things for the development of progress and well-being of all the countries of the River Plate."1 Urquiza knew about this, but it is not clear whether he told Lopez. He also failed to tell him, as did Mitre, that in early 1865 the Brazilians had verbally asked for permission for their army to cross Corrientes to invade Paraguay, and had been quite upset when Mitre had refused. Both these pieces of information would have told Lopez that Argentina did not wish anyone to cross its territory and that, if Paraguay did, it could expect to provoke the alliance of the two large nations against it. It is just possible that Mitre deliberately disguised his intentions, hoping that Lopez would blunder into a war, which would give him an excuse to destroy his regime, but, to be fair, Lopez did not give him much time to do anything. To add to the confusion, Mitre chose almost to ignore the Paraguayan move into Misiones. He did ask for an explanation, but he did not push the matter when he received no reply, and this may have given Lopez the impression that Argentina would not resist the passage of Paraguayan troops across its territory. Yet this could easily have been taken as an excuse for war. and it seems that the Argentines, usually so eager to pick up on any of Lopez's misdemeanors, may have seen it as in their interests to keep the incursion quiet. Possibly they hoped that the Paraguayans would simply pass through on their way to Brazil and not oblige them to become involved in the war. If this was the case, then it raises questions over how strong their agreement with Brazil really was and also how anxious they were for war with Paraguay at this time. Once Lopez informed him of his intention to cross Corrientes, Urquiza started to backtrack and sent a representative. Julio Victorico, to Asuncion to dissuade him. He also showed his correspondence with Lopez to Mitre, as proof of his loyalty. When Lopez discovered that he could no longer rely on Urquiza, he angrily ended his conversation with Victorico with the portentous words, "then, if they provoke me. I will set events in motion."2 Whatever his motives for moving an army across Corrientes, he now knew that it would probably lead to war with Argentina and that he could not count on the loyalty of Urquiza. In Asuncion, the government used its usual techniques to raise the mood of the people against the Argentines. El Semanario ran articles condemning Buenos Aires for its refusal and eulogizing Lopez's diplomacy. More patriotic demonstrations and dances were organized and, most extraordinary of all, a congress was summoned, which dutifully declared war on Argentina on 18 March.

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The reasons given barely merit serious consideration, but, as recorded, they formed one of the most fateful documents in Paraguayan legal history. Argentina had refused Paraguay access to Corrientes after previously allowing Brazil a similar right; it had denied Paraguay's right to Misiones; it had given protection to Paraguayan traitors and had thus helped Brazil in its war with Paraguay, and it had not restrained its press from sympathizing with Brazil and attacking the government of Paraguay. Thompson considered the declaration to be outrageous and refused to defend the actions of his adopted country, and there is little that one can say in defense of Lopez. If he had cited Argentina's support for the Uruguayan rebels and therefore for Brazil in its war with Paraguay, then he may have had some slim justification, but he missed even this opportunity. It seemed to show not only Paraguay's desire for war—it could, after all, have crossed Corrientes and left it up to Argentina to decide whether to have a war or not—but also the alarmingly erratic mind of its leader, who appears to have acted more as a response to personal attacks in the newspapers than for any other reason of state. What supports this more than anything is that on 20 February 1865, Brazilian troops had entered Montevideo and installed Flores as the new leader. The war between Brazil and Uruguay was, apparently, over, and Lopez's actions were thus too late and largely pointless. The congress also insisted that Lopez did not leave the country during the war, and that he did not expose his life to danger, both of which, we can assume, were greatly to his liking. He was promoted to marshal, the first to hold this rank in the history of the country, and he was offered the enormous salary of 60,000 dollars a year, 15 times what his father had received. He graciously refused this allowance in the interests of the nation and repeated his rejection at the second time of asking. The congress, which in other respects would not have offered a word in contradiction of his wishes, showed sufficient courage to offer it to him a third time, or, if he would not take this, at least to accept a golden sword of honor at the nation's expense. This he did agree to, although mysteriously he ended up with the salary increase as well. No one saw fit to point out the error. The congress also approved his decision to declare war on Brazil, thereby legalizing his previous actions, and allowed him to conduct the war at his own discretion. He was permitted to set up a National Order of Merit, based on the French Legion d'honneur, with five grades, the most senior of which only he could hold and confer. This he did without undue delay. *** The town of Corrientes lies on the east bank of the Parana River, some 10 miles downstream from where it forks into the High Parana and the Paraguay, and the Republic of Paraguay begins. On the morning of 13 April 1865, five Paraguayan steamers appeared from out of the mist that was rising off the river. Inhabitants of the town, if they were awake and had their spyglasses trained on the boats, would have seen that they were packed with soldiers. The steamers sailed past the town but then did an about-turn and came back upriver between the shore and two Argentine ships, the Gualeguay and the 25 de Mayo, which

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were moored in the bay. George Miles, second engineer on the 25 de Mayo looked on in astonishment as the Ygurey smashed into the paddle wheel of his boat. Without warning, the Paraguayans opened fire with canister shot and then, moving closer to the ships, boarded them with grappling irons and nets. There was virtually no resistance from the surprised crews. Some were killed, some threw themselves into the river and swam for land, and about 49 were taken prisoner. The two Argentine boats were then towed back to Paraguay to join the national fleet. The next day the steamers returned and unloaded troops, who entered the town without encountering resistance. Within an hour the Paraguayan flag flew over the town hall while the Correntinos, apparently unaware that they were even at war, looked on bemusedly. News of the Paraguayan attack reached Buenos Aires on 17 April, to predictable reactions. The question of how much this came as a surprise to the Argentines is one that has been hotly debated. Although the Paraguayan congress had declared war on 18 March, Lopez had, no doubt for reasons of state, not transmitted this decision until the 29th of the month. The Argentines claimed that this information did not reach them until 3 May, and therefore the attack on Corrientes was treacherous and illegal. Since the news of the attack took only four days to reach the capital, it seems surprising that the declaration of war should have taken more than a month, and Thornton, British minister in Buenos Aires, was convinced that Elizalde knew about it as early as 4 April. There is a story of the Paraguayan officer entrusted with the declaration being arrested by the Argentines and not being able to deliver his message, but it seems surprising that these, if they had indeed captured him, did not see fit to read what he was carrying. It is also the case that the Brazilian squadron started to move upriver toward Paraguay on 5 April, with Argentine permission, between the declaration of war and the attack on Corrientes, which might suggest that Mitre was aware of the Paraguayan decision but Brazil did have its own business to settle with Paraguay, and this might not have been connected. It has been suggested that Mitre deliberately withheld news of the Paraguayan declaration, either because Argentina was militarily unprepared and he wanted to avoid recriminations if there were to be a disaster or because he wanted the Paraguayans to strike the first blow to give him more cause for retaliation. The argument is, in any case, a somewhat sterile one, since whether or not Mitre knew sooner of the declaration of war cannot disguise the fact that it was the Paraguayans who adopted an aggressive policy, and all that is really under discussion is the extent of their bad behavior. At any rate, the enthusiasm for revenge among the crowds in Buenos Aires seemed to take Mitre by surprise. For years the press had been whipping up a propaganda campaign against Paraguay, and more particularly against Lopez, and this seemed to have got to the hearts of the Argentine people, furious at this attack on their newly formed nation. This was surprising since, to the citizens of Buenos Aires, Corrientes itself had for decades occupied a similar position in

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their personal demonology. Spontaneous demonstrations took place, with crowds swarming into the streets, shouting imprecations against Paraguay. In an explosion of popular indignation, the coat of arms was torn from the Paraguayan consulate, along with a picture of Lopez, and both were thrown into the river. Excited crowds gathered outside Mitre's house, in a mixture of fervor and anger, demanding swift action. Anxious to placate the mob, Mitre uttered the famous words that he was almost immediately to regret: 'Tomorrow the barracks, one week Corrientes, three months Asuncion."3 He was, however, considerably less confident than these words suggest. His main worry was over the likely reaction of Urquiza, who had a strong influence with the other provinces and who might be after revenge. Fortunately for Mitre, Urquiza was a more subtle opponent who was aware that he held the balance of power. If he had sided with Lopez and actively supported the Paraguayan invasion, he could very possibly have marched on the capital and defeated Mitre. However, he did not trust Lopez and was aware that if the Paraguayan army did enter Buenos Aires, it was unlikely to be he who would be installed as leader. He therefore kept his options open, and, sending Victorico to Asuncion to treat with Lopez, he went himself to Buenos Aires to negotiate with Mitre. Lopez appears to have told Victorico that he would make Urquiza president of Argentina, while Mitre offered him a prestigious command in the Argentine army, which he accepted. Although, as will be seen, he eventually decided to stay out of the war, his decision not to help Lopez was critical. It deprived the Paraguayans of their predicted support in Argentina and prevented the formation of a league, which could have included the Blancos in Uruguay as well as other dissident Argentine provinces. It meant that Paraguay would fight alone, and that it would have to fight a defensive rather than an aggressive campaign. Urquiza later confided to Sir Richard Burton that if Lopez had only gone across Corrientes and not bothered to ask permission of the Argentine government or to have declared war on it, he would have supported the Paraguayans against Brazil. This may have been enough to have dissuaded Mitre from getting involved. In retrospect, this seems to confirm Lopez's foolishness in his aggressive confrontation with Argentina, although Washburn was convinced that such a course of action had been urged by Urquiza in the first place. Events now moved swiftly toward war. At this moment the steamer, Esmeralda, had recently left Buenos Aires, laden with arms from Europe for the Paraguayan army. Lopez had been urged to delay his declaration of war and his attack on Corrientes to allow this boat time to reach Paraguayan waters, but since Mitre had recently allowed the Salto, also carrying arms, to pass, he ignored this advice, and the Argentines now gleefully seized the boat and its contents. The Paraguayan representative, Egusquiza, frantically tried to convert all the Argentine paper money stocks in his consulate into coin and, more optimistically, attempted to raise a loan on the Buenos Aires money market for his country. The latter, at least, failed. The Brazilian squadron, which had been steadily sailing up the Parana, reached Goya on 10 April and declared the blockade of all Para-

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To the Bitter End

guayan ports. Since Paraguayan ships had complete freedom of maneuver as far as Goya, this was more theoretical than actual, but at least it prevented the arrival of any further supplies from Europe. The first Argentine battalions left for Corrientes on 24 April, and on 3 May the Argentine congress declared war on Paraguay. Before this, however, an event of greater significance had taken place. On 1 May, the foreign ministers of Argentina, Brazil, and Uruguay had signed a document, which they called the Treaty of the Triple Alliance. It was a rushed affair; the haste could be seen in the superficial nature of the legal wording and in contradictions in both the terms and the aims that underlay them. A study of the clauses, however, reveals that it was a treaty of much greater importance than simply an agreement to cooperate over the question of Paraguay, for it largely determined the nature and course of the subsequent war. The initial clauses were military ones and showed the need to satisfy the vanities of each of the subscribing nations. Article Three dealt with the sticky issue of who should be overall commander-in-chief. A formula was agreed, indicating that Mitre would be commander while operations were conducted in Argentina or in that part of Paraguay bordering Argentina, but the armies would be under Brazilian command, or Uruguayan, if the war were to take place in their territories. More controversially, the Brazilian fleet was to be independent of the military command of either country and could therefore do more or less what it wanted. The amount of military cooperation that each country should provide was left open, which raised the possibility that some partners might not pull their weight. More worrying, for Paraguay, were the political terms. The treaty stressed that the war would be aimed not against the Paraguayan people, but only against the government. Since the treaty was intended to remain secret, this was not even a crude attempt to encourage the Paraguayans to rebel against their government and thus end the war, but simply a way for the Allies to justify what they were about to do. This view is supported by the subsequent terms: the war would not end until Lopez had been removed, the Paraguayans would be made to pay for the entire cost of the conflict, and their defenses—notably Humaita, which could endanger future Argentine territory in the Chaco—would be destroyed and their armies demobilized. On top of this, the Brazilians demanded the settlement of the border dispute in their favor, which meant Paraguay ceding the disputed region down as far as the Apa River. But this was small fry in comparison to the demands of Argentina. For it insisted on the cession not just of the Misiones province in the north-east, but virtually the entire region of the Chaco in the north-west, as far north as Bahia Negra, which would mean that the west bank of the Paraguay River would be in Argentine hands and Asuncion within range of its guns. Anyone drawing the new borders of Argentina on the map, according to this treaty, would experience a case of deja vu: for staring back at them off the page would be, more or less, the old Viceroyalty of the River Plate.

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While historians have commented at length on this treaty and generally unfavorably toward Argentina, few seem to have understood its impact on the nature of the war. Perhaps this can best be understood by a consideration of what was missing. Nowhere was there a mention of Corrientes, nor of Mato Grosso, both then occupied by Paraguayan troops and both ostensibly the cause of the Triple Alliance. Perhaps this is because the true cause of the Triple Alliance was the desire of the Allies to subjugate and dismember the Paraguayan nation, for the treaty bore little or no resemblance to the offenses that had apparently inspired it. Lopez had indeed behaved illegally in his seizure of Corrientes from Argentina, and Brazil had every right to attempt the restoration of Mato Grosso. but the terms of the treaty went so far beyond rectification of these wrongs that it is clear that they initiated a new issue. The War of the Triple Alliance, if we are to use that term, was therefore a war over the partition of Paraguay, and that particular war began on 1 May 1865. This is not simply a facile denial of Paraguayan responsibility, but a necessary explanation for why the war continued into Paraguay and why it carried on long after both Argentina and Brazil had regained all their lost land. Not only were these aims aggressive, and at least the Allies had the decency to describe their alliance as offensive as well as defensive, but they were contradicted by another article (8), which stressed that Paraguay's independence, sovereignty, and territorial integrity would be respected. Removing so much of their land and forcing the people of that country to choose another government seemed to some a strange way of fulfilling this pledge, and it could be explained only by understanding that both Argentina and Brazil wanted to expand at the expense of Paraguay and to reduce it to little more than an impotent buffer zone. It takes no great effort to understand Argentina's reasons for signing this treaty. Ever since 1810 it had regarded Paraguay as being part of its inheritance, and it could therefore argue that in taking only half, it was actually being moderate in its demands. The foreign minister, Elizalde, did not bother hiding his intentions and proudly informed the British minister that he had personally drawn up the terms of the treaty, and that he wanted a new confederation in South America based on the boundaries of the old viceroyalty. A war with Paraguay would not only fit in with Mitre's aims for national consolidation, but would also support his ideological convictions by enabling him to wipe out caudillismo in the interior and arrive at a league of democratic, progressive nations that could live in peace with each other. History has been kind to Mitre, and probably rightly so. After all, he did represent the forces of change and liberalism that were sweeping through Europe and the Americas at this time, and which were later to become the accepted ideology. His ideas always seemed preferable to the backward, authoritarian behavior shown by Lopez and Urquiza. Yet the benevolence of his message should not blind us to the methods of its attainment. For all that Mitre was a man of letters and an urban sophisticate, he was also a warrior and, unlike Lopez, a

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real one. He had fought for his ideas at the head of his armies and in the thick of battle, and he was still prepared to go to any lengths to achieve them. His message may well have been a modern one, but the means by which he sought to send it were distinctly old-fashioned. The Brazilian motivation is perhaps more difficult to comprehend. They certainly wanted the boundary rectified to their advantage, as well as freedom of navigation of the rivers, giving them guaranteed access to Mato Grosso, which they also wanted restored. There was also an ideological conviction, particularly in the mind of the emperor, that Lopez, and those like him, must go. However, this does not explain why Brazil should have acceded to Argentina's huge increase in territory, which would have effectively subordinated Paraguay to the machinations of its rival. The problem for Brazil was that it could not have fought this war alone. Even assuming that Argentina would remain neutral and would allow Brazilian ships up the Parana, it still needed a forward base, somewhere like Corrientes, from which to launch its attack into Paraguay. Thus it appears that Brazil acceded to Argentina's wishes, both because it enabled it to press its own territorial claims and because it was one way of guaranteeing that Argentina would remain on its side and enable it to fight the war. This also seems to have been the reason why it was prepared to allow Mitre to be commander-in-chief. The Uruguayan motivation was more clear-cut. Flores certainly felt he owed a debt of gratitude to the Brazilians and to Mitre, and it is doubtful how independent his decisions really were at this time, for when the latter tried to persuade him to link his army to Argentina's, he replied that he had already made "solemn agreements"4 with Brazil. Montevideo was a useful staging point for Brazilian ships, as, in the early days, were the ports of Salto and Paysandu on the Uruguay River. Flores undoubtedly relished the glory that such a war would bring to him and his country, though not all shared his opinion. His foreign minister, Castro, was horrified by the terms of the treaty and raised objections that delayed the process of its signing. Overruled by his government, Castro—either intentionally or not—secured his revenge in spectacular fashion when he sent the text of the secret treaty to the British minister in Montevideo, Letsome. The latter sent it to the British Foreign Office, where it was debated in Parliament, before being published. There it reached world attention and an initial storm of indignation.

7 The Military Balance

At first glance the two sides might have presented a rather unbalanced scenario for a future war, as a mere look at the map would suggest that the huge countries of Argentina and Brazil could swallow up Paraguay with little or no problem. Yet this was not the perception at the time. Paraguay, it was known, was a unified and disciplined country, with natural borders that could easily be defended. More particularly, it was believed that it had a huge army. There is considerable debate over the size of the Paraguayan armed forces in 1864, and since the Allies had their own reasons for exaggerating, to make it appear to their populations, and the world at large, that Paraguay represented a genuine danger, it is difficult to arrive at precise figures. The English chemist, Masterman, suggested a total of 100,000 soldiers, whereas Paraguayan historians later put the number as low as 38,000. There is also confusion over whether these figures were meant to encompass all Paraguayan soldiers, including the militia and those on the retired list, or whether they referred merely to the regular army. The most detailed numbers that can be found, which represent something of a mean between these two contrasting claims, show that in 1864 Paraguay had a standing army of about 13,300 men and could call on 16,700 trained, but retired, soldiers, as well as 43,950 militia. Following the conscription decree of January 1864, which involved the call-up of all these units, it can be assumed that by the beginning of 1865 Paraguay probably had an army of some 70,000 men. This was a highly impressive force in comparison with the strength of its enemies. In Argentina, the regular army was only about 6,000 strong, with some 6,000 extra men from the National Guard available for service. Brazil was not

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much better off; it had a standing army of about 14,000, with 25,000 in the reserve, while Uruguay probably only had about 2,000 to 2,500 men. Therefore, at the time that Lopez was declaring war on the various countries of the Triple Alliance, together they could muster only about 55.000 men. Moreover, Paraguay's army was mobilized and ready to move, while those of the alliance countries were scattered, disorganized, and hardly in a fit state for war. This seems to support the view, therefore, that at least in military terms Lopez did pose a threat to stability in the region, and that claims by Argentina and Brazil that they feared the power of the relatively diminutive state of Paraguay were partly genuine. The numbers of men, of course, mean little by themselves, for the caliber of the soldiers was also an important factor, but here Paraguay had an even greater advantage. The nature of its society meant that the soldiers were loyal and, for whatever reason, well motivated. Fear of Lopez was undoubtedly a major cause of their unity, but their patriotism should not be underestimated. As a downside, this mass conscription inevitably included those who were unwilling, unfit, and possibly disloyal, but this was true of all armies. One major problem with the soldiery was revealed, however, when many found themselves unable to withstand the rigors of military life, and it is possible that as many as 6,000 recruits died in Cerro Leon in 1864 while undergoing training. Furthermore, Paraguayan soldiers had almost no practical military experience, having not fought any actions either external or internal, apart from those few thousand who had engaged in the Mato Grosso campaign. Experience of war was one thing that Argentine soldiers did not lack. Whether fighting for their country in the many Indian wars raging along the frontiers throughout the early years of independence or for their caudillo against the central government in the civil wars that seemed equally frequent, many of those in the regular army were battle-hardened. Yet this advantage paled in comparison with their many faults. Morale was extremely low, and the vice president in 1865 bemoaned the lack of patriotism and desire to join up to serve the country. Before conscription, most soldiers would have been either foreigners or destinados—basically layabouts or convicts who were forced into the ranks. Service in the army was regarded by many local magistrates as an alternative to prison, and for the soldiers themselves it was not an attractive one. Desertions were rife, and the story that in 1865 Argentine soldiers had to be brought to the front in chains may well have had more than an inkling of truth. In short, the Argentine army gave few indications that it could have held out on its own against a concentrated attack from the Paraguayans. The Brazilian army, although not plumbing these depths, was not much better. Since 1828, its status and upkeep had been declining, and consequently discipline had suffered. Frequent memoranda from the ministers of war from 1858 onwards tried to draw attention to this problem, but the government seemed to take the view that diplomacy rather than warfare was the most important method of conducting foreign policy. The size of the army was an illusion, as, given the

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huge extent of the country's borders, it meant that nowhere was particularly well defended. Soldiers tended to be garrisoned on the frontiers in small groups, and it was reported that some did not even know who their officers were. The crisis in Uruguay evidently concentrated minds, and in 1863 the military budget was increased dramatically, but the fact that it took four months for Brazil to mobilize enough troops to take on the minute Uruguayan army shows that in practice its forces were not as strong as their numbers suggested. The Uruguayan army was so small that it barely merited the name, and it suffered from many of the problems of its allies. Like the country's population, many of its soldiers were foreign mercenaries, and it too had recourse to outlaws and criminals to fill the ranks. One advantage was that its soldiers were used to fighting, since the country had been in a state of either civil or international war almost since independence. The soldiers were notoriously warlike and ruthless, and there was perhaps a measure of patriotism and pride that held them together, yet only in conjunction with the other two powers did the country pose any threat to Paraguay. In terms of leadership, all the countries had similar problems. The main one was the lack of any general staff to plan strategy and coordinate the different arms. The Allies, in particular, had plenty of officers who were experienced in warfare, but their senior commanders had really only directed small-scale operations with limited objectives, and had no experience in the deployment of huge armies, nor in their equipment and feeding, nor in the planning of a long-lasting and major war. Paraguay was even worse off in this respect. Under Francia, no one had been allowed a rank higher than captain, and there were only a handful of colonels by the start of the war. None of these had any experience or military knowledge, and their commander, Lopez himself, had to rely mainly on what he had read in books. However, the Paraguayans may have had an advantage in that their officers had to experience life in the ranks and were promoted to their position on merit, rather than breeding. This meant that they had an automatic respect from their subordinates—which was, indeed, taken to extremes, with soldiers referring to their officers as "father" and to Lopez as the "Great Father." Although in the allied armies there was some movement between the ranks and the officer class, the nature of society meant that there were clear social distinctions. In the small regular armies, the officers were generally well trained and capable, but at the start of the war the need to call up the National Guard meant the inclusion of many officers who were quite unsuitable for their roles. Particularly in Brazil, officer rank was normally purchased and was the domain of the local gentry who regarded the position as a social rather than a military one. Many proved inadequate and after the initial battles had to be retrained or removed. Nevertheless, the conditions of the fighting and the terrain, together with the problems of supply, meant that officers had to share discomforts with the men. This caused the class distinction to become blurred as time went on, resulting, arguably, in greater mutual regard.

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To the Bitter End

The lack of training facilities in their respective countries meant that many of these officers were poorly equipped for commanding their troops. From 1860, officer training academies were set up in Buenos Aires, although only those garrisoned in the city or surrounding area could take advantage of them. Most officer cadets were expected to learn on the job. In Brazil the situation was better and, from 1860, proper military schools were instituted, with formal curricula. There was a two-year course in the preparatory school, which trained officers for both the infantry and cavalry, and later more specialist education in the arm to which they were attached. This included the setting up of a staff college. In Paraguay, where there was only one secondary school in the whole country, there was little opportunity for officers to learn the theoretical background to their trade. However, Lopez set up provisional academies in the main military centers at Cerro Leon, Paso de la Patria, and Humaita to overcome this deficiency, and in 1863 he ordered 2,000 copies of Marshal Marmont's L'Esprit des institutions militaires to be translated into Spanish for the use of his officers. In military equipment, there was little to distinguish between the two sides at the start of the war. Most remarkable was the range of weaponry in all the armies, since rapid technological advances after the Napoleonic wars meant that new types of firearm and artillery were emerging all the time. South American armies tended to be more backward, since the Europeans chose to offload on them their out-of-date stock to make way for more modern varieties. Paraguay had been upgrading its military resources since Carlos Antonio Lopez had realized the need for better and more equipment in the 1840s, and so it was comparatively well stocked at the outset. However, as time went on, the blockade of the rivers was to mean that it was unable to secure extra weaponry and munitions, other than what it could make itself, whereas the Allies had continued access to overseas sources of supply. The basic infantry weapon, at least for the Paraguayans, was the musket, but there was a considerable variation in type. The most old-fashioned kind, a leftover from the Napoleonic wars, was the smooth-bore, muzzle-loading flintlock, and this was only slowly giving way to the modern breech-loading rifle. Although by the end of the war the Allies were mainly armed with the latter, for the most part a mixture of different types was to be found in all the armies. This, of course, caused innumerable problems with the supply of matching ammunition, as well as difficulties in assessing the rate of fire and the range at which the majority of weapons would be effective. For both sides, cavalry was still an important and much-used arm. Their main weapons of choice were the saber, and a lance that was between seven and ten feet long. Cavalry might also use short-barreled carbines—some flintlock, some breech-loading—but these tended to be unpopular and, if carried at all, were usually worn over the rider's back. The lance and saber may have been oldfashioned, as indeed was the whole concept of cavalry, but the sight of a fullblooded charge led by the cold steel of these weapons was frequently enough to

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disperse infantry formations that should, in theory, easily have been able to withstand them. Other, less conventional, weapons were also employed, such as the lasso, and the bolas—a throwing device with stones attached to lengths of rope, which was whirled around the head and then flung, being designed to wrap around a horse's legs to bring the rider down or around the rider himself to cause injury. The main problem for the cavalry, and this was to be the case for both sides, was that the South American pony—small and weak in comparison with European breeds—was largely unsuitable for the task. Notwithstanding the lack of forage and the neglect that was invariably their lot, these horses could barely sustain a gallop, let alone the forced marches that they were obliged to undertake. A common sight in South America was that of a gaucho trailing two or three spare horses, with good reason, for he could not trust his life to just the one. The third arm, which in this war was to have huge significance, was the artillery, and here again there was little to distinguish between the different sides. At the start of the war all the artillery was muzzle-loaded and most was smoothbore, although gradually rifled guns became more popular because of their greater range and accuracy. In 1864, Argentina had about 250 smooth-bore guns, Uruguay had 8, and Brazil had several hundred, as well as some rifled ones. Paraguay had approximately 400, but although Lopez had ordered more from France and Prussia, the blockade ensured that these remained in Europe throughout the war. One of the main difficulties with the artillery was dragging it through the appalling terrain, including muddy roads, thick undergrowth, palm forests, and swollen rivers, as well as transporting the large amounts of heavy shot. The problems were exacerbated by many of the guns having small wheels with rubber tires, which were inappropriate for the conditions. Horses, mules, and oxen were needed for this purpose, but when they became weak through hunger and exhaustion, the movement of artillery became a real problem, particularly when the war became more mobile. In naval terms—and if the war was to be fought on the rivers then this was to be significant—Paraguay was at a disadvantage. It could muster 17 small steamers, but most of these were passenger boats whose boilers were above the waterline and therefore vulnerable to enemy shelling. Each steamer was armed with up to four 32-pound guns. Only the flagship, Tacuary, was a purpose-built ironclad gunboat, and this was really the only serious rival to the allied fleet. The Brazilians, in the early days of the war, could muster 17 ships, with a total of 103 guns. These were mainly screw-driven, though some were paddle steamers, which were more vulnerable. At first they were wooden, but gradually they were given iron protection. Argentina had four ships that could be used for the purposes of war, and Uruguay none. The crucial difference, however, was that Paraguay had virtually reached the limit of its naval potential at the start of the war, whereas the Triple Alliance powers had the opportunity to buy ships from elsewhere to increase their navies.

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To the Bitter End

Also relevant to an assessment of the relative strengths of the two sides at the start of the war is a consideration of their capacity for waging a long campaign. Here. Paraguay was at a distinct disadvantage. Its population is not known accurately for the 1860s, with estimates ranging from 350,000 to 1.5 million, but it is probably fair to say that it was under 500,000. In comparison, Argentina had 1.2 million. Brazil had between 8 and 10 million and Uruguay had 200,000. Therefore, the alliance powers could call on much greater reserves of manpower for their armies than could Paraguay. Equally important was that the Allies had the ability to maintain economic production while still waging a war, while Paraguay had committed almost its entire male population to military purposes at the outset. This meant that agriculture was in the hands of women, as was some of the production of military supplies, such as uniforms, leather goods, and so on. Because of the blockade, Paraguay had to be entirely self-sufficient in food and equipment, whereas the alliance could get whatever it needed from abroad, including manpower. Thus, if Paraguay was going to win the war, it seemed obvious that it would have to do so quickly, for it would be unable to keep going for any length of time. This advantage for the alliance might be countered, however, by the political motivation of the people. It seemed clear that the war would be costly in both economic and human terms, and therefore the relevant populations had to be behind it and committed to its success. For Paraguay, this was no problem. Either through willingness or coercion, the Paraguayan people were almost completely in favor of the war and could be virtually guaranteed to support the government. This was certainly not the case in Argentina, where from the start the position of Urquiza was in the balance and, as was to be seen, the reactions of the other provinces were far from loyal. Mitre could simply not commit large numbers of troops to the war, both because some provinces refused to supply them and because he needed some to maintain internal order. Following its civil war. Uruguay, too, was internally divided and could not guarantee its full support. While Brazil was apparently united and behind the war, the imperial government was nevertheless weak and had to rely on the loyalty of caudillos and its military commanders, whom it did not always trust. Therefore in this sense the longer the war went on, the more likely it would be that the populations of the alliance powers would become bored or actively dissatisfied with its continuation, and this might favor Paraguay. In summary, it can be seen that Paraguay was much better equipped to fight a war against its two major neighbors than might have been supposed. In fact, in the eyes of some observers it was even expected to win. Yet this depended on what Lopez's aims were. If he really was attempting an aggressive war of conquest in which he would make himself "Emperor of the Plate."1 as some have suggested, then it would have to be done quickly, and it would have to be done with allies. Without the support of Argentine provinces and perhaps the Blancos in Uruguay, he could certainly not have installed himself in Buenos Aires. If his

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aim was to win a few morale-boosting victories, such as those in the Mato Grosso campaign, and then negotiate with Brazil and Argentina over limits from a position of strength, then he may have had the initial power to do this, and could have succeeded in establishing secure boundaries and respect for Paraguay. There is no evidence, however, that Lopez really knew what he wanted, and it does not seem likely that he envisaged embroiling his country in a defensive war of survival.

8 Conscripts and Volunteers: May to June 1865

In the allied countries, the early part of 1865 was spent recruiting men for the armed forces. In Buenos Aires, Mitre's appeals for volunteers had not fallen on deaf ears. Many educated and wealthy young men from good families, who could quite easily have used their connections to avoid the call-up, willingly signed on in the local offices of the National Guard. Among them were Francisco Paz, son of the vice president, and Dominguito Sarmiento, son of the future president of the nation, as well as Jose de Elizalde, younger brother of the foreign minister. Julio A. Roca, himself later president of Argentina, did likewise. The letters and diaries of these men showed the extent of their patriotic fervor as they embarked on the great adventure, perhaps glad to obtain honor in war against a foreign, rather than domestic, enemy. Not everyone shared their views, however, and in the provinces the reaction was often very different. Lopez Jordan, second to Urquiza in Entre Rios, refused to provide any men, as did Jose Posse, governor of Tucuman. Buenos Aires, it has to be said, provided the bulk of the Argentine volunteers. Before long, all three of the allied countries resorted to conscription, with varying degrees of success. While both Argentina and Uruguay swept their prisons clean of likely cannon fodder, Brazil called up the National Guard for active service, though this was to prove a mixed blessing, since many of their officers had almost no military experience and proved unsuitable, while others bought their way out by arranging for substitutes to do their service for them. Yet Brazil showed a more enlightened approach in creating the Volunteers of the Fatherland, which allowed men to enroll in whichever arm they wanted and, as far as possible, alongside their friends.

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Not just for the youth, but perhaps for the countries themselves, the war represented something of a coming of age. For Argentina and Uruguay, barely out of swaddling clothes as independent and integrated nations, it was a chance to gain that military honor and sense of history that they lacked. For the Brazilians, it was an opportunity to test the national army in a real war, and finally to show themselves as allies, rather than outsiders, to the other South American nations. The demonic figure of Lopez provided an enemy that they could all easily understand, and in those exuberant months the war took on the guise almost of a crusade. The allied camp at Ayui Chico, just south of Concordia on the Uruguay River, was vast, since it held large units from each of the three countries, and to begin with the Brazilian soldiers, especially those from the north, found its climate unbearable. July is midwinter in South America, and these men were not used to the cold. Although they did have tents, they had very little other equipment or suitable clothing to keep them warm, and they began to die in alarming numbers. A police battalion from the northern state of Para was especially hard hit and declined in strength from 450 to little more than 20 fit men in less than a month. They were also weakened by the training, since they were considerably unfit and unused to the running and forced marches, and this brought them low and made them less resistant to disease. So great was the loss of men that the Brazilians even had to cut down on the training in order to conserve their numbers. The drills and tactics that made up the daily rou ine were based on military manuals that were similar in each of the allied armies and were mostly left over from the days of the Spanish. In 1862, the Brazilians had adopted a slightly more modern Portuguese manual, but in general the Allies could combine easily, even though their training was done separately. What were referred to as tactics— basically the column, line, and square formations for the infantry—were really little more than parade-ground maneuvers, often appearing more like choreographed routines than practical battle techniques. In fact, soldiers were meant to behave on the battlefield very much as they did on parade—a practice that may have made them easy targets but did contribute to good discipline and control while in action. These movements, however, could be exceedingly complicated, and many officers decided to make up their own simplified maneuvers, though these created confusion when units had to be amalgamated and different soldiers had different ideas on what to do. Colonel Leon Palleja, commander of the Florida battalion of the Uruguayan army, soon became depressed by conditions in the camp. Typhus and dysentery had taken hold, and his men were beginning to fall ill. The weather, too, started to take its toll. The storms that year were reckoned to be the worst ever known. They were akin to tropical downpours but lasted for days on end. On one occasion, lightning killed three Brazilian soldiers, and frequently the gusts of wind accompanying the storms would tear the thin tents to shreds. The accommodation for the soldiers was inadequate and the tents leaked and blew away easily, so that in a short while many had to sleep completely exposed to the elements.

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To the Bitter End

Mitre's decision to choose the River Uruguay as the assembly point for the allied armies seems, at first glance, to have been a strange one, since at the time the decision was made, on 24 May, the main threat appeared to come from the Paraguayan army on the River Parana. His reasons were mainly military, but also political and personal. From his letters, it seems he was convinced that the attack would be two-pronged, and that the Paraguayans would later cross Misiones, where they were currently assembling an army, move down the west bank of the River Uruguay, and then combine with their army on the Parana to threaten Buenos Aires. He possibly hoped that Argentine forces would be strong enough to cope with both Paraguayan columns on their own, and thus he could effectively win the war without needing the help of either of his allies. A reunion of the armies at Concordia, rather than on the River Parana, would ensure that the Brazilians, in particular, were kept well away from the action and from his capital. Whereas the war council of 1 May had initially agreed that the Brazilians and Uruguayans could camp on their side of the River Uruguay, Mitre now insisted that they meet on Argentine territory, perhaps because this made better military sense, in terms of communications and control, but also because it ensured that he would be undisputed commander-in-chief of all the allied forces. The Allies spent two and a half months at Concordia, which, although causing considerable frustration among the troops, who were itching to get their hands on the Paraguayans and end the war quickly, did have the benefit of raising certain problems that they could begin to deal with while on their home territory. The major difficulty was that of supply. Despite the distance involved, the Brazilians, either through better organization or more money, tended to be the best resourced of the three armies. Their men had meat—approximately one steer for every 60 men per day—supplemented by rice, flour, biscuit, and salt. This hardly seems a comprehensive diet, but it was a banquet compared to what the other Allies enjoyed. The Argentines, in theory, had one steer for every 40-50 men per day, but they had absolutely nothing else to supplement it. The Uruguayans were so badly organized that they could not guarantee even this and often had to resort to begging from their allies. The problem was that these armies were not equipped to fight long wars away from home, and thus their quartermasters, if they even had them, were completely inexperienced in obtaining provisions. The Argentine army theoretically had a general war commissariat, but in the early days this concentrated on supplying uniforms rather than food. As for the latter, the obvious source of supply was meat on the hoof, of which there was a huge quantity, but getting it to the army seemed strangely beyond the capabilities of this organization. This was partly due to a lack of understanding of the problem, although Mitre soon made his government aware of it, but also to the corruption and inefficiency of the suppliers. In the early days, the army signed contracts and expected meat to be delivered, which it rarely was. It was also suggested that certain commanders were bribed to declare that they had received more meat than they really had. The suppliers

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quickly realized that they could make a killing out of inflating the prices for beef, and initially the Argentine government refused to pay such sums, although eventually they had to give in. Urquiza, who owned much of the land in Entre Rios, which was mainly devoted to cattle raising, made a fortune by these means. The Uruguayan army not only had no general staff and no commissariat but, according to Palleja, very little concern for its soldiers either. His diary, which was published in the form of letters to a major Montevideo newspaper, raised some awareness of the problems but provoked little response, and he had to spend much of his time begging for food. His battalion, even in camp, often went for days without eating, which, considering the amount of available cattle within easy distance, was scandalous. Flores, at first, tried bargaining with his suppliers, but fed up with their cheating he eventually decided to requisition what he wanted, with the promise to pay for it after the war. As time went on, the system became properly organized, although, ironically, it was only when the allied armies reached Paraguay, at the furthest point from the source of supply, that they became equipped and fed on a more regular basis. It was not surprising, in these circumstances, that so many soldiers fell ill. In their weakened state, as a result of the climate, the unusual demands of the physical training, and the poor diet, many succumbed rapidly to the diseases that swept through the allied camps. Once ill, it was mainly fortune that decided their fate, for there was little at that stage that the army provided for their comfort and cure. Technically, the Argentines had a military medical corps, but this consisted of only 13 surgeons, and the supply of drugs and bandages was haphazard. The Brazilians had a sanitary service and had set up a military hospital in Buenos Aires for soldiers who were fit enough to make it there, but in these early days there was little done on an organized basis. In the Uruguayan army, predictably, there was nothing, and Palleja had to set up a hospital himself and persuade a local German surgeon to come and help. Although the account of health and supply services is a grim one, students of European wars will be aware that, in practice at least, the South Americans were not significantly worse in organization at this time than their apparently more sophisticated counterparts. *** Meanwhile Lopez's attempts to encourage an uprising in Corrientes were proving less successful than he had hoped. When General Wenceslas Robles disembarked with his army on 14 April, he had waited outside the town, expecting a delegation of joyous inhabitants to welcome him in as a liberator. Instead, they had carried on about their business and ignored him completely. The Argentine governor, Lagrana, had fled the city, declaring that anyone who showed support for Lopez or obeyed his laws was a traitor, and in his place Lopez named Robles—an appointment that the general received with undisguised, and rather untactiul, amusement. Under him, a triumvirate was formed to set about the practical administration of the captured territory. Foreign Minister Berges was sent as one of the triumvirs, and he proved to be the de facto ruler of the area.

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To the Bitter End

At first, the Paraguayans behaved more or less in their self-appointed role as liberators, respecting people and property and allowing anyone to leave if they wanted to. However, as time went on, they took to stealing cattle, goods, and horses as well as taking control of the archives and forcing the locals to accept Paraguayan paper money in exchange for their goods. Commander Kennedy, of the Royal Navy, on one of his trips up the Parana River, noted burnt and ravaged farms and heard stories of looting and murder. Despite the efforts of Lopez, the Correntinos took little notice of their new government, and the Paraguayans ruled purely through the power of their army rather than by the consent of the people. If Lopez's aim had been to provoke a general uprising in the northern Argentine provinces, followed by the formation of a league against the governments of Buenos Aires and Rio de Janeiro, he should have been aware by the middle of April that his plans had failed. Corrientes, at least, was not impressed. Nevertheless, this was either not made clear to him, or else he remained unmoved, because he now embarked on the second part of his invasion plan. In early May, Robles was ordered to leave a garrison of some 1,500 men in Corrientes and then move down the east bank of the Parana River toward Bella Vista. On the way, he was harassed by Correntino troops under General Caceres, but the latter chose to avoid a pitched battle, given the strength of the Paraguayan forces. Already on 4 May, General Paunero had reached the town with an Argentine army, but, hearing of the Paraguayan advance, he reembarked his troops and steamed further south. Many of the town's inhabitants also chose to flee, and on the 20th Robles took control of Bella Vista without a fight. Paunero, however, was annoyed at having to cede ground to the enemy, and he decided, apparently on his own initiative, to strike back. Since the Brazilians had ships available, he determined to make a surprise attack against the town of Corrientes, striking to the rear of Robles's advancing troops. He therefore loaded approximately 2,000 infantry on board two Argentine steamers, as well as two batteries of artillery, and he sailed upstream with—surprisingly, in view of its later reluctance to attempt anything hazardous—the Brazilian fleet in support. Just north of the town, on a beach below the river cliffs, there was a landing place, and on the top a grassy area led to a large brick building, which was being used by the Paraguayans as a barracks. On sighting the ships, the garrison, oddly, decided that this barracks was the best place from which to repel the landing. At about 2 P.M., supported by artillery fire from the squadron, Colonel Charlone climbed the cliffs at the head of his men and launched the attack—rather too hastily, as it turned out, since the soldiers were now directly in front of the ships and his own cannon were forced to fall silent. Argentine soldiers poured into the barracks, and desperate hand-to-hand fighting took place within the confined space. The Paraguayans resisted valiantly and managed to kill many of their attackers, even wounding Charlone with a saber blow to the face. Greater numbers told, however, and gradually they were forced out, retreating to the one bridge that crossed the Araza stream. They had set up cannon to guard this point, and as the Argentines attacked, they opened fire. It was here that the battle was at

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its fiercest, as the Paraguayans stubbornly refused to withdraw and carried on fighting instinctively, even after their officers had been killed. The Argentines' initial assault was repulsed, but they finally took the bridge with a fierce bayonet charge, and the Paraguayans retired toward Corrientes, still fighting desperately. The battle continued until dark, when the Argentine army entered the town. In the meantime the Brazilian squadron, unable to support its allies by the bridge, had sailed back to the town and had begun to shell it in a somewhat listless fashion. Since most of the Paraguayans were now involved in the battle, the few casualties from this bombardment were the hapless Correntino townspeople. All told, the Paraguayans lost almost 400 killed and wounded in the battle, and the Allies over 300, most of them piled up around the bridge where the fighting had been at its most intense. If Paunero had been able to capitalize on this victory and hold Corrientes, he could have cut off Robles's army and, with reinforcements, have created serious problems for the Paraguayans. Unfortunately for him, the expedition was a surprise even to his own side, and no help was forthcoming. He now heard rumors of extra Paraguayan battalions being landed to the north, and, realizing that his force was in no state to resist these, nor the expected return of Robles, he decided to evacuate the town. The next day he took on board all those who wished to flee and then steamed away, leaving Corrientes once again in the hands of the enemy. The expedition had not been authorized by Mitre and at first glance seemed almost an irrelevant waste of time and lives. Yet it had a positive effect on Argentine morale, enabling some of its soldiers to see action for the first time and achieving a victory that was to sustain the country in the months ahead. It also reversed the trend of Paraguayan successes and showed Lopez the danger of stretching his lines of communication, as well as demonstrating that his control over Corrientes was far from secure. His subsequent decision to recall Robles and apparently abandon his invasion of Argentina was almost certainly influenced by it.

9 The Invasion of Argentina: June 1865

For the time being, however, it seemed that Lopez was intent on expanding the scope of the conflict. As early as April 1864. during the mobilization of his army, he had ordered Major Pedro Duarte to raise a force at Villa Encarnacion on the south-eastern border of the country. By the beginning of 1865, Duarte had over 12,500 men under arms, including 7.000 infantry and 3,000 cavalry. On 16 January 1865. before Uruguay had fallen to Flores and two days after Lopez had made his request for the Paraguavan army to cross Argentina, Duarte quietlv moved this force across the River Parana and into the disputed territorv of Misiones. Not only was there very little mention of the incursion in the press of either Argentina or Brazil, but it did not inspire any military preparations either. This was extraordinary in Brazil's case, since it would have been logical to assume that Paraguayan forces would soon cross into Rio Grande do Sul and march down toward Uruguay. The Brazilians may have felt that it would be difficult to split their forces and perhaps saw this as a diversionary tactic, much like the Mato Grosso campaign, which had inspired a similar lack of interest, but the result of such inaction was to leave their southern province wide open to attack. A further curiosity was Lopez's own intentions. His army was ready at least to threaten Brazil by the middle of January, when the war in Uruguay was still in progress and there was a possibility that his help could have tipped the balance. Yet he kept quiet until May. when the Blancos had been defeated and his position seemed much weaker. Perhaps he wanted to wait until the army he was preparing for the invasion of Corrientes was fully ready, so that he could embark on a two-pronged campaign, but it seems more likely that he was simply dither-

The Invasion of Argentina

til-

ing, as he had done all the way through 1864, over whether to support the Blancos. He probably had no clear, aggressive plan, and he simply preferred to wait upon circumstances. His move into Misiones mav have been merelv to provoke Brazil, and possibly Argentina too. into doing something, or at least to test their reactions. His long-term strategy is virtually incomprehensible, and a picture emerges less of an aggressive, conquering warrior than of a hesitant, hopeful individual who happened to have a large army at his disposal but no real idea of what to do with it. Since there is apparently no record of Lopez's real plans, there is plenty of opportunity for speculation. One report of the war council at Cerro Leon suggested that the main aim of the incursions into Corrientes, and later Rio Grande, was little more than to bring in cattle and horses, presumably both to deny them to the enemy and to equip Paraguay for a defensive war. This was borne out by events, since the Paraguayans of both armies spent a large amount of time rounding up livestock, as well as booty and plunder, from the farms and towns along their way. Indeed, the behavior of the Paraguayan troops was more like that of raiders than of permanent occupiers, for they did little to make themselves popular or try to win the hearts and minds of the people. Despite this, it is likely that Lopez still hoped that he could inspire revolts in Corrientes and other provinces, though what he aimed to achieve if they did join him can only be guessed at. The former Uruguayan minister in Asuncion, Sagastume. took delight in claiming that Lopez had revealed to him his master plan. This was that Robles would march down the Parana, beating the Argentine forces that came against him, while raising the northern provinces against the government, as well as preventing any reinforcements from interfering with the main invading force under Duarte. This would move down through Rio Grande to Uruguay ana before turning east toward the coast, at which point the Brazilians would gladlv make peace. There would have been a certain sense to this plan, especially in the assumption that Lopez was planning only a limited war without the need to hold on to territory for any length of time, and this would explain the behavior of the Paraguayan troops. However, it is doubtful that Lopez had intended to invade Argentina at all, at least until March 1865, since he seemed initially unprepared for the task, and it was two months from the date of the Argentine refusal to let him cross its territory before he was ready to move against Corrientes. If we can attribute to Lopez a rational way of thinking, then his aim of exploiting the turbulent situation in the region and creating as much mischief as possible to raise the bargaining power of his country in any future peace would seem to have been the most logical one. At any rate, on 5 May, Colonel Antonio Estigarrfbia. a personal favorite of Lopez, was sent to take over control of Duarte" s army, with orders to cross Misiones and later the River Uruguay and to invade the Brazilian province of Rio Grande do Sul. The movements of Estigarrfbia at least fitted in with those of Robles. who was ordered at this time to move south down the River Parana, and

62

To the Bitter End

although the two armies were too far apart and too separated by difficult terrain to be mutually supporting, there does seem to have been some plan of Lopez to make these maneuvers coincide. On his way through Misiones to the Uruguay River, Estigarribia chose to split his command, and he sent Duarte with 3,200 men—mixed infantry and cavalry—southwards by an inland route while he headed straight for the river. This movement seems to have at last stirred the Brazilians into action, and Generals Caldwell and Canabarro moved up to the Sao Borja district with about 2,500 recruits. Canabarro's request for proper weapons and equipment had been ignored, and thus the province was almost defenseless in the face of a Paraguayan invasion. Yet, rather than move quickly across the river, Estigarribia appears to have been told to wait around for almost a month, possibly to coordinate with the movements of Robles. At any rate, it was not until 10 June that he began to cross the river—not at Garruchos, as he had been ordered, but further south at Sao Borja. At approximately the same time, Robles, who was marching down through Corrientes, entered the town of Goya on the banks of the Parana. Before his arrival, the townspeople had abandoned their houses and moved to some of the islands in the river. This was the furthest south the Paraguayans reached, and there is evidence that it was further even than Lopez had intended, for in a dispatch of 26 May he appears to have tried to recall his commander, almost certainly because of the Argentine raid on Corrientes. The telegraph message of 26 May is one of the few indications of Lopez's plans at this time. It is an ambiguous document, and failure to understand it correctly was to cost Robles his life. Evidently written in haste, after news of the attack on Corrientes had reached him and while the enemy was still encamped in the city, the dispatch outlined the dire situation and gave orders to Robles to abandon his march south and return to Corrientes without delay. It gave him a choice of routes and emphasized that his army was not required to dislodge the Argentines, as that could be done by other forces, but stressed that he was to waste no time. However, Lopez prefaced these instructions with the words "in this situation,"1 which apparently caused Robles to believe that the subsequent Argentine evacuation of the town had changed the situation and thereby made the orders irrelevant. He thus delayed and asked Lopez for further instructions in view of the new state of affairs. Lopez's reply, on 1 June, was quite definite: Robles was to retire to Corrientes, as his delay had upset Paraguayan plans, though he did not explain what these were. It is possible that Robles's misunderstanding was genuine, though his behavior was admittedly strange. He waited a whole three days before questioning the meaning of the orders, and when he did receive confirmation, by Lopez's second telegraph, instead of moving back, he led his army further south, to occupy Goya, and he did not start to obey the orders until the 7th. Lopez had become convinced that Robles intended to betray his army to the Argentines, and Thompson reckoned that this rumor was believed by many in the Paraguayan

Paraguayan invasions, May-December 1865

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To the Bitter End

camp. Robles had, in fact, received letters from Fernando Iturburu, a leader of the Paraguayan legion of exiles that was being formed in Buenos Aires, but he had handed these on to Lopez. There is little evidence to suggest that he really was a traitor, although Mitre, while unsuccessfully trying to suborn Duarte, referred tantalizingly to another, unnamed, Paraguayan leader whom he was going to try to persuade to change sides. Robles's return to Corrientes, and his fate, was quicker than expected, due to the large numbers of horses that he had managed to acquire, which enabled him to mount his infantry for easier movement. Along the route of his withdrawal, he was shadowed by the Correntino cavalry, who adopted classic guerrilla tactics by avoiding a full-scale battle in which they would be considerably outnumbered, instead appearing on the flank of the Paraguayan column to cause unease and to pick off small groups of soldiers who came to gather cattle. In this way they managed to prevent Robles from carrying out one of his main instructions, which was to round up as many animals as possible. General Barrios, minister of war, was sent to meet Robles on his return. Unsuspecting, Robles reached out to shake his hand, but instead Barrios handed him a letter from Lopez, ordering his arrest. Without demur, Robles handed over his sword and allowed himself to be taken to Humaita to face trial. His secondin-command, Captain Valiente, was also seized, since it was assumed that he must know of Robles's treason, along with two other officers for good measure. They were given the semblance of a trial, as Lopez wanted the process made public to discourage either treason or failure in the future. The charges against Robles included communicating with the enemy, being slow to disembark at Corrientes and thus not arresting the Correntino governor, failing to attack the division of General Caceres, despotic and cruel treatment of his army, and disrespect for the National Order of Merit. Only the last two charges seem to have carried any truth, and it was evident that Robles was merely a scapegoat for Lopez's tactical and strategic failures. Centurion noted that he was hard on his men and was not a popular general, and certainly his reaction to being awarded the National Order was far from wise. At first he had declared that he did not deserve it, and when Captain Alen, Lopez"s aide, had tactfully dictated his thanks, Robles pointed furiously to the sash and said, "what is this rubbish worth, what's the point of it? What I need are clothes to dress these poor soldiers who are shivering with cold."' On being informed that it might be better for him to show more gratitude, he replied, "if he doesn't like it, he can have me shot."2 Robles denied the charges but did not bother to defend himself. He was impassive when the sentence of death was read out, and, as he signed the notification of his fate, he tossed away the pen, dryly remarking, "Goodbye, pen.""' He went to his death on horseback, smoking a cigar and dressed in his ordinary uniform, with onlv the paleness of his complexion giving any indication of his thoughts. He was fortunate enough to go quickly, with a bullet through the forehead, but another of the officers condemned with him. Lieutenant Gaona, did not die so easily. Physically powerful and noted for his habit of wrestling

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alligators in the River Parana, Gaona is reputed to have withstood five vollevs, each time managing to drag himself upright, before eventually being finished off in desperation with bayonets. His crime was that, although personally innocent of any wrongdoing, he had failed to betray the faults of his commander. However unfair the sentences may have been, Lopez was astute enough to know that this did not matter and that the effective use of terror could be a far more potent weapon than the scales of justice. It appears from his future conduct that Lopez saw the Paraguayan withdrawal less as a retreat than as a retrenchment. He had no plans to abandon Corrientes at this stage, and, with Estigarribia's column already in Rio Grande, his concept of a two-pronged attack was still very much alive. He moved further reinforcements, under General Resquin, down to Corrientes, so that by early June he had an army of about 25,000 men on the Parana. On 2 June, ignoring the pleas of Bishop Palacios and other well-wishers, he decided to move down to Humaita to take control of operations himself, for he could "no longer allow himself the selfsacrifice of being absent from the seat of the war."4 The major problem for Lopez now was the Brazilian squadron on the Parana River. At the time, this was anchored just south of Corrientes, and, although small, it was effectively preventing him from moving men and supplies downstream. He had already seen how easily he could be attacked in the rear whenever the Allies chose to use the river, and one of the reasons for the withdrawal of Robles's column was undoubtedly his fear that Corrientes would be invaded again. It was vital for him to clear the river so that the way lay open to Buenos Aires, if required, and he would thus be able to break the blockade of his country and even get supplies from Europe. He therefore decided to destroy the Brazilian squadron. The day of 10 June was spent preparing for the attack. Nine Paraguayan steamers would be involved, all heavily armed, with six of them towing chatas. These were long, low canoes, armed with a 68-pound gun in the center and carrying between 20 and 30 soldiers. They had no method of propulsion but provided useful extra firepower and soldiers to supplement the small fleet. The 500 men, picked especially from the 6th Battalion, were embarked, and Lopez went down to the landing place to speak with them and boost their morale. He told them that he wanted plenty of prisoners brought back. The men joked that this would not be possible, as they were going to kill them all, but Lopez turned serious and insisted that they bring back prisoners. He worked out the plan himself and appointed Captain Pedro Meza, the senior naval officer but a man with no experience of warfare, to lead the expedition. The fleet was to leave Humaita that evening and sail downstream so that it would come upon the Brazilian squadron at about 2 A.M. Drifting past in the darkness, the ships would pass by the Santa Catalina point and then turn around and steam back upriver toward the Riachuelo inlet. There they would release the chatas, which would later be able to fire on the Brazilian ships, and, continuing upstream, each vessel would select one enemv. fire a broadside, and then board and

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capture it. The plan relied on surprise, since in every other respect the Paraguayan fleet was the inferior. The Brazilians also had nine vessels, but their combined size, weight, and firepower was considerably greater than those of the Paraguayans. The flagship, Amazonas, at 1,800 tons in weight, was much larger than the biggest Paraguayan ship, the Paraguary, with 730 tons, and they had some 60 guns, compared to 44 for the Paraguayans. The Brazilians had a further advantage in that all their boats were purposebuilt warships, while for the Paraguayans only the Tacuary had its boiler beneath the waterline, which made it safe from enemy fire. However, all the Brazilian ships were wooden, while at least the Tacuary was armor-plated, and the greater mobility of the Paraguayan vessels should have played an important part, given the comparative narrowness of the channel and the shallowness of the river at this point. The Brazilian squadron was drawn up in a line some 10 miles south of Corrientes on the western, Chaco, side. At this point the river was about 2-3 miles wide but divided by several islands and sandbanks, so that there were only two navigable channels, the largest of which flowed close to the eastern side, near the opening to the small river known as the Riachuelo. Here there were high cliffs, on top of which Lopez had positioned, in great secrecy, 22 cannon under the command of Major Jose Bruguez, along with approximately 1,000 soldiers. The cannon had been in place for several days but, covered with vegetation, they remained invisible to the Brazilians. As night fell, the Paraguayan fleet slipped out of Humaita, but within a short while things began to go wrong. At Tres Bocas the smallest of the Paraguayan ships, the Yberd, fouled its propeller and ground to a halt. Meza should have left it, since he still had enough ships, together with the element of surprise, to inflict a defeat on the Brazilians, yet he was inexperienced and, fearful of disobeying orders, he waited for the fault to be repaired. Several hours were spent on this fruitless task, and eventually Meza decided to sail on without it. However, he had wasted valuable time, and it was not until 8.30 A.M. that the fleet passed Corrientes, in broad daylight. Surprise had therefore been lost, and Meza should probably have abandoned the expedition at this stage; instead, he carried on. The citizens of Corrientes looked on in wonder as the fleet passed by, and Centurion heard some of the locals shouting enthusiastically, "Heavens, those Paraguayans have balls."5 Caught up in the excitement, he mounted his horse, and, along with dozens of other spectators, he galloped along the coastal track down to the Riachuelo to witness the battle at first hand. The 11th of June was a Sunday—the day of the Holy Trinity—and being midwinter, it dawned cloudy, with a light mist rising from the river, which cleared slowly as the morning wore on. The pilot of the Jequitinonha had gone on shore to help with the collection of firewood and the gathering of cattle. His absence was later to be critical. At 8.30 A.M. the crews on the Jequitinonha and the Amazonas got ready for Mass, but at 9 A.M. the service was interrupted by a

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Battle of Riachuelo, 11 June 1865

signal from the Mearim, indicating "the enemy is in sight." The Brazilians were aware that an attack was possible and so had posted a small gunboat north of the squadron to give prior warning of any enemy advance. Admiral Joao Barroso climbed up to the bridge of the Amazonas and saw, across the trees of the Chaco where the river bent around, the smoke of the approaching Paraguayan steamers. He raised the signal "prepare for combat" and then, to the cheers and vivas of the sailors, "Brazil expects that every man will do his duty," in deliberate homage to Admiral Nelson's famous order at Trafalgar. The Paraguayan fleet, steaming at full speed and helped by the flow of the current, hove into sight and came rapidly downstream. Since they were not going to be able to pass by the Brazilians undetected, Meza relied on speed to get by with the least amount of damage. His ships passed the Brazilian squadron at about 1,800 yards' distance and opened fire. The Brazilian ships replied with volleys of ball and canister shot. The Mearim scored a direct hit on a chata and sank it, while the Paraguayan Jejui was hit in the boiler and became abruptly wrapped in a cloud of steam. With all power lost, it drifted downstream and was beached on the Riachuelo shore, where the damage could be repaired. The rest of the Paraguayan fleet continued down and out of sight around the Santa Catalina

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To the Bitter End

headland. There it turned and sailed back upstream, anchoring by the Riachuelo and releasing the chatas. There was now a long pause. The Brazilians showed no sign of moving, and the Paraguayans were temporarily protected by the vegetation on the Isla de la Palomera. Both sides had the opportunity to avoid a battle at this stage if they had wished. Indeed, it was even possible for the Paraguayan squadron to have sailed downstream and menaced Argentine towns as far south as Buenos Aires. George Gibson. English engineer on board the Marques de Olinda. urged his commander. Ezekiel Robles. brother of the general, to suggest to Captain Meza that the Paraguayans block the channel with their ships and thereby prevent the Brazilians from moving down. Robles said that he was unwilling to make the suggestion, and the next time Gibson came up to speak to him. he was apparently blind drunk. Then, just before 11 A.M.. in view of the excited spectators on the cliffs, Barroso decided to go in pursuit of the Paraguayans. Like the movement of some huge serpent, the Belmonte led the Brazilian squadron winding down the channel toward the enemv. At this moment, the artillery of Major Briiguez opened fire from the bank, taking the Brazilian fleet bv surprise. After the first vollev there was a pause while the cannon were reloaded, but after that they fired continuously, though more irregularlv. throughout the rest of the battle, with the support of musket fire from the infantry lined up along the clifftop. The Brazilian ships replied with their own guns, and as thev approached, the Paraguayans, too, opened fire. The noise was thunderous and so much shot was being fired, and so much ordnance was splashing into the water, that the river seemed to the onlookers to be boiling. The Belmonte. in the van of the Brazilian squadron, now found to its horror that it was on its own. since the Amazonas had decided to leave the line and remain upstream. At the mercy of virtuallv the whole Paraguayan fleet, it was quicklv put out of action and left to drift onto the sandy bank of the Isla Cabral. It was saved further punishment by the smoke, which quickly enveloped both it and the Paraguavan ships, and by the arrival of the rest of the Brazilian squadron, including the Amazonas. The Brazilians copied the Paraguayan maneuver and moved quicklv down toward the Santa Catalina headland, intending to turn around and come back upstream. Steaming against the current made control over the vessels much easier. As the Brazilians came past them, the Paraguayans seized their chance, and the Tacuary. followed closely by the Salto and Paraguary, headed for the two last Brazilian ships, the Parnaiba and the Jequitinonha. Without its pilot and trying desperately to avoid the Paraguayans, the latter quickly ran aground on a sandbank and there remained at the mercy of the Paraguayan artillery for the rest of the day. The Paraguayans now surrounded the Parnaiba and attempted to board it. The Brazilian ship made efforts to save itself by ramming the Paraguary. but it could not escape the other two that came alongside. It was at this moment that the Paraguayans realized that they had forgotten to bring any

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grappling irons or boarding nets, and that the greater height of the Brazilian ships and the special defensive structures that protected the marines and sailors would be a formidable obstacle to boarding. Nevertheless, gripping their cutlasses between their teeth. Paraguayans from the Tacuary swarmed up the defensive nets on the Parnaiba and fought their way onto the deck. Hand-to-hand fighting now took place, and the Brazilians were forced back. Some chose to throw themselves into the water to escape the onslaught, while others fled down the companionways to the greater safety of the interior of the ship, but plenty were prepared to match the Paraguayans for bravery and tenacity, and a formidable and frightful battle ensued. In the mayhem, one sharpshooter managed to fire down onto the Paraguayan flagship and mortally wound Captain Meza. Locked together, the three ships slowly drifted downstream. In the panic of the situation, contradictory orders from the bridge of the Parnaiba to the engine room caused the boat to move first forward, then backward, causing some Paraguayans to be squashed between the hulls of the boats as they tried to cross. The Parnaiba. however, was unable to shake off its attackers. At this moment the rest of the Brazilian fleet, which had completed its maneuvers, steamed back into the thick of the action. Now the Amazonas. with its armored bow. came into its own. Employing its huge weight, it rammed first of all the Paraguary. forcing it to beach on the island, from where it remained firing, and then the Jejui. which sank. It was now close enough to the Parnaiba and high enough to open fire down onto the decks and kill most of the Paraguayan attackers, with the remainder fleeing back to their own ships or jumping into the water. The Amazonas then powered into the wheel of the Marques de Olinda. flinging Gibson against the far side of the deck and wounding Robles in the chest and arm. With the ship crippled. Gibson dressed the wounds of his captain as they drifted toward the Chaco side. Suddenly a shot hit the boiler, causing it to explode and showering the crew with scalding water, killing many. The Amazonas now turned on the Salto. which put on full power and. followed by the surviving Paraguayan ships, steamed away from the heat of the battle. Two Brazilian ships gave pursuit, but at a distance, and they made no serious effort to prevent the Paraguayans from escaping. After a short while they abandoned the chase and came back to join the rest of the fleet. At about 4.30 P.M. the guns of the Paraguayan artillery ceased firing, and an extraordinary silence descended upon the river. Taken on board a Brazilian ship. Lieutenant Robles lay in agony while a Brazilian surgeon dressed his wounds. Abruptly, he leapt off the table, tore off the bandages, and exclaimed that he would rather die a free Paraguayan than live as a prisoner. His bemused rescuers left him to it, and he died shortly afterwards. His gesture was taken by Lopez to represent the height of Paraguayan selfsacrifice and courage. Gibson, meanwhile, waited in vain for either rescue or capture, but he seemed to have been entirely forgotten, so on the 14th he and his men built rafts to take them across to the Chaco shore. There they found a canoe and managed to cross the river to Corrientes, where they were taken in and

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looked after by Dr. Skinner. Subsequently they were arrested on the orders of Lopez, charged with hauling down the national flag, and imprisoned for some time. Back at Humaita, Lopez and his officers waited anxiously for news of the battle. At sunrise, on the 13th, they saw a steamer come slowly upstream towing another ship, and at first glance assumed that it was a captured Brazilian vessel. However, it was only the Yberd, which had broken down at Tres Bocas and which had, unwittingly, been a cause of the defeat. Later that day, the remaining Paraguayan ships limped home. All had been hit; their chimneys were riddled with shot and some had gaping holes in the hull, yet the only serious damage was to the boiler of the Ygurey. In the following days, the Paraguayans managed to sail down and tow back the Paraguary, as well as lift much of the equipment off the Jequitinonha. The wounded Captain Meza was also brought back, but Lopez refused to see him. The president had taken the defeat with surprising equanimity and was able, with his extraordinary capacity for self-deception, to not only report it as a victory but almost to believe that it was one. Nevertheless, Centurion, who brought him the details, noted his "melancholic"6 air, which seemed to indicate that he was upset by the news. He awarded medals to those who had shown courage, including the Order of Merit to Watts, the engineer of the Tacuary, and he ordered a small cemetery to be built in the camp for the burial of the Protestant English. One sailor was summarily executed for cowardice, and Captain Meza had the good sense to die before he could share a similar fate. The reported casualties were 104 Brazilians killed and 123 wounded, with approximately 200 dead and injured on the Paraguayan side. The wounded were returned to Asuncion, with strict orders to reveal no details about the setback. The battle has traditionally been presented as a Paraguayan defeat, but the immediate results were negligible. They had lost four ships to the enemy's one, but after the battle the Brazilians unexpectedly sailed downstream, leaving the Paraguayans in control of more of the river than before. This failure of the allied squadron to follow up its victory and pursue the Paraguayan ships to the death meant that a chance to gain full control of the rivers was lost. Nevertheless, this was the last time that the Paraguayan navy attempted to take on the Brazilians in force, and from now on the Brazilian fleet would grow in strength as reinforcements were brought up, while Paraguayan numbers remained static. In the immediate aftermath, Lopez sent Bruguez with his artillery further south, to the Mercedes cliffs, and the Brazilians, realizing that this battery could cut them off, decided to run the gauntlet. They successfully sailed past but were in no mood to return upstream, and their subsequent reluctance to take on the Paraguayans either by river or by passing their land batteries suggests that the Battle of Riachuelo had been a less than complete victory for them.

10 The Rio Grande Campaign: June to September 1865

The Paraguayan invasion of the Brazilian province of Rio Grande do Sul had been on the cards since April, but it was not until 10 June that the army, under Estigarrfbia, crossed the River Uruguay. This proved to be laughably easy since, despite all the warnings, there were almost no Brazilian soldiers to prevent it. Although a small force of volunteers—some 500 men—did come to the water's edge to try to oppose him, by a simple trick of turning his canoes upstream to divert the defenders and then backtracking toward the arranged landing point, Estigarribia crossed with little trouble. So confident was he that he carried out the operation in broad daylight, with the orders for embarkation being transmitted by cannon shot; by the evening of the 11th his whole force was encamped on Brazilian soil. Captain Lopez of the Paraguayan advance guard initially found resistance on the outskirts of Sao Borja harder than expected, and so, after a brief firefight, he decided to camp outside the town. But by the next morning the defenders had melted away, and he entered unopposed. For the next ten days, Estigarrfbia's men brought in cattle and horses, looted goods, and sent their spoils back across the river to Santo Tome. Captain Lopez was sent further inland with some 400 men to scour the more distant ranches for booty, but on the 19th, without waiting for his return, Estigarribia abruptly left Sao Borja and moved his army southward toward the next Brazilian town of Itaquy. On the other side of the river, and maintaining contact via the canoes that were paddled down alongside, Major Duarte followed a parallel course. Captain Lopez returned to Sao Borja on the 22nd and was surprised to find it virtually deserted. In the absence of orders, he decided to follow the main army,

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but he was forced to abandon all the cattle and horses that he had collected. The trail was easy enough to find, for so difficult was the terrain and so enervating the conditions that the way was marked by abandoned equipment, sick and dying soldiers, and exhausted horses. Trudging along the tracks, which were thick with glutinous mud and drenched by the unending rain, he came on the 25th to a large bahado—a flooded meadow—that was fed by the River Butuhy. There he came upon the main Brazilian force of Colonel Lima, who a few days before had been chased away by Estigarribia's army. Colonel Lima decided that, in view of his column outnumbering the Paraguayans by more than three to one. he was at last in a position to inflict some damage on the enemy. He drew up his troops at the base of a ridge behind the bahado. which the Paraguayans would have to wade through to get past. While Lopez and his men negotiated this obstacle, he was able to lay down fire upon them, but the Paraguayans still managed to reach dry land. Once there. Lopez drew up his men in a line of infantry with units of cavalry on either flank. Lima's men charged, but instead of using their strength to force their way through, small groups of cavalry attacked different points at random and were easily stopped by the disciplined Paraguayan infantry. A second Brazilian attack, using the same tactics, had similar results. However, at this moment the battle turned with the arrival of a fresh battalion of Brazilian soldiers. Lopez knew that if he was forced back into the bahado. his men would be cut down: he therefore moved his forces to the right toward an area of bush that seemed to mark dry land. While he was undertaking this maneuver, the Brazilians charged on both flanks and the front, and after initial strong resistance the Paraguayans broke and fled. The Battle of Butuhy (Mbutuy), was the first pitched battle of the war between Brazilian and Paraguayan forces. The Paraguayans lost over 230 killed and wounded and the Brazilians about 120. but both sides claimed it as a victory. Although minor, this skirmish highlighted certain aspects that would become commonplace. The Brazilians were surprised by the courage and ferocity of the Paraguayan resistance, despite the disparity in numbers—a phenomenon they were to encounter throughout the war. Likewise, the failure of the Brazilians to follow up their success and annihilate Lopez's column was also to be repeated. Lopez was allowed to rejoin Estigarribia on the 28th, and what could have been a setback for the Paraguayans and a morale-boosting victory for the Brazilians became, instead, an almost irrelevant sideshow. On 6 July, the Paraguayan army entered Itaquy without resistance, and at almost the same time, on his side of the river, Duarte quietly took La Cruz. *** Midway through the month of June 1865, Mitre could be forgiven for thinking that events were going his way. True, there were still Paraguayan forces encamped in Corrientes and Estigarribia had invaded Brazil and was beginning to move down toward Uruguay, but the balance of power did seem to be shifting in favor of the Allies. The events at Riachuelo, despite their limited immediate effects, appeared to confirm the allied blockade of Paraguay, which sooner or later must start to take effect. The Paraguayan army operating along the River

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Parana had been forced to withdraw, and this movement could be seen as an end to Lopez's ambitions. The Paraguayans in Rio Grande would soon have to come up against the allied armies being assembled in Concordia. and there the southward advance would be halted. It had always seemed clear that if Paraguay was to achieve anything, it would have to do it quickly, and now Lopez's gamble had failed. Paraguay had already committed most of its able-bodied men to the army, and it had achieved virtually nothing. Reinforcements were swarming into Concordia every week, and it seemed that the Allies had hardly got started in raising their war effort. Yet his confidence was to be rudely shattered by events in Entre Rios. The role of its leader, Urquiza, had been a vital factor in these early stages of the war: if he decided to go with the Paraguayans, then he could well be followed by other Argentine provinces, and this might provoke an uprising by the Blancos in Uruguay: on the other hand, if he remained loyal to Mitre, then the war seemed virtually over for Lopez. Mitre had done his utmost to woo Urquiza by naming him head of the Entre Rios militias and emphasizing his crucial role in defending the nation against the invader, and on 1 May he had taken the unusual step of inviting him to Buenos Aires to take part in the first war council that immediately followed the signing of the Treaty of the Triple Alliance. The council was limited to commanders of the three allied armies, and Urquiza, as a mere subordinate, was very much out of place, but the invitation showed the crucial nature of his role at this time and Mitre's belief that he held the balance of power. Whether this indicated Mitre's trust of Urquiza or his fear is open to interpretation. At any rate, the latter seemed, for the time being, to have accepted these advances, and he rapidly set about mobilizing a strong force of 8,000 cavalry, which he took with him to Basualdo at the beginning of June. Problems began to emerge, however, particularly in his treatment of General Paunero, who was nominally subordinate to him. Urquiza acted in a high-handed way and showed little tact in his dealings with the general, nor did he show any desire to move from his stronghold and join the main allied armies at Concordia. On 24 June, Mitre had to pull rank and order him to move; yet when he arrived on 3 July, he was alone. As he reached the camp, news came that his army had mutinied and started to disband. Urquiza and Mitre both behaved as if this was treason and demanded that the ringleaders be punished, but inevitably there was doubt as to how much Urquiza himself was behind the mutiny. Elizalde, the foreign minister, described this as a serious blow and a great scandal. This was something of an understatement, for it was potentially a disaster. Elizalde feared that not only would Entre Rios now be open to Paraguayan attack and, worse, that it might even signify Urquiza sympathizing with, or even joining, the enemy, but it could also result in similar behavior from other Argentine provinces. He recommended that forces be moved from Santa Fe to keep control of Entre Rios and that the situation in Cordoba and Corrientes be watched carefully. He particularly wanted a quick victory against the Paraguayans, as this would provide the best chance of uniting the country behind the war. Mitre, perhaps ingenuously, believed in Urquiza's sincerity and put on a large

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parade in his honor at Concordia, but it seems that his trust was misplaced. Urquiza was sheltering Blanco exiles from Uruguay, and although he showed a willingness to comply with Mitre's request to send them to Buenos Aires, somewhere along the route the exiles "escaped" from his soldiers and were never handed over. There is some evidence that he may have been a victim of his ambitious subordinate, Lopez Jordan, who eventually overthrew him, and that he considered that his position was not secure enough to move troops out of his province, yet his statement to Burton some two years later that he might even have joined Lopez against Brazil casts doubt on his enthusiasm for the cause. In other respects Mitre had more cause for hope, particularly given the remarkably smooth cooperation between the allied armies. When the Brazilian general, Osorio, moved his forces across the River Uruguay to join the main allied army at Concordia—a move that had the significance of acknowledging Mitre as commander-in-chief, since the armies were now on Argentine soil— Mitre regarded it as his first major success. He had taken this as an important test of his authority and had assumed that Osorio's apparent reluctance to cross the river was due to professional, and national, jealousy. In fact, the Brazilian was considerably less concerned by this than by the 9,000-strong Paraguayan army marching down through Rio Grande toward him, which he thought, understandably enough, he ought to do something about. Mitre's efforts to convince him that this was merely a feint by Lopez and should not be taken seriously were clearly motivated by his attaching more importance to his own position than by an accurate reading of Paraguayan strategy. Osorio, who seemed perfectly happy to acknowledge Mitre as his chief, eventually accepted his arguments that General Canabarro could hold up Estigarribia's column and that the allied armies would be more efficiently run if they were all in one place. In meetings, the two generals and Flores appeared to work well together, and Mitre was enough of a diplomat to encourage discussion and listen to advice from the others. Since Osorio was a soldier who seemed to encourage respect and devotion from all who met him, this seemed a productive policy. For two months the Allies waited at Concordia, exercising the men, working out plans, and waiting for reinforcements—particularly mules and oxcarts, which were in short supply. Finally, on 18 July, Mitre ordered the vanguard of his army to move north toward Paso de Los Libres, there to link with General Paunero, who was going to cross the width of Corrientes to supplement its numbers. The vanguard had already been designated by the meeting of 1 May, and it was to be led by Flores and comprise the entire Uruguayan army, as well as a division from each of the others. The composition of this force was cleverly arranged to give the starring role to the junior of the three allied commanders and allow the Uruguayans a more important part in the war. This may have shown the need to keep the strategic ports of Montevideo and Paysandu on the allied side, but it also had the effect of removing possible jealousies between the Argentine and Brazilian commanders over who should get the credit for the early victories.

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The march to Paso de Los Libres took almost a month, and it was to provide a taste of many of the difficulties that the Allies were to face in moving their armies toward Paraguay. The problems of supply and movement were to be seen almost immediately. There were not enough carts, nor animals to pull them, and soldiers had to carry their heavy knapsacks, often including tents, on their backs. Many of the Uruguayans had to go barefoot, either through necessity because they had not yet been supplied with boots despite having waited for three months, or by desire because the paths were so muddy and waterlogged that boots simply became stuck and it was easier to abandon them. This naturally meant that the men received cuts, and worse, from the thorns underfoot. Colonel Palleja recorded his delight when he was given 86 pairs of boots for the thousand or so men under his command. Worse still, there was little forage along the way for the horses, which became weak from struggling through the mud, and the cavalry had to march dismounted for most of the journey. Being winter, the weather was changeable and, at times, dreadful. The rain, in addition to making the way almost impassable, drenched the soldiers and their equipment. Palleja made his men march without trousers on occasion because they became so wet they caused agonies through chafing the men's skin. With the tents offering scant protection, particularly in the strong winds, the men became increasingly miserable. On several occasions the trek had to be abandoned for days on end, so dense was the downpour. Furthermore, although the nights were extremely cold, and some Brazilians died in the open, the days could be equally hot, which added to the discomfort. These problems, not unnaturally, encouraged desertions among the ranks. Palleja's diary noted the steady trickle of soldiers from his battalion, some of whom volunteered for water duty and never returned and others who quietly slipped away in the night. After two weeks he had lost 19 deserters. He attributed part of this problem to the fact that many of his soldiers were unwilling conscripts, some of whom had actually been removed from the country's jails to serve in the army. There were also Paraguayans who, willingly or not, formed a significant part of his forces, and several of these took the opportunity to change sides. Alongside, or slightly behind, the vanguard marched the camp followers. These became a common accompaniment to all the armies during the war and were a mixed blessing. Some of them were traders who had stocks of food— often luxuries that the armies were not supplied with, like flour, biscuits, sugar, salt, and, more damagingly, alcohol—which they sold to the men at exorbitant prices. While they were clearly exploiting the army and were therefore disliked in general by the officers, they were often tolerated as the only available source of food. Palleja noted his relief at the arrival of some of these traders, bearing provisions that he had been quite unable to provide himself. Further behind came the women. Despite the often derogatory implication of the term "camp follower," they were usually a highly welcome contingent. While there were, no doubt, prostitutes and thieves among them, the majority

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were respectable and supportive—mainly mothers or wives who came to look after their menfolk. They would cook. sew. wash clothes, mend equipment, forage for food, and minister in other, equally important, ways to the soldiers. They would risk their lives in battle to bring out the wounded, yet would cost the army virtually nothing. They were extraordinarily hardy: some accounts speak of them giving birth on the march and within an hour rejoining the column with their new-born babes slung over their backs. In the writings of the time they are regarded with respect, and they undoubtedly had a significant effect in raising the morale of the troops. In many ways they were the unsung heroines of the war. The vanguard had been due to depart on 18 July, and it was reviewed on parade by Mitre with much formality, but that night a huge storm caused the rivers to rise and the cattle to bolt, so the army only managed to leave on the 20th. and without sufficient supplies for the iourney. Thereafter, the communications from Flores showed signs of increasing anxiety, including reports of the Paraguayans moving swiftly toward him. and requests for 4.000 more men as reinforcements. Mitre had to remind Flores that Paunero's army was moving across Corrientes to meet him. and this would be sufficient for dealing with Duarte's troops, but Flores went so far as to secretlv contact Osorio and ask for more men. He also wrote to Caceres in northern Corrientes to come and join him. which would have left that part of the province dangerously undefended, and Mitre later had to reprimand him over his conduct. Flores was possibly the least predictable and most ebullient of the allied leaders, and he behaved very much in the cultural traditions of his countrymen. He eschewed a military uniform, preferring to dress as a gaucho. with poncho and wide sombrero. He had fought with Garibaldi and taken part in many of the actions that formed part of his country's history, but he was used onlv to leading small raids of fast horsemen in the limited engagements of a civil war and felt out of his depth directing a large army in a proper military campaign. He perhaps had some reason for alarm, since the Paraguayan armies, as he had reported, had left Itaquy and La Cruz on 14 July and had begun to move south. Before departing, they had sent back 14 cartloads of booty from the two towns. Colonel Lima, with about 2.500 men. remained behind Estigarrfbia's column, while General Canabarro. with nearly 5.000 men. lay between the Paraguayans and the River Ibicuy. which Lopez had designated as the limit of the advance. Since the river was broad enough to be a natural obstacle, it was an obvious place where Canabarro could hold up the invaders, and he initially proposed to defend it. However, he later changed his mind and moved his troops away to greater safety. Lopez had given strict instructions to Estigarribia not to cross the Ibicuy, but now, as in previous instances, these were ignored. Estigarribia argued that since there seemed to be no Brazilian army resisting him. it would be wise to cross now rather than later, when he might be opposed. He did not seem to realize, however, that by doing so he was cutting off his means of retreat and stretching his lines of communication even further. It took him several days to get his army

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across the river, and then he continued his march down toward Uruguayana. The roads were still very difficult, and the carts and artillery churned up the mud and slowed down the advance, yet there was so little opposition from the Brazilians that he remarked to the president that "we seem to be marching through territory where the constitution and law of Paraguay [already] hold sway."1 Canabarro's forces were in evidence, and every day there were minor firefights, but the Paraguayans had little difficulty in beating them off. The only real resistance, surprisingly, came from the river. The military commander of Uruguayana had had sufficient initiative to form a tiny flotilla to patrol its further reaches, and on the 25th he sent it into action. The little steamer, Uruguay, towing two launches, the San Juan and the Garibaldi, moved upstream and opened fire on the Paraguayan canoes that were attached to Duarte's column, destroying six of them. The flotilla remained, shadowing the two columns and preventing communications between them, and was a sufficient annoyance to Estigarribia for him to detach a force of cavalry and infantry to try to destroy it. This failed, but at least the flotilla was warned off and sailed back to Uruguayana. As the Paraguayans approached, the Brazilians made a few efforts to stop them, but at no stage did they try serious resistance. At 10.30 A.M. on 5 August, Estigarribia raised the Paraguayan flag in the town. He was pleased to find there stocks of food and munitions, sufficient to withstand a siege, as well as newly dug trenches and fortifications. Canabarro had intended to defend the town, but again he had changed his mind. Canabarro was heavily criticized for his uninspiring and somewhat unheroic reaction to the invasion, but he was more of a scapegoat than a villain. With the forces at his disposal, he could hardly have mounted a serious resistance to the Paraguayans, at least before the end of July. He and Osorio and many others had for several years complained about the lack of protection for Rio Grande and the poor state of the army there, and it was not his fault that the government had chosen to ignore them. He could be blamed for not defending either the River Ibicuy or the town of Uruguayana, as even with his smaller army he could have held up the advance and inflicted heavy casualties on the invader from those positions, but his defense that he was acting under orders from Osorio to avoid direct contact with the enemy does seem to have been a valid one. Mitre also, despite later slating Canabarro for his "weakness and ineptitude" and his "criminal conduct,"2 had suggested that the general do no more than harass the Paraguayans. At any rate, the Brazilians now had to face up to the considerable indignity—not to mention danger—of an invading army camped deep inside their territory. Indeed, the Paraguayans may have considered going even further into Brazil. Although Lopez had not wanted Estigarribia to go so far south, he now suggested that the colonel turn east and march on Alegrete. Estigarrfbia demurred, arguing that Canabarro was too strong there. It is possible that Lopez's plan had really been to carry the invasion toward the coast, yet his earlier reluctance for the column to move beyond the River Ibicuy suggests that he may still have been

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hoping for some link between Estigarribia and the Paraguayan army on the Parana. A captured message, purporting to be from Duarte to Robles, did refer to orders to cooperate, but this may have been a fake. Since the dispatch consisted of little more than gratuitous insults against the Correntinos and orders from Lopez to shoot all prisoners, it seems likely that it was designed by Mitre both to terrify the province into supporting him and to justify keeping the main allied army in Argentina, and therefore under his command. At any rate, for the time being Lopez prepared to wait upon events, as was probably his plan all along. He did not have to wait long. On 1 August Duarte had reached Paso de Los Libres and had chosen to camp just north of the town near the Yatay stream while he sent out reconnaissance parties to gather in cattle and horses. He requested reinforcements from Estigarribia, especially artillery, but his commander refused and showed no softening of attitude when Duarte sent over canoes to enable him to transport them. Estigarribia's conduct throughout the campaign was bizarre and largely incompetent. He owed his position as commander to the personal favor of President Lopez, and his leadership was resented both by Duarte, who had organized the army in the first place, and by his men. His refusal to help may have been due in some respects to professional jealousy, but also to the prevailing attitude in the Paraguayan army, which did not encourage good common sense. His replies to Duarte, whom he was abandoning with his 4,000 men against the allied vanguard of nearly 12,000, expressed surprise at the request for reinforcements and questioned his spirit as a Paraguayan, the implication being that no matter what the odds, it was the duty of Paraguayans to show sufficient courage to prevail. Perhaps the worst of Estigarribia's misconceptions was that he failed to realize that his own survival was very much bound up with Duarte's and that the Allies would be only too happy to pick off each column separately. Abandoned thus to his fate, Duarte compounded his problems by choosing a dreadful defensive position in which to site his forces. To his immediate left lay the broad expanse of the River Uruguay, and he elected to put his men so that at their backs, and to their right, was the smaller River Yatay, and before that a large bahado, effectively signifying that an organized retreat would be impossible. Worse still, in front of him the ground rose to some smallish, grass-covered hills, but rather than using these to his advantage, he preferred to leave them undefended and drew up his men at their foot, thus allowing the enemy, when they chose to appear, an excellent attacking position. Flores was all too willing to accept Duarte's generosity. Reinforced by Paunero's army, which had reached him on the 12th, his confidence had risen. The night before the battle, he and Palleja had gone around inspiring their men, reminding them that this was the first time their country had taken on a foreign enemy and how important it was to make a good impression. On the morning of the 17th, dressed in their parade uniforms—customary for battles—the soldiers marched forward with bands playing, and singing the national anthem, past the town of Paso de Los Libres and toward the Yatay stream.

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Battle of Yatay, 17 August 1865 From the heights, Flores was able to see the benefits of the position that Duarte had ceded to him. He intended to take full advantage of this and of his superior numbers, and he spread out his men on the hills and on either side, so that they stretched almost from the River Uruguay on his right as far as the Paraguayan right flank near the River Yatay. He placed his guns opposite the Paraguayan center and to their left and most of his cavalry opposite their right, so that he could easily move around behind them. He noticed that Duarte had dug a ditch extending the whole length of his line, and that he had deployed his skirmishers behind it, so he, in turn, moved his skirmishers up to extend along the front of this line, facing the Paraguayans. He then sent a message to Duarte, inviting him to surrender, but the Paraguayan leader replied that his orders did not cover this eventuality—a heroic though somewhat stock reply. Flores then ordered his artillery to open fire. The Allies had 24 guns, and the Paraguayans none. Commentators, including Mitre, later suggested that Flores should have won the battle without the loss of a single allied life, since from his position he could simply bombard the helpless Paraguayans, who were bottled up with no chance of escape and who had no artillery with which to retaliate. Flores himself may have hoped to achieve just this, but he had reckoned without the enthusiasm, not to mention indiscipline, of

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some of his commanders. As he rode across to confer with Paunero, he heard a commotion in the valley below and turned to see that the Uruguayan infantry under Palleja had, without instructions, already started to advance. Flores sighed "Ah, Palleja, always Palleja."3 He had every reason for regret, since this movement negated many of his advantages and meant that the guns now had to fall silent for fear of hitting their own men. Palleja later gave no indication as to why he had moved, and it is possible that he had misunderstood his orders. He was not the only one, since the skirmishers under Bustamante in the center also took the opportunity to advance and, crossing the ditch, managed to split the line of Paraguayan skirmishers in two, rapidly mopping up the left-hand section. However, this gave an opportunity for the Paraguayan infantry behind to open fire on the Uruguayans, and their sustained volleys caused major losses. Duarte then ordered his cavalry, which had been partly hidden behind some buildings on his left, into the attack against the Uruguayan cavalry opposite. Here there was fierce fighting; even Flores joined in, breaking his lance in the melee. Some of the Paraguayan cavalry then moved in to attack the Uruguayan infantry in the center, who promptly formed squares to resist them but, spotting the danger, reinforcements of Argentine horses swept in to rescue them. At this point the greater numbers of the allied forces began to tell. Although in the center the Uruguayan infantry were locked in fierce hand-to-hand fighting with the Paraguayan battalions, on the allied left the Argentine and Brazilian cavalry now moved around the flank and began to encircle the enemy. They were helped, somewhat unexpectedly, by a charge from the Argentine reserve, which, against orders, decided it did not want to miss out on the action and added its weight in the center. These charges proved the death blow for the Paraguayans, who now began a fighting retreat. Unfortunately, the terrain made this exceedingly difficult, and now the grimmest phase of the battle ensued. Small groups of Paraguayans were set upon as they tried to wade through the swamp or cross the stream, and fighting took place even beside the river, with soldiers chest-high in mud frantically slashing at their enemies as they struggled to freedom. Some tried desperately to swim across the river, but many were drowned. At 2.30 P.M., as much through total exhaustion on both sides as anything else, the firing stopped, and the Allies began rounding up prisoners. It had been a crushing victory. Duarte had effectively lost his entire army, with nearly 2,000 killed. The Allies had lost about 350 dead and wounded, of whom about 90 were killed. Given the nature of the fighting, the disparity in these numbers was startling. The Paraguayans had fought with extreme courage, and since their upbringing had taught them that surrender was shameful, there is no doubt that many preferred death to dishonor; yet it is also clear that the Allies behaved with excessive cruelty. Mitre was appalled when he heard the details of the battle and complained about the fact that the Uruguayans had slaughtered many of the enemy after they had surrendered and had then robbed the corpses,

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including that of their own chief surgeon, whose finger they had cut off in order to steal his ring. Duarte, at least, had had his surrender accepted. He was something of a prize for the Allies and was taken back to Buenos Aires, where, after an initial period of imprisonment, he was placed under house arrest for the remainder of the war. The treatment of the other Paraguayan prisoners was extraordinary. Contrary to the rules of war and. as was to be seen, of common sense, thev were forced into the ranks of the Uruguayan army. This did not seem unusual conduct to Flores, and initially Palleja made little comment in his diary except to note the humanity of the Uruguayans in giving their erstwhile foe proper clothing. The wisdom of incorporating so many of the enemy while en route to invading their homeland seems questionable, but considering that the diminutive Uruguayan army already contained many convicts and Paraguayans who equally had no desire to serve, a few more unwilling recruits may have seemed to make little difference. Mitre complained and called this behavior "uncivilized and impractical."4 Although he was proved correct in the latter criticism, from the point of view of human rights it is doubtful whether the Paraguayans were any worse off in their new role, though Flores had handed Lopez a useful propaganda weapon. The next day was spent in the gruesome task of burying the dead and collecting the wounded for transport to a nearby hospital in Restauracion. The rain continued to come down in bucketloads, filling the graves with water as the bodies were dumped into them—Paraguayans alongside the many nationalities that comprised the allied armies. Across the river they could hear the sound of gunfire between Estigarrfbia's army, holed up in Uruguayana, and the besieging Brazilian forces. On the following day, the rain let off enough for them to witness a short skirmish between the two armies to the north of the town. Though they did not realize it, what they were seeing was an abortive attempt by Estigarribia to break out of the siege and return to the relative safety of the northern side of the River Ibicuy. However the Paraguayans, seeing the 8.000strong force of General Canabarro. which now outnumbered them, opted instead to return to the town. Lopez had given strict instructions to Estigarribia not to camp inside towns because of the ease with which he could be entrapped: once again his advice had been ignored. The appearance of Brazilian gunboats, with chatas. on 21 August enabled the vanguard to start moving across the river to join in the siege of Uruguayana. Conditions here were, if anything, even worse. Palleja could not accept that it still seemed impossible for the Uruguayan government to supply his troops with food and equipment, especially since they were so close to the river. Instead. Flores was left to do the best he could in getting beef for his men. The animals tended to be skinny and occasionally diseased, and much of the army began to go down with diarrhea and typhus. Especially galling was the fact that in the besieged town the Paraguayans, at least for the time being, were well provided with animals that the Brazilians had thoughtfully stocked up with before they left.

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It was not just the men who suffered. The condition of the horses was becoming something of a scandal. Although all the armies relied on them for speed and mobility and although in the culture of many of those fighting the horse was held in high esteem, nevertheless they were not treated with the necessary care. In the plentiful grasslands to which they were accustomed, they would look after themselves, and little attention was needed, but now there was not enough grass to feed them, and it did not seem to occur to anybody that their diet needed supplementing or that they would be unable to find pasture on their own. They quickly became weak and died, and the camps became littered with their rotting carcasses, which further added to the misery and lack of hygiene. At the beginning of September, Mitre issued an order that only brigadiers and adjutants could ride horses; all other officers and cavalry must now go on foot. The weather continued to be appalling. Perhaps the men were not used to spending so much time in the open air, and so they noticed the climate more, but locals avowed that in the winters of 1865 and 1866 the rivers rose far more than they could ever remember, and it became a common sight to see the tributary streams change their course and flow backwards due to the pressure of water from the main torrents. Naturally, this caused the water to spill over the banks to form the huge bahados that became such a nightmarish feature of the war. The problem was not just the apparently unceasing rain, which soaked the men, dampened the powder in their muskets, and made the dragging of artillery along the muddy roads almost impossible, but also the fierce winds, which blew away tents, left the soldiers exposed to the cold, and killed many of them. It was hardly surprising in such circumstances that desertions continued, and even Flores, who was apt to pardon such men under sentence of death, was obliged to resort to the ultimate penalty. These conditions meant that those besieging Uruguayana became impatient and fractious. Debates began among commanders and the men over whether the town should be shelled in order to make it surrender, or whether it should be assaulted without delay. Palleja, typically impatient, favored the latter, and Flores and Mitre soon came around to his way of thinking, but most of the Brazilian commanders preferred to wait. There was some justification for this: they knew full well the quantity of supplies available to the Paraguayans within the town and were aware that within a month the enemy would be forced to surrender. They tried to speed up this process by sending delegations to encourage them to give up quickly. On the 20th, Estigarribia received no fewer than three separate invitations from Generals Flores, Caldwell, and Canabarro, which showed something of the lack of coordination among the allied command, but he courteously rejected each. He would doubtless have been happier to have complied, for he had, after all, been virtually abandoned by Lopez, and he knew that there was little hope of rescue. The next approach, under the guise of persuading Estigarribia to let the civilians out, was more inspired. Decoud and Iturburu, the leaders of the Paraguayan Legion that was serving with the allied forces, went in to speak to the com-

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mander, who, surprisingly, received them. They tried to convince him of his patriotic duty to turn against Lopez, and although they did not extract from him an immediate promise to surrender, they possibly sowed the seeds in his mind of the pointlessness of continuing. They did manage to get the civilians released, though this was more to Estigarribia's advantage in any case since it meant fewer mouths to feed. The siege lasted barely six weeks, a comparatively short period, but it was enough for frustrations among the allied commanders to emerge. In the first weeks of September, Mitre, Flores, and the Brazilians, Admiral Tamandare and General Porto Alegre, were all present outside the walls of the town. Disputes over tactics inevitably provoked arguments over protocol. Under the terms of the Treaty of the Triple Alliance, Mitre should have handed over command, since the war was now being fought on Brazilian soil. He was unwilling to do this, however, both for reasons of personal prestige and because the necessities of the campaign suggested that the command structures should be as consistent as possible. He was certainly not happy at handing over to either of the Brazilians, and with good reason. Tamandare and Porto Alegre were cousins, and they regarded the war more as an opportunity for family advancement than for getting rid of tiresome dictators. Throughout the early years of the conflict both men, but especially the admiral, were to be thorns in Mitre's side, and their conduct was often to hold up operations. Generally, the workings of the Triple Alliance were remarkably smooth, from the governments right down to relations between the ordinary soldiers of the different armies, but these two provided the exception. On this occasion, Mitre received backing from an unexpected source when the Brazilian war minister, Ferraz, stated that he wanted him to remain as commander-inchief. Fortunately Pedro II, the emperor of Brazil, chose this moment to arrive at Uruguayana to observe operations. As he was legally the commander-in-chief, he had the opportunity to resolve the crisis, and it took him only a few moments to declare formally that he was delegating his duties to Mitre. Thereafter the arguments continued—though somewhat academically—for some years, as both Mitre and Porto Alegre continued to assert that they had been the overall commander at the siege, and thus the subsequent victory was due to them. By the middle of September, life inside the town was becoming increasingly difficult. The stocks of food had virtually run out, and the remaining cattle were weak and thin. Since they had no opportunities for resupply, it was obvious that the Paraguayans would soon either have to break out or give up. On the night of the 16th, the besiegers heard the sound of hammering and guessed that the Paraguayans were building canoes and rafts to enable them to escape, but deserters from the town indicated that Estigarribia was wavering, and, on 16 September, the Allies decided to launch an attack on the town. On the 18th, with bands playing, they advanced to within range of the Paraguayan trenches, and the final invitation to surrender was sent. This tactic was evidently successful, for the town was handed over later that day.

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The Paraguayan defenders presented an astonishing sight as they emerged to lay down their arms. They were in a terrible condition, many of them sick and emaciated and most half-naked and dirty. "It was the most comical, if not the most abject scene that South America has ever witnessed."5 one Brazilian officer wrote, as the soldiers stumbled out, weighed down by bundles containing scores of objects looted along their march. "One was wearing a woman's hat; another held a chair, others cooking pans, and all showed a satisfaction and joy that in many was due to the state of drunkenness in which they found themselves.*"6 When the Allies entered, they found that the town had been ransacked, with furniture and belongings piled up in the streets or used to build barricades; in some of the houses there were the remains of camp fires. Of Estigarribia's proud army of 12,500 men who had crossed the River Uruguay some four months before, barely 5.500 remained. The blame for this disaster can be divided evenly between Lopez and Estigarribia. Historians of the war have rightly criticized the Paraguayan dictator for sending an army so far into enemy territory with no apparent plan and with no effective means of resupply. For the last 40 days, those in Paraguay had no news of the fate of the column. The difficulties of communication were typified by the capture of one of Estigarribia's messengers, who was carrying a note desperately pleading for help. On the other hand. Estigarrfbia had consistently disobeyed instructions and was very much to blame for getting himself into the predicament. Lopez had ordered him to keep the River Ibicuy between himself and the ever-expanding allied army and had warned him against the danger of being trapped inside a town that could easily be surrounded, yet he had ignored both these pieces of advice. Furthermore, his failure to break out of Uruguayana and at least try to take on Canabarro's troops, and his lack of support for Duarte, sealed his fate. The loss of the expedition and the abject surrender of one of his most trusted officers came as a terrible blow to Lopez. When the news arrived in Humaita, he convoked the leaders of his army and launched into a diatribe in which he condemned Estigarribia as a traitor. When he had finished, he paused and waited for those present to say something, but everyone was stupefied by his reaction, and no one dared to make a sound. Lopez, infuriated by the silence, caustically remarked. "I see that this national disgrace, which we should all deeply deplore, has no effect on you. Get out immediately!"7 Later he called back his aide. Major Aveiro. who noticed that the president's eyes were moist, and he tore up his diary of military operations, which he wrote personally each day. saying that he did not want to take any notes from now on. Normally so controlled, his fury took everyone by surprise: not even his favorite son, Panchito. dared to approach him in the ensuing days.

11 The March to War: September to December 1865

At the end of July, while most of the allied attention was focused on the southward progress of the Paraguayan columns along the River Uruguay, Lopez had ordered Resquin to move down the Parana. As usual, it is not clear exactly what his plans were. Thompson thought that he may have had the idea of advancing all the way to Buenos Aires and having himself crowned Emperor of the River Plate. Apparently he even had two "omnibuses" fitted out for the journey, one as a writing room and one as a bedroom. Although it soon became clear that this scheme was not on his agenda, there was very little that would have prevented him from at least trying such an outrageous plan. Resquin had up to 30.000 men under his command, and after the move of General Paunero across country to the River Uruguay, all that was between him and the Argentine capital were a few thousand Correntino troops who had shown every reluctance to engage him in combat. The Brazilian squadron could have caused problems by interrupting his lines of supply and communication, but they had also shown little desire to become actively involved. Interestingly, Lopez's ambitions, or at least his courage, do not appear to have been as grand as his enemies depicted, and once again it seems that he was mainly waiting on circumstances. Resquin's comparatively huge armv was thus left with little to do, since it was used neither to extend significantly the Paraguayan advance along the Parana, nor to support the beleaguered armies on the River Uruguay. Instead, it limited itself to moving down as far as Bella Vista and occupying the line of the River Santa Lucia. And there it did precisely nothing. The only action came from the artillery of Major Bruguez. who was ordered to place his guns on the high cliffs at Cuevas. where the river narrowed, south of where the Brazilian fleet was

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moored. Barroso, realizing that he was now cut off, felt he had little option but to force a passage past the guns. On 12 August, he plucked up nerve to sail his ships in single file past the 30 cannon and rockets, which laid down heavy fire upon him. The Brazilians lost 21 dead, and each of their ships was hit, with the Amazonas taking at least 40 shots, though none of them was seriously damaged. Barroso took up a position at Rincon de Soto, just north of Goya. Curiously, the Paraguayans now controlled even more of the river than they had done before their apparently conclusive defeat at Riachuelo. However, the defeat of Estigarribia, and the subsequent movement of the allied troops across country toward the Parana, now convinced Lopez that the invasion was over. The Paraguayans had failed to get support of any note from the province of Corrientes, and their attempts to raise an army of some 800 Correntinos were defeated when this entire regiment was taken by surprise and scattered at Naranjitos on 21 September. Berges had concluded that the hopedfor uprising would not occur, and it was the realization of this that finally decided Lopez to abandon his scheme. Resquin was ordered back on 3 October, and he retreated at full speed, taking time only to loot, burn, destroy, and kill all animals that could not be brought with his army. Doubtless aware of the danger of appearing to delay after one of Lopez's orders, he did not even waste time on burying those who had died on the march. On 31 October, the Paraguayans began crossing the Parana back to their own country. Despite the fact that Bruguez's cannon had been embarked onto Paraguayan ships just a few miles north of the Brazilian fleet, and that it took the army 15 days, crossing mainly on rafts and canoes, to evacuate Corrientes, the Brazilian squadron did not fire one single shot against them. Barroso claimed that he was unable to move without orders from Tamandare, but his inactivity was inexcusable and had enormous consequences. It seems certain that if he had moved at least some of his boats up to Paso de la Patria, where the crossing took place, he could have inflicted significant damage on the Paraguayan army, and the combination of this and Estigarribia's defeat could have meant the end for Lopez. There were even rumors at this time that the dictator was ready to give up the fight and seek protection on a foreign vessel. As it was, the successful evacuation of the army, along with approximately 100,000 cattle, meant that the Paraguayans had high morale and no intention of surrendering. Lopez was confident enough to praise his troops and declare that "the enemy were never seen before us except to run faster than the ostriches in their country."1 Before he left, Berges ransacked the provincial archive for any evidence of prewar links between Mitre and Brazil, or Flores, but to his disappointment he found none. He also promised that Lopez would pay for all damage caused by the Paraguayan occupation when the war was concluded. Few could have guessed that it would be many years before this could happen. The effect on the allied commanders and armies of the news that the Paraguayans had escaped them was enormously depressing. Although an invasion of Paraguay had always been on the cards and had featured theoretically in Mitre's

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plan of 1 May, it had been hoped that it would be unnecessary. Quite apart from the now evident difficulties of such an action, there was also considerable doubt as to its political desirability. One immediate reaction brought this home. Urquiza had tried again to muster an army and had succeeded in raising 8,000 cavalry with which he was marching to join the main allied forces. On the realization that they would be required to invade Paraguay, his troops mutinied on 11 November. Again it was unclear whether they were following the wishes of their leader or whether it was their own principles that were at stake, but many among them clearly believed that while defending their own country was acceptable, invading another, for which they still felt considerable sympathy, was not. Flores, too, was unhappy, and both he and Mitre spoke of the very difficult campaign that would now follow. Contempt for the squadron was felt everywhere, not least in Brazil, where public opinion was becoming increasingly frustrated with the slowness and ineptitude of its navy. *** Meanwhile, the allied armies had begun their march across the province of Corrientes, from their bases in Uruguayana and Concordia toward the River Parana. Over 350 miles in distance and taking over three months, the march became something of an epic undertaking, and the combined problems of disorganization, lack of supplies, and the appalling climate and treacherous terrain made it a miserable and unforgettable experience for those who were forced to endure it. The weaknesses of organization were to be seen as early as 15 September, when the Brazilian 1st Corps moved a total of 5 miles. Picked up after them, strewn along the way, were no fewer than 629 muskets, 570 cartridge bags, 269 knapsacks, and numerous other pieces of equipment. The Argentine contingent did no better, and after its first day's march so much had been lost, broken, or discarded, and so many men had gone missing, that the column had to camp for several days to sort out the mess before it could move on. With misplaced enthusiasm, General Gelly decided that the next march should be 16 miles. He managed it, but it took nine days in camp to sort out the problems arising from it before his army could move off again. To add to the difficulties, the effects of the climate began to tell. Palleja noted that winter turned into summer overnight, with no spring in-between. Many of the men were unused to the swampy, suffocating lowlands of Corrientes, where the air was steamy and thick and the sun like a furnace. At least the Brazilians, who had died in droves during the winter at Concordia, now seemed more in their element, but for the Uruguayans and Argentines, who were used to the open, airy plains, this climate was insupportable. While the sun beat down on the often unprotected heads and bodies of the troops—for most of the uniforms were already rotten and spares were not to be had—even worse problems came from the damp. Long periods of torrential rain caused the ground to become waterlogged, and extensive swamps and bahados emerged. During the periods of sunshine these would rapidly begin to evaporate, causing extreme humidity,

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which drenched the soldiers in sweat and made the air thick and cloying and almost unbreathable. With the moisture from the ground and the heat from the sky, the troops and animals suffered terribly and became utterly exhausted. There was, admittedly, plenty of water to cool off in and to drink, but Palleja began to notice the phenomenon of troops plunging into the cold waters of the esteros or filling their stomachs from the same source and simply dying from the extreme change of temperature. The rams also swelled the rivers, so that crossing them became a serious problem. The names of these—Mocoreta, Corrientes, Santa Lucia, and Batel— would have been unknown even to most of those in the allied armies, but they soon became seared into their memories. The Brazilians seemed best equipped with their mobile bridge, consisting of small canoes, a rubber boat, and some rubber pontoons, but even this was not long enough to scale these larger torrents. Rafts had to be built, some big enough to take 80 men at a time, but these were unstable, and to get across the River Corrientes, which was 150 yards wide and with a strong current, enormous care was needed. It took a week to cross, and on one occasion 30 Brazilians drowned when their raft collapsed and was swept away. Dionisio Cerqueira, a private in the Volunteers of the Fatherland, observed the tragedy and was particularly dismayed because he knew that most of those who died could swim but, weighed down by their rifle, 100 cartridges, drenched uniform, and knapsack, they had little chance of survival. For the soldiers, crossing the immense bahados that formed after the rain was not so much of a problem, since they could generally wade through the waist-high water; however, the sudden cold was fatal for some, and Flores's column lost up to 500 horses in this way. Further dangers lurked in the woods. In early November, Palleja noted in his diary that two Argentine soldiers had been savaged to death by a jaguar. Both poisonous and constricting snakes could cause problems, although these were slight compared with the enormous discomfort caused by insects, especially flies and mosquitoes. They were less likely to bring disease than simply to inflict misery on soldiers whose morale under these conditions was wilting, the flies clustered in swarms, and each mouthful ot meat was covered with a thick black spread. Eyes and nostrils were filled with them, until in the evening they were relieved in their duties by the mosquitoes, whose insistent droning further tormented the men and made sleep a near-impossibility. Equally disliked were the body lice, which filled the crevices of clothes, though Osorio used to make a joke ot them and say that they were an essential part of a soldier's uniform, and that he personally would have no respect tor anyone who did not harbor at least a dozen. Cerqueira, however, hated them, and in his memoirs he noted that after all the other horrors of military life had faded trom memory, these miquelinas still loomed large. Not surprisingly, as a result of all these hardships, the men became sick. Many probably suffered from little more than exhaustion, and if they could not beg rides in the carts, they would sometimes allow themselves to be abandoned along

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the route. Others came down with the usual diseases of military life, particularly diarrhea, dysentery, typhus, and even measles—a particular killer of the Paraguayans, to whom it was virtually unknown. There were few medicines to be had and few doctors, and as there were hardly any villages along the way, there was nowhere that hospitals could be set up and the ill given a chance of survival. The baggage carts became laden with the diseased, who still had to put up with the same problems of heat and rain as the others. As early as 28 October. Palleja noted that there were over 600 sick in the Uruguayan army, which amounted to a fifth of its strength. Interestingly, 500 of these were Paraguayans. When they reached Mercedes, the situation was not much better, and he estimated the death rate there among the sick as being approximately 50%. He found diarrhea to be one of the worst problems, not because it was particularly fatal, but because it was so widespread and it made the soldiers weak and their recovery time so slow. In mid-October, the allied armies had made their rendezvous at Mercedes. While there, the erstwhile governor of Corrientes, Lagraha, had given a grand ball in honor of the allied generals. Those who were able to find gala uniforms and dress suitably for the occasion were surprised to see, after weeks of hellish marching, well-dressed ladies in their best ballgowns, tables covered with cloths, orchestras, and all the benefits of gracious living that they had been without for so long. Thereafter, the army split again, with Mitre and Osorio moving separately toward Bella Vista on the bank of the Parana and then upwards, and Flores moving northwards through the center of the province toward the High Parana and then westwards, to rendezvous with the other columns. Flores had chosen this route because, although it was longer, he thought that there would be more cattle, since the Paraguayans had taken fewer of the available animals. He may have been right in this respect, but the route was extremely difficult and cost him dearly in terms of the lives of men and horses. By the end of December, the Allies were situated in three large camps in the north-west corner of the province of Corrientes. gathering their strength after the rigors of the march and preparing themselves for the coming invasion of Paraguay. There they had been joined by General Castro, who had moved up the west bank of the River Uruguay toward Candelaria and Encarnacion, in order to eject the Paraguayans who still remained in the province of Corrientes with the cattle that they were attempting to steal. After a skirmish at San Carlos the Paraguayans retreated back across the river, leaving behind 20,000 to 30.000 animals. Castro marched his army westwards, parallel with the High Parana, and he was able to confirm, by the time he reached the main allied armies in December, that all Paraguayans had been expelled from Argentine territory.

12 The Invasion of Paraguay: January to April 1866

The Allies now occupied a broad front stretching from the town of Corrientes across to the village of Itati. The Brazilians were based around Laguna Brava in the west, with the Argentines in the center at Ensenadita and the Uruguayans and the vanguard on the far right at San Cosme. The separation was deliberate and was agreed upon for reasons of health and food supply, but the distances between the three armies and the poor communications were weaknesses that the Paraguayans were soon to pick up on. The allied soldiers now had the opportunity to relax and recuperate, and the Brazilians, in particular, were quick to make the best of the situation, with the soldiers billeted in straw huts roofed with palm fronds, while the officers even had houses made of brick. There were fewer exercises, and these were limited to the cooler times of early morning and late evening. The men had time to make their own furniture and bring in home comforts, so that by night the sounds of violins, violas, and flutes enlivened the darkness. There were also theaters, dance halls, games, and banquets organized for the troops, and nearby Corrientes provided women and further opportunities for entertainment. The soldiers amused themselves by trying to catch alligators in the lagoons, and visitors to the camps were surprised at the pleasant atmosphere and the agreeable way in which officers slung hammocks between orange trees to enjoy the shade during the long afternoons. However the pleasures of inactivity soon wore off. It was now midsummer, and in the thickly wooded areas the heat was intense and there was little fresh air. Shade could indeed be found, but there the flies and mosquitoes gathered to

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continue their relentless torment of the soldiers. Palleja had ordered a thermometer from home so that he could record the temperatures, and on one occasion he measured 48°C in the sun. Frequent storms would bring some relief, and temperatures might drop as much as 15°C in an hour, but these would cause flooding and humidity to further stifle the atmosphere. Perhaps the worst of the problems, as January turned into February and the months stretched on into April with no sign of the longed-for invasion, was boredom. Jose de Elizalde wrote to his brother, the foreign minister of Argentina, expressing his disgust at having to wait so long to cross into Paraguay. "No one remembers us," he complained, "the only ones who do are our families, while those who have no relations in the army want some triumph so as to have an excuse to enjoy themselves at the cost of the poor Argentines who died, yet when we return they will treat us like fools."1 Francisco Paz wrote to his father, the vice president, asking for books to while away the time: any topic would do, other than the manuals on tactics that were the only reading matter available to him. The provision of food remained a difficulty. As ever, the Brazilians seemed the best organized, and they began to build up Corrientes as a supply depot for their army. They were able to provide meat, flour, and salt for their men on a regular basis, and they remained the envy of the other two armies. The Uruguayans were beginning to improve their system, and Palleja's diary commented on more regular supplies of meat. Unfortunately, the custom of slaughtering the steers every two days and expecting the men to save up the food for the second day was made impossible by the high temperatures. Despite the fact that they were camped in their own territory, the Argentines, who seemed to have delegated such matters to the already overburdened hands of Vice President Paz and Elizalde, still found it almost impossible to organize an efficient supply of food for their men. Morale was raised, however, by the eventual arrival of uniforms. The Uruguayans had marched through Corrientes in the same outfits in which they had departed from Montevideo more than a year previously. Although Palleja was grateful to be able to clothe his men at long last, he would have been still happier if his government had supplied knapsacks to carry their spare kit and also boots, which did not seem to come under the heading of essential equipment. On arriving on the coast, Mitre found that the summer uniforms he had requested had arrived, but that they were totally unsuitable and gave no protection at all against the sun. He decided to make the best of it and made a point of parading around the camp wearing the regulation-issue cap to try to get the men to accept it. Fortunately, the straw hats, which were more suitable for the conditions, soon arrived. Another difficulty for the Uruguayan army was the behavior of the Paraguayans within its ranks. They had already shown their displeasure at having to serve with the Allies, and now, so close to their own country, they took the opportunity to desert and make their way home across the river. Palleja urged Flores to have

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them disarmed and treated as prisoners; at the beginning of January this was done, and they were shipped back to Montevideo. The problems in the allied camp were mere inconveniences in comparison with those experienced across the river. It is clear even at this, comparatively early, stage in the war that Paraguay was already in desperate straits. The most urgent problem facing the army was that of manpower. Although figures have been exaggerated, it seems that disease had spread through the troops, who were unused to the swampy lowlands of Corrientes, with devastating results. Centurion reckoned that as many as 35,000 men had already been lost since the war began, most of them to disease. While diarrhea and dysentery were illnesses that affected most of the troops, due mainly to poor water supply, it was smallpox and measles that were the most deadly, probably because the Paraguayans had seldom been exposed to them. The hospitals were overwhelmed by the epidemics, and doctors had to rely on wine and sugar as curatives, since there were no drugs available. Masterman was aware that more than medicines, the sick needed proper food, and that dysenteric patients fed just on boiled meat were unlikely to recover. He mentioned this to Lopez, but the latter was unhelpful and remarked sneeringly. "If you have no better advice, as a doctor, to give than that, do not come to me again."2 The men who had been lost so far had to be replaced, but already the country was stretched to the limits in terms of the able-bodied. Somehow Lopez was able to raise his strength to 30,000 men, but it was obvious that these were not troops of high caliber. A depressing picture of the situation was given by the French minister, Laurent-Cochelet, who saw the situation from his residence in Asuncion. As early as May 1865, he noted that 14-year-olds were being called up and that many of these seemed weak and inadequate for the task. They had had barely a month's instruction and were sent to Humaita without tents, in thin shirts and trousers, with only a poncho to protect them from the cold. Their meat rations were insufficient, and, while the wealthier soldiers could buy extra food, the poor were obliged to go without. Despite the patriotic claims in the government newspaper. El Semanario. the soldiers did not look happy to be going, and many, to his eyes, seemed "half savage and uncontrollable."3 By September. Lopez was even conscripting state slaves into the army, and the following month the short-sighted and the lame were included in the roll. Dr. Stewart even fell out with Lopez at this time for failing to pass as fit conscripts who were barely capable of lifting their muskets. Laurent-Cochelet judged that the mood was beginning to turn against the war. He noted that the police did not crack down so readily on complaints or critical gossip, and that after the defeat at Riachuelo. opinion was becoming less fanatical and more restrained. Yet spies were everywhere, and women who accompanied their children or husbands to the boats kept their faces deep inside their shawls, so they should not be seen disobeying the edicts against crying in public. Already, it seemed, the people were resigned to losing the war. In an attempt to crack down on any opposition, Lopez became more ruthless. To sow terror

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among the population, the prisons were cleared of inmates, who were sent to various parts of the country to be executed in public, along with deserters who had begun to resort to brigandage. When one citizen complained about the number of fiestas he was forced to attend to celebrate Lopez's birthday in 1865, especially in view of the recent defeat at Yatay. his whole family was arrested and put into irons. Centurion, too, experienced problems at this time. He was not received by Lopez on his return to Paraguay, and he was particularly alarmed when he was stopped a few days later by Madam Lynch, who told him that the president was "very annoyed" with him4 and advised him to write an immediate apology. Unaware of the precise nature of his sins. Centurion wrote a long exculpatory letter, which only succeeded in infuriating Lopez more. He ordered his aide to be reduced to the rank of common soldier and sent immediately to the front line, and only the intervention of a friend prevented this from happening. Centurion was becoming aware that Lopez only wished to listen to criticisms of people, and that once he had heard these, it was virtually impossible to change his mind. Aware of the low morale caused by the waiting, the diseases, the lack of food, and the death of almost all the 100.000 cattle brought back from Argentina through eating a variety of grass to which they were unused, Lopez tried to raise the spirits of his troops. The mast from the destroyed Brazilian vessel, Jequitinonha, was raised in the center of the camp, and a marquee set up around it, where dances would regularly take place. Women were invited to attend, and Madam Lynch proved an able dancer. Popular tunes were played, especially "La Palomita," which became something of a favorite with the Paraguayan soldiers. Every Sunday, Lopez would go to hear Mass, along with his officers and many of the soldiers, and afterwards he made a point of sitting down in front of his headquarters and chatting to the men. Perhaps surprisingly, given his natural arrogance, he had a gift for making easy conversation and inspiring them. He would banter and tell jokes, and he clearly enjoyed himself in their company. Later he would talk to the officers, though he often showed himself more critical and less at ease with them. On one occasion he even organized a magic lantern show for the troops. He had ordered the equipment before the blockade, but, having mislaid the instructions, he had no idea how to work it, and so he called for Masterman and Thompson to officiate. These two showed rather less than the necessary degree of seriousness, for. in the words of the former. many of the slides represented battle scenes from the recent Franco-Italian campaign, but we took the liberty of rechristening them thus: "Battle of Copenhagen, between the Persians and the Dutch." "Ah! that was a terrible affair," said Lopez patronisingly, to the bishop. 'The field of Trafalgar after the battle, Mamelukes removing the wounded." "What Christian humanity, sire!" softly observed the bishop. And so we went on. "Capture of the Jungfrau in the final charge at Magenta," cried Thompson, with an unsteady voice, and kicking my shins under the table; and "Death of General Orders at the moment of victory," was the title of the

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next, which sounded very imposing in Spanish, and closed the series. This was all very well for one night; but we had succeeded so well that the performance was to be continued till further orders, and that was no joke.5 Since Masterman was to spend over a year, in terrible conditions, as a prisoner of Lopez, the joke may indeed have been finally on him. Yet the atmosphere in the camp was often agreeable, and Centurion remembered on many occasions lying on the grass after dinner, smoking cigars, and chatting to his friends about the issues of the day. Lopez, himself, was often in good humor and would even sing a short song after dinner. He had a liking for port and cigars, as well as draughts, which he used to play with the bishop, and he would sometimes tell jokes at his table, though he was less happy when others did so. Yet he also displayed alarming signs of paranoia. He increased the security cordon around his headquarters, first to double, and then triple lines of sentries at night. On one occasion Thompson came to speak to him and, while waiting, chatted to the sergeant of the guard. He was surprised by a sudden commotion and the appearance of one of Lopez's aides, who instructed him to write down in detail the conversation that he had had with the sergeant. Thompson did so, although he thought the talk of little importance, since it was limited to whether Queen Victoria always wore her crown in public and whether Thompson would wear his Paraguayan uniform when he visited Britain. He handed in the report at 7 A.M. the next morning, but this was not quite early enough, for the sergeant had already been executed and all the soldiers of the guard had received a hundred lashes. A stranger incident, and one that may give further clues to Lopez's character and intentions, occurred in late November, when the Paraguayan gunboat, Pirabebe, flying the flag of truce, sailed down toward the Brazilian fleet with a message from Lopez to Mitre. The letter consisted of a long, rambling complaint against alleged misconduct by the Allies during the war. Foremost among the allegations was that Paraguayans had been forced to serve in their armies, contrary to the customs of war, and that the Allies had sent over an assassin to kill him. The first accusation seemed incontrovertible—although Mitre strongly denied it, claiming that some of the prisoners had volunteered freely while others were given noncombatant roles—but the second was probably a figment of Lopez's increasingly paranoid imagination. The basis for the assertion was the capture of a Paraguayan deserter from the allied army, who was armed with a modern and powerful rifle. Lopez, suspicious of all Paraguayans who had changed sides, immediately assumed that he was an assassin and ordered him to be tortured until he confessed. This slender evidence was enough for him to assume the worst. Yet the letter is more interesting than its contents suggest, especially in consideration of why Lopez might have sent it. Certainly, he had sufficiently arro-

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gant a disposition to assume that he had the right to complain about such matters, despite having committed many improprieties himself, and it may be that he was genuinely annoyed at Mitre and simply wanted, and expected to get, an apology. Yet the fact that he published both letters in El Semanario, where they could be read by foreign observers, suggests that he may have had the deeper motive of wanting to gain the sympathy of foreign powers by pointing out the supposedly barbarous nature of the Allies. In this he was, to some extent, successful, and initially there were reactions from South American and European countries. However, there may have been an even more complex explanation for his behavior. The pilot of the vessel that brought the note told the Correntino newspaper, Ea Esperanza, that Lopez was tired of the war, did not have the means to sustain such a huge army for much longer, and therefore wanted peace. Commander Kennedy, who was in Corrientes at the time, also heard talk that Lopez was on the point of giving up, and two months later rumors ran around the allied camps that a peace conference was about to take place, sponsored by the American minister, Washburn. In truth, there was little in Lopez's note to suggest that he was attempting a peace initiative, especially since, in strong language, he vigorously condemned the Allies' behavior; yet there is a possibility that he may have been trying to open some channel of communication with Mitre. Lopez's character did not permit apologies or talk of surrender, but it is curious that he should have chosen this moment, which represented a turning point in the war, to correspond with his enemies. It could also be seen as curious that his enemies did not take this opportunity to talk to him. After all, the Paraguayans had been removed from Argentina, and thus there was no ostensible reason for that country, at least, to continue the war. Certainly, Paraguay still occupied Mato Grosso, but there was always the possibility of discussing with Brazil a peaceful handover, together with compensation, without recourse to further conflict. Although it was unlikely, from what was known of Lopez's character, that such an end could have been achieved, yet it must be remembered that he was then unaware of the terms of the Treaty of the Triple Alliance and could not have known the real intentions of his enemies. If Argentina and Brazil had really wanted to avoid a war, this was the moment when they could have at least attempted negotiations, and even if these had been unsuccessful, they would have served the purpose of making Lopez appear the warmonger. In fact, it appears that Jose Marmol, Argentine minister in Rio de Janeiro, may have presented a project for peace at this time, but he was dissuaded from proceeding by both allied governments. In the event they made absolutely no effort to talk to Lopez, and Mitre's comment that the Allies would "persevere until [they] obtain full and most complete reparation of your aggression,"6 offered no letout whatsoever. It can only be assumed, therefore, that no matter how difficult the campaign ahead, the Allies had no wish for peace at this time. This may have been because they were, understandably enough, mistrustful of Lopez and considered that his removal really was essential to the future peace of the region, but it was more

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probably down to less noble considerations. The simplest explanation is that the Treaty of the Triple Alliance really did mean what it said, and that the purpose of the war was less to win back land that had been lost than to take huge chunks of Paraguay, and this necessitated an invasion. Furthermore, the treaty was such a binding document that none of its signatories would have dared extricate themselves at such an early stage. Such had been the buildup and level of commitment from each of the countries, in terms both of human and material resources and of trust in each other, that it was really far too complicated not to go on with the war. What sort of suspicions would have been aroused by a suggestion of peace at this stage from any one of them? The propaganda put out by the Allies spoke always of the justification for the war being the need to get rid of Lopez, and this provided a convenient excuse, both for the invasion of Paraguay and for avoiding a consideration of how to adopt a less damaging solution to the problem. To be fair to them, Lopez had been showing few signs of wanting to give up the struggle. Although his forces had been driven out of the north-east corner of Corrientes. he now took the opportunity to launch raids across the river in order to upset the local militias. These units had a huge area to cover, and their numbers were depleted, with one of their divisions down to only 200 men, so that Lopez could choose his moment in which to land troops to steal cattle and to send the defenders scurrying here and there in frantic pursuit. This game ended temporarily when, at the end of December, Osorio sent 4,000 Brazilian reinforcements into this sector, and Lopez now turned his attention to the area nearer the town of Corrientes. Facing each other across the mile-wide river were the two villages of Paso de la Patria—one in Paraguay, where the bulk of Lopez's forces were stationed, and the other near the village of Corrales, on the Argentine side. Just down from the Paraguayan camp, on the shore of the river, was the small fort of Itapira, which guarded the entrance to a bay, and from here Lopez could launch canoes to take 30 or 40 men at a time across to Argentina. It is said that the raids began here on 3 December, when, after ordering his artillery to fire on a group of Correntino soldiers on the far side of the river. Lopez observed through his telescope that they were laughing and mocking him. That day he sent across several canoes packed with infantry, which had a brief skirmish against a detachment of General Caceres's division before being forced to retreat by the arrival of reinforcements. Two days later he tried again, this time with 850 infantry, together with three light guns. The invaders stayed for a brief while and then left before reinforcements could move up to eject them. The arrival of the main allied armies in mid-December put a temporary stop to these amusements, though in early January Lopez started again. Centurion criticized these raids for their lack of purpose, and he described Lopez's reasons for sending them as "quixotic." In every case the Paraguayans were beaten back, often with casualties, and little benefit seemed to have been gained. However, he may have been missing the point. The purpose of the raids

Paso de la Patria, December 1865-April 1866

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was to unsettle and harass the allied forces as well as to raise morale in his own army. In fact, the raids were too small to give any particular worry to the Allies, and most of their soldiers were largely unaware of them, since it was left to the local cavalry to repel them, but in terms of Lopez's own troops, they had more positive results. The Paraguayans seemed to have suffered nothing but reverses in recent months, so these hit-and-run affairs, which gave experience and tested the nerve and training of many of their soldiers, enabled them to strike a blow at the enemy at comparatively little cost to themselves. Lopez did not seem to be aiming at any major tactical advantage, and he was not expecting the Allies to give up and go home. His intentions seemed clear from the way that these raids were prepared and conducted. It was a great honor to be chosen to go on them, and there was always a large number of volunteers. Individuals saw it as a chance to gain some glory and test their courage, and as the men embarked on the canoes, either Lopez himself or Madam Lynch was often there to hand out presents, such as cigars. The canoes left in something of a gala atmosphere, the rowers deliberately standing up to demonstrate their lack of concern for the risk. Whether much was achieved on the other side was unimportant; the main significance was that the Paraguayans were fighting back. For the Allies, the raids were humiliating, and the fact that the Paraguayans seemed to have free rein over the river and could send canoes across with impunity infuriated them. The Argentines, therefore, decided to lay a trap. On 30 January, Colonel Conesa of the Buenos Aires militia received word of a large Paraguayan force massing at Paso de la Patria. The next morning he came with 1,900 troops to lay an ambush, hoping to put an end to the raids once and for all. The Paraguayans, confident of their apparent ability to move into Argentina whenever they chose, decided to send their strongest expedition to date under the command of Lieutenant Colonel Diaz, with 1,200 infantry supported by rockets and artillery, the latter stationed on an island in the river from where they would have a clear field of fire on the village of Corrales. On the morning of the 31st, Conesa set up his men in ambush in trees on the far side of a small stream crossed by a bridge that the Paraguayans were expected to use. About midday, some 300 Paraguayans were seen moving toward the bridge close to where the Argentines lay in ambush. As it was the first time that his battalion had faced the enemy, Conesa decided that this was an opportune moment for a speech. Irrespective of the normal custom in ambushes, where silence and surprise are required conditions, he launched into an enthusiastic oration, which was matched only by the emotional cheers and vivas from his men. Not surprisingly, the Paraguayans quickly became aware of the Argentine forces lying in wait for them and promptly turned the tables on their ambushers. Conesa was obliged to make a rapid counterattack, and only after heavy fighting did he manage to force the Paraguayans back over the stream and all the way down the track to their landing-place. Here the Argentines came into full view of the Paraguayan artillery situated on the island, which opened fire and forced them to take refuge in the bushes and

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trees in the center of the opening. The Paraguayans had also taken up defensive positions in the woods to the east of Corrales, and, reinforced by a second wave of 200 men and later the 700 remaining troops under Diaz, they laid down heavy fire on their attackers. Since it was too dangerous to launch an assault on the Paraguayan positions, which were randomly scattered throughout the wood, stalemate developed, and the firing continued until the Argentines ran out of ammunition. At this moment Conesa resorted to a bayonet charge, which succeeded in pushing many of the Paraguayans back to the river, but, noticing that more enemy reinforcements had arrived, the Argentine commander decided at sunset to withdraw his forces. The Paraguayans remained encamped on hostile territory throughout the night and were allowed to return home unopposed the next morning. The Battle of Corrales had achieved little for either side, and the casualties had been excessively heavy. The Paraguayans had lost over 500 men, and while the Argentine casualties seemed lower—approximately 300 dead and wounded— they still amounted to 25% of Conesa's force. It had really been a disaster for both sides. The Paraguayans had been overconfident and had received a heavy setback. For the Allies, several problems had been revealed, not least the poor leadership of Conesa and the difficulties of communication, which meant that by the time Mitre had become aware of the battle, he was unable to send reinforcements before it ended. Furthermore, it highlighted the poor state of supplies in the Argentine army, resulting in Conesa only having 25 rounds for each of his cannon. After the battle, the Buenos Aires division was praised for its courage, but others were more cautious. Jose de Elizalde strongly criticized the senior officers for their handling of the action and suggested that they would be judged severely by public opinion, while Mitre tempered his praise by noting that, in future, Argentine soldiers should not go to such lengths because "real glory consists in winning with the least possible sacrifice."8 Lopez was delighted with the resilience of his men and declared the battle a victory, striking a medal for the survivors. Yet the consequences of the battle, in terms of the war as a whole, were negligible. Lopez was never particularly worried about casualties as long as he had more men available for action, and ten days later 43 canoes and one steamer carried up to 2,000 Paraguayan infantry back to Corrales, forcing the defending Correntinos to retreat. They stayed for the rest of the day and then returned of their own free will. Seven days later another expedition followed an almost identical course, except that this time there was a firefight with an Argentine detachment before the Paraguayans sailed back. The point was made: the Paraguayans were not simply going to lie down and wait for the Allies to invade them. Throughout the months of January and February 1866, the initiative in the war, ironically, seemed to be with Lopez. He made a mockery of the allied blockade by sending ships and canoes up and down the river, deliberately in sight of allied positions, which landed whenever and wherever they chose and

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appeared to do more or less what they liked. As well as this, he sent spies across and took information from those Paraguayans who still managed to desert from the allied forces, so that he was far better informed about the situation in the allied armies than they were about him. For in truth, allied intelligence was nonexistent, and Mitre had no reliable information about Paraguayan strengths, or positions, or the lie of the land across the river, and there were no maps available. Lopez was therefore aware when, at the end of January, General Suarez, deputy to Flores, who had just returned to Montevideo, moved camp with the vanguard nearer to the village of Itati. In doing this, Suarez was disobeying strict instructions not to stretch the allied lines even more. Flores had indicated that if the vanguard was to move, it should be closer to the bulk of the allied army, not further away. Suarez was now 40 kilometers from the rest of the army, along poor paths, and thus was virtually cut off. Lopez moved troops along his side of the river so that they were opposite Itati, and on several occasions he sent steamers packed with soldiers close to the village, but without landing. Mitre was aware of the danger and ordered the vanguard to move away, and on the night of 17 February, Suarez struck camp as quietly as possible and moved further back toward San Cosme. Two days later the Paraguayans attacked Itati with approximately 3,000 men. The few defenders retreated back into the bush and allowed the invaders to destroy the village. Given the size of the Paraguayan force, it is probable that this was a serious attempt by Lopez to take on the allied vanguard and inflict a significant defeat upon it. The Paraguayans may have been disappointed to have missed their quarry, but the Allies were not much happier at yet another example of their apparent inability to prevent Lopez from doing as he pleased. The main reason that Lopez was able at this time apparently to control the course of the war was the absence of the Brazilian squadron. This could have become a serious problem, dividing Argentina from Brazil, if it had not been for the fact that the Brazilians were equally fed up with the poor showing of their navy. The blame for this has to be put down both to the uncertainty of the command structure laid down in the Treaty of the Triple Alliance, in which the navy was apparently independent from the rest of the allied forces, and also to the behavior of its commander. Admiral Tamandare was a man who inspired little confidence or respect from any of those who knew or served under him. He owed his position to his aristocratic connections and was pompous and arrogant, as well as jealous of any potential challenge to his power. He was not a warrior, and he showed no taste for becoming directly involved in the action. He spent the first year of the war flitting between the fleshpots of Buenos Aires and Montevideo and did not even join his squadron until March 1866. In the meantime, Barroso, who appears to have equaled him in incompetence and lack of initiative, claimed that he was unable to move without orders from above. After the victory at Riachuelo, which should have enabled the squadron to play an active and decisive role in the war, he had been forced further and further down the river, so that although the

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blockade remained in place, the Paraguayans were able, at least for the time being, to neutralize allied movements and prevent any invasion of their country. So for four months the Allies remained around Corrientes, chafing at their inability to resist Paraguayan raids or to cross the river and carry on the war into enemy territory. Mitre was becoming frantic with frustration. He had already clashed with Tamandare at Uruguayana and retained a poor opinion of him. For his part, the admiral was incensed by Argentine attempts to force him to hurry, and at the end of November he wrote a furious letter to his war minister, Ferraz, complaining of Mitre's "vanity"9 and his attempts to overrule Brazilian generals at any opportunity and subordinate the Brazilian army to his own. He particularly resented the fact that Osorio was apparently siding with Mitre against him. Rawson. the Argentine interior minister, neatly summed up the admiral by noting that "although he has so much steam in his boiler it still needs a tugboat to get him moving."10 Tamandare gave excuses for not joining the squadron and moving upriver to support the invasion of Paraguay by pointing out that the fleet was comparatively weak and that it would be no match for the Paraguayan river defenses. There was a certain truth in this, for at that time none of the Brazilian ships had suitable protection, and Tamandare was indeed waiting for them to be given iron cladding, and also for more gunboats and monitors to be built, which would enable the fleet to play a serious part in helping the allied armies win the war.n Furthermore, not all the ships had the right draught for the comparatively shallow waters of the Rivers Parana and Paraguay, whose medium depth, between August and December, was still only 12 feet, and from May till August less than this. Since the Brazilian ironclads drew 12 to 13 feet and some of the wooden ships even more, it was clear that the admiral had some justification in not wishing to risk his navy. As the Paraguayans had evacuated Corrientes in October—that is, during the medium levels of the river—the fleet may have had some excuse for not sailing up to Tres Bocas and harassing the retreating enemy, though not for its failure to deal with the canoes with which Lopez was launching almost daily attacks across the river during January. There may well have been another motive for Tamandare's reluctance. At this point, his cousin, Porto Alegre, was marching up the bank of the River Uruguay with an army, which, it was proposed, could be used for invading Paraguay from the east. Tamandare could well have envisaged using his squadron to support this invasion and thus gain glory for the Brazilians and, more particularly, for his family, instead of lending his support to an invasion at Paso de la Patria, where the major credit would have gone to the Argentines. A letter written on 24 February by the admiral and addressed to the marine minister showed his considerable enthusiasm for supporting Porto Alegre's prospective invasion, and both at Uruguayana, and later at Curupaity Tamandare indicated greater interest in his personal and familial affairs than in the general conduct of the war. At the end of January, Mitre sent an aide to Buenos Aires to talk to Tamandare and urge him to make haste. This seems to have had some effect, since on 8

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February the admiral finally embarked to go and join the squadron, though he still took 13 days rather than the usual 5 to make the journey to Corrientes, allegedly to save coal. On the 25th there was a war council to celebrate his arrival, in which Mitre attempted to paper over the cracks by declaring that the invasion was now in Tamandare's hands. Ever excitable, the Brazilian admiral declared that he would transport the entire army across the river in one day without the loss of a single man. He was prone to these wild statements and in early December had already declared that nothing could stop him, and that success would be "very certain."11 He had annoyed Mitre by referring to a "bridge of boats"12 that he would construct across the river, not ever having seen the size of the Parana, nor having any idea of the problems of transporting troops. Mitre considered that his plans were "buildings raised on sand"13 and privately poured scorn upon them, yet he knew that the success of the invasion really was in the hands of the Brazilian fleet and that in public he had to do everything to appease its commander. Certainly the squadron, when it arrived, was an impressive sight. It now had 29 ships, including four ironclads, with a total of 112 guns and 3,500 men. Added to this were the five armed steamers flying the Argentine flag. Considering that the Paraguayan naval defenses at Paso de la Patria were virtually limited to the two guns at the Itapiru fortress, the Allies should have felt confident in their abilities to make a successful crossing. By rights, the arrival of the allied fleet should have ensured its control over the river, and in general it did, but Lopez was not one to take such a situation lying down. On 22 March, just two days after the arrival of the fleet at Tres Bocas, the captured steamer, Gualeguay, left Paso de la Patria towing a single chata. Hugging the shore, it rounded the Itapiru headland and sailed about a mile westwards to within range of the Brazilian ships. From there, the chata, with a skeleton crew, commenced firing on the fleet. The Brazilians could hardly have seen such a small target, low down as it was in the water and blending in with the vegetation on the river bank, and hitting it proved almost impossible. There were no such problems for the Paraguayans, however, and their shells quickly began scoring hits on the Brazilian boats. Two ironclads then approached the chata and fired on it, and the crew leapt into the water and began swimming for the bank. But as the Brazilians moved closer, a Paraguayan infantry company, hidden in the undergrowth, opened fire and beat them back. The Brazilians succeeded in destroying the gun on the chata, but the craft was later rescued by the Paraguayans. Over the succeeding six days, exactly the same scenario took place. Watched by Lopez through a telescope from the verandah of his headquarters, and eagerly by as many Paraguayans as could catch a glimpse, the Gualeguay emerged with its faithful chata in tow to take on its greatly superior opponent. On the 26th, the Brazilian gunners had slightly more luck when a direct hit on the chata blew up its powder supply and sank it. The Paraguayans later still managed to salvage it, and thereafter they left ammunition supplies on the bank. On the 27th they took

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their revenge in spectacular style. A shell from the chata, more by luck than good judgment, succeeded in finding its way through a window on the bridge of the Tamandare. It exploded within the confined space and sent shards of metal, as well as pieces of the iron chain designed to protect the windows, flying murderously around the room. Those inside, mostly officers, stood little chance. Five were killed and several more mutilated, with one being sliced completely in half. The next day, however, the second chata was put out of action when a shell hit and destroyed its gun. Delighting in his sport, Lopez ordered a further chata to be sent down from Humaita, so that he could keep up the pressure. This one, however, was intercepted by the Brazilians, and this put an end to the attacks. Although they had served little military purpose and had failed to disrupt the preparations for the invasion, which were still going ahead, they had, nevertheless, upset the Brazilian fleet and made Tamandare even more cautious. Yet their main effect was to raise Paraguayan morale. As with the raids across the river, there was no shortage of volunteers to man the chatas, and their success, however minimal, gave the whole army a sense that it was fighting back. Lopez and his men regarded the events with considerable humor and a sense of defiance, and it provided a further indication to the Allies that the Paraguayans were going to make a fight of it. The arrival of the fleet also led to an increase in military activity. The guns of each side had been able to reach across the river, though not to bombard the main concentrations of soldiers, but now Tamandare's fleet could move much closer to the Paraguayan shore, and its shells could reach further inland, and this sparked more frequent exchanges of fire from both sides. Observers noted, however, that the Paraguayan artillery was usually more controlled and more accurate than that of the Allies. The most exposed Paraguayan position was the fort at Itapiru, which could now be more accurately shelled, as could the road linking it to Paso de la Patria. The fort was unspectacular—about 20 yards long, consisting of walls of clay and stone, with a flagstaff and a shed and two 48-pounder guns and a mortar, defended by only a handful of soldiers. However, it was raised some 20 feet above the level of the river and therefore stood out as an aiming mark, providing useful target practice for the allied gunners. It was not a major military objective, but it could prove a nuisance to Brazilian ships sailing along the High Parana, and it certainly dissuaded Tamandare from moving his ships even closer into the shore to bombard the Paraguayan headquarters. About 1,000 yards in front of the fort was a small sandbank, covered with vegetation, which rose only a few feet above the general level of the river. Mitre was determined that this should be captured by the Allies, since it would enable them to control the channel between Isla Caraya and the Paraguayan shore and would allow far more accurate shelling to take place. Therefore, on the night of 5 April, 900 Brazilian infantry under the command of Lieutenant Colonel Cabrita, along with eight guns, a mortar and a rocket stand, landed on the island and began digging themselves in.

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By daybreak they had made good progress in constructing two long trenches facing the Paraguayan shore. To assist them, the fleet launched a bombardment against Itapiru, and later that morning the guns on the sandbank were able to join in, so that by the next day the walls of the fort had been virtually destroyed. Incensed by this provocation, Lopez ordered Diaz to expel the Brazilians from the sandbank. Diaz prepared a force of 1,200 men, who would attack in three waves under cover of darkness. During the days and nights prior to this operation, the firing seemed to be virtually nonstop, and the Brazilian defenders had very little sleep. They might have been forewarned by the fact that large numbers of troops could be seen gathering at the fort during the day, and that on the night of the 10th the Paraguayan guns fell silent as Diaz prepared his expedition to move against the island. Suspicious, Cabrita ordered a track to be made to the rear to facilitate an emergency evacuation and instructed his sentries to be particularly vigilant. In the early hours of the next morning, the first wave of Paraguayans paddled their canoes onto the beach of the sandbank so stealthily that they succeeded in landing almost undetected by the Brazilian sentries. Those who were spotted, however, were less than discreet in their response to being challenged. "Brazilians," replied one, in Spanish. "Paraguayans who have come to kill you monkeys,"14 said another. The Brazilians, heavy with sleep, resisted bravely, but when the second wave of Paraguayans landed, it seemed that they would be overrun. These fresh troops, however, were dismounted cavalry and were perhaps unused to infantry tactics, for instead of pressing home the assault on the Brazilian trenches in the center, where they would surely have prevailed, they took cover and engaged in a largely futile firefight. As the Brazilians were well dug in, they were able to defend their position with relative ease, and when their artillery began firing canister shot at the densely packed invaders, the battle started turning in their favor. Yet by daybreak their ammunition was running seriously low, and attempts to resupply them from the Argentine side were frustrated by a lack of oars for the canoes, forcing Cabrita to order a bayonet charge to expel the attackers. Surprised by this turn of events, the Paraguayans began retreating back to the shoreline, pressed by the Brazilians, who were flailing at them with rifle butts, bayonets, and daggers. At this moment the Brazilian gunboats that were stationed close to the island—the Henrique Martins. Greenhalgh. and Chuy—came up in support and opened fire both on the Paraguayan soldiers and on their canoes. The battle now became a rout, as one by one the canoes were destroyed and the invading soldiers desperately piled into the few remaining ones to paddle back with their hands or else attempted to swim toward the Paraguayan shore. On the Argentine side, allied soldiers, eager to know how the battle was progressing, were delighted to hear the sounds of the Brazilian national anthem being played by the military band on the island, and thus deduced that their side had won. The Paraguayans returned with virtually all their canoes damaged or lost and having sustained heavy casualties. Over 600 had been killed or wounded, compared to

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150 Brazilians. Centurion's brother, Fernando, a corporal in the 9th Battalion, had to swim back supporting a ramrod discharged accidentally by a Brazilian infantryman, which had pierced his throat and face. It was successfully removed by a surgeon, and he was immediately promoted to ensign by Lopez. However, one of the Paraguayan commanders, Lieutenant Romero, had allowed himself to be captured, and Lopez forced his wife to publish a letter in El Semanario disowning him as a traitor. The battle was a blow for Lopez. His defenses were still under attack from the sandbank, and the fort of Itapiru was now effectively neutralized. Control of the little island also meant that the Allies could cross with less hindrance when they chose to do so. Centurion criticized him for wasting his troops on what he regarded as a comparatively unimportant target, but the blame should really have gone to the second wave of Paraguayans, who chose not to press home their attack and take advantage of the surprise inflicted on the Brazilians. Even so, there was a sting in the tail. Colonel Cabrita, the hero of the hour, had just boarded a raft towed by the Brazilian gunboat, Fide Us, to write his report of the action, when a shell from the Paraguayan battery struck him dead before carrying on and sinking the ship. The commander of the battery was Major Bruguez, who had been one of Cabrita's star pupils in the days when the latter had been gunnery instructor to the Paraguayan army. Convinced that all this activity meant that the Allies had chosen the area around Itapiru for their invasion, Lopez began to fortify his position more strongly. He ordered a new trench to be built, stretching from the bank of the Parana, around his headquarters on the ridge, and down to the large swampy meadows below. This trench was 11 feet wide and six feet deep, complete with angles and redoubts and fortified by almost 4,000 men and 30 cannon. Both Thompson, who had designed the defenses, and Centurion were convinced that the Paraguayans occupied an extremely strong position. Lopez also built bridges along the roads connecting his headquarters to Itapiru and ensured that these could be easily defended. Furthermore, he placed cannon on the shoreline beneath the fort, where they could not be seen and where they could fire on enemy boats moving along or across the river. The Allies had had plenty of time to organize the invasion, but in the event they were not well prepared. From December, Corrientes had been chosen as the center of activity and designated the main supply depot of the allied armies. Eight floating docks had been built, which could be towed upstream to help with the embarkation of troops and equipment, as well as huge rafts that could carry several hundred soldiers and some 90 canoes to support the steamers and warships of the fleet. The armies still preferred to work separately and use their own equipment for transportation, with the Uruguayan army attaching itself to the Brazilians. By April, Osorio reckoned that he could transport 10,500 men, and 1,800 tons of equipment in one go, while the Argentines hoped to move 4,500 men and 60 tons. These figures were impressive, but the state of readiness of both soldiers and equipment was less so. The Brazilians, in particular, had been pouring men into

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the area, but many of them were completely untrained and unprepared for what was to come. Although winter was approaching, none of the armies had suitable uniforms, and the Uruguayans had nothing in which to carry baggage or possessions. They also found that the bullets and musket balls with which they had just been supplied were the wrong size for their weapons. Furthermore, there was a serious lack of coal, which would limit the Brazilian squadron, once in Paraguay, in its support of the army. Although Mitre had appointed an inspector to oversee supplies, there was still not enough meat for the Argentine army, and supplementary rations, such as flour, biscuits, rice, and salt, were only just beginning to appear. There was a shortage of horses and oxen, and, despite all the opportunity for building, there were not even enough carts. Even more worrying was the almost total ignorance of the terrain and defenses that lay across the river. Just a week before the invasion, a British mercenary serving with the Argentine army, Captain Fitzmaurice, offered to slip secretly across to Paraguay to do a detailed reconnaissance, and he tried to impress upon Mitre the disadvantage for the Allies if they had no knowledge of the topography. Mitre did not take him up on his offer. He preferred to rely on the somewhat dubious evidence of Paraguayan deserters, from whose reports he seems to have extracted only the information that he wanted to hear. On discovering that Lopez had executed a number of his military commanders, Mitre, with misplaced confidence, scribbled on a note to Osorio: "If half of this is correct, we can expect as comical a result as that at Uruguayana."15 In fact, the Allies had not yet made up their minds where they were going to invade, or even when. Porto Alegre was moving his troops toward a possible crossing point opposite Encarnacion to the east, but Tamandare was showing less inclination to support his cousin now that he understood more clearly the difficulties of navigating his large vessels along the shallow reaches of the High Parana. After several reconnaissances as far as Itati, the admiral was coming to the conclusion that nowhere along this stretch was particularly suitable for his navy to support a crossing, especially given the increased amount of Paraguayan artillery guarding the entrance to Paso de la Patria. He was therefore relieved, on 2 April, to receive a report from an officer in his navy that the best crossing point was on the River Paraguay a few miles north of Tres Bocas. This area had not been seriously considered by any of the commanders—strangely perhaps, since, although it would make the route taken by the boats and rafts slightly longer, it was apparently undefended and had a large open area suitable for the landing of troops and supplies. Not until 14 April did Mitre authorize Osorio to reconnoiter the area, and only two days later the crossing actually took place at this point. For such a huge undertaking, it seems incredible that the final details of the invasion were left so vague. Osorio was given instructions that the landing could be either partial or definitive, according to his reckoning, which seemed to mean whether it was opposed or not. Admittedly, any attempts to reconnoiter the chosen landing place more closely would have alerted the Paraguayans, and therefore the Allies felt that they had to rely on the last-minute judgment of their

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commander. The date of the invasion had to be postponed until the 16th, as the Brazilian engineers needed more time to finish building the quays and Tamandare wanted more canoes and chatas and complained that the river was too high. All the while, the troops who had been drawn up close to the embarkation point, with their emergency rations of biscuits and cooked meat, waited impatiently for the commanders to make up their minds. At 5 P.M. on the 15th, three Brazilian ships sailed up the River Paraguay and scouted for the best landing-place. At 11 P.M. the Brazilians under Osorio began embarking, without tents or knapsacks and with about 10,000 men squashed into the transport boats and canoes and onto the rafts. They would comprise the first wave. Flores, in charge of the second wave, prepared his 5,000 men for crossing later the following day. Despite the often haphazard nature of the preparations, the eventual crossing of the River Paraguay was something of a triumph, and Tamandare's boast that he could get an army of 15,000 men safely across the river in one day turned out to be almost completely accurate. The squadron set sail on the morning of the 16th toward Itapiru, firing strongly on the Paraguayan positions, and then, hidden by the smoke from its guns, the transports abruptly altered course and headed downstream toward Tres Bocas before moving up the River Paraguay. Osorio, typically, was the first to set foot on Paraguayan soil, and throughout the rest of the day the remainder of his army and its supplies were landed safely. Flores and the second wave were ready to depart at 2 P.M., but a sudden torrential hailstorm delayed their crossing, and it was not until four hours later that they arrived at the landing place. Where Osorio had landed, there was an area of firm ground, but behind it lay swamps and thick bush. As soon as he had disembarked, the general took a small escort of 12 men and began scouting through the bahados. There he came upon about 20 Paraguayans, who opened fire on him and were quickly joined by others. The escort took up skirmishing positions, and, due to the slowness of the Brazilian troops in disembarking, for a time the 13 men were isolated and had to hold up the enemy detachment on their own. Gradually, companies of volunteers moved forward to join in the firefight, but the arrival of Colonel Benftez and more Paraguayan reinforcements made the situation more critical. If the sight of a Brazilian general at the head of just 12 men, crouched down in the muddy water of a swamp somewhere in enemy territory, was an incongruous one, Osorio himself did not seem particularly perturbed. He ordered a bayonet charge, which forced the Paraguayans back, though they took up new positions and resumed firing. As more Brazilian soldiers landed and came up to help, the advantage turned in their favor, and the Paraguayans soon took to their heels. Osorio ordered them to be pursued, but at 2 P.M. the chase was halted by the same cloudburst that prevented Flores from departing on time. It had been little more than a skirmish, with only three Brazilians dead, although the Paraguayans had lost more than 40. It had had a major significance, however, for Osorio's resolve had enabled the disembarkation to be carried out

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successfully, and he now had a secure perimeter to protect the invading army. The Brazilian war minister was horrified when he heard of his commander's exploits and urged him not to risk his life in future. Osorio's laconic reply—"I was in charge of an army of inexperienced soldiers and I felt I had to set an example"16—must have impressed the emperor, for he named him Baron de Herval in recognition. Extraordinarily, the landing was otherwise unopposed, and by nightfall, when torrential rain set in and made fighting virtually impossible, allied troops were firmly in place. It was a year and two days since the Paraguayans themselves had invaded Argentina and raised their own flag on foreign soil in Corrientes.

13 Conflict in the Esteros: April to May 1866

For many of the Brazilian soldiers, huddled up into whatever shelter they could find, that first night on Paraguayan soil was dreadful. The rain fell remorselessly, soaking everyone and making sleep impossible. Not only were they made miserable by the wetting, but they were also kept awake by the fear of what would happen in the morning. As the rain crashed down on the palm trees and the undergrowth rustled ominously, they could imagine the thousands of Paraguayans lying in wait, ready to attack. Palleja and his men were in a slightly better situation, for after trying to find a camping place on land—unsuccessfully, since most of the ground was swampy—they decided to remain on board the boats. He, too, expected an attack from Lopez, assuming that this was the Paraguayan dictator's last chance of preventing the successful invasion of his country. The next morning, as Osorio led his men toward Itapiru, a Paraguayan detachment under Benitez, consisting of three infantry battalions and two cavalry regiments, lay in wait along the narrow road. It was not the best place to choose for a battle, as neither side had much opportunity to maneuver, but, by sending part of his force to attack the Paraguayans from the side, Osorio managed to cause sufficient confusion for him to carry the day. Much of the fighting was done with bayonets, and each side lost several hundred dead and wounded. One of the Brazilian commanders who helped achieve a successful outcome was Major Deodoro da Fonseca, who was later more famous for his overthrow of Pedro II. Crucial to the victory was the Brazilian artillery of Lieutenant Colonel Mallet, who was able to put his guns on the high ground that dominated the battlefield and shell the Paraguayan column, as well as the supporting fire from the squadron, which managed to prevent the Paraguayans from bringing up reinforcements. Osorio decided not to push on, since his men were exhausted

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after the battle and two sleepless nights; instead, he waited and covered the disembarkation of the second wave of troops. Itapiru, with its small garrison and few guns, which were only really useful for dominating the river, could clearly not be defended, and Lopez ordered its garrison to evacuate and return to Paso de la Patria. The cannon were buried in the sand, as far as was possible, and the men fell back under shellfire from the Brazilian squadron. On the 18th, the advancing Allies entered the fort, to the cheers of those watching from the sandbank, and while some officers amused themselves by playing bowls with the huge number of cannonballs that littered the ground, the generals began preparing for the attack on the main Paraguayan camp. Although only a short distance away, the terrain in front of the Paraguayan trenches was treacherous. Most of the ground was swampy, and at times soldiers had to wade through water up to their chests, holding their muskets above their heads. The bridges that Lopez had built across the marshes were destroyed by the retreating Paraguayans, and from time to time Diaz's rearguard opened fire on the Brazilian column, slowing them down. On the night of the 19th, while marching nervously along the track in complete darkness, the Brazilians heard shots to their left and, believing themselves to be under attack, returned fire. Panic ensued, and before senior officers could move up and assess the situation and realize that the Brazilians were engaged in a firefight with their own outriders, dozens of men had already been killed. Along the way, they came across the corpses of Paraguayans, and were astonished at their condition. Many seemed little older than 15 or 16, and most were gaunt and emaciated and almost completely devoid of uniform, many even without proper trousers. In fact, the allied soldiers felt themselves scarcely better off, for most of them had only eaten once in the previous five days and few had had any sleep, due to the tension and the night marches. By the 20th, Palleja was with the forward units of the allied army behind the river that separated them from the Paraguayan trenches. He could clearly see the enemy reinforcing their positions, yet he could not comprehend how he was going to cross, since the rain was causing the river to rise and flood the surrounding land. Paso de la Patria seemed impregnable, surrounded as it was by lagoons and rivers and swamps and approachable only along narrow roads that were guarded by artillery. The following morning the Paraguayan guns opened fire on the Allies across the river, and although they caused little damage, it suggested that the defenders were not going to give up without a fight. Yet, extraordinarily, the Paraguayans proceeded to do just that. Apparently terrified by the presence of the squadron, which had at last plucked up nerve to sail up the channel between Isla Caraya and the shore, within easy range of his headquarters, Lopez decided that his position was too vulnerable, and, v/ithout informing anyone of his intentions, he simply rode out of the camp on the morning of the 20th, toward the north. He took with him neither his aides nor even his mistress, and some time was spent trying to locate him. Eventually,

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instructions came back to Resquin that the army should evacuate its position, and burn the camp. This he did, under fire from the squadron, and many of the Paraguayan soldiers took delight in looting the stores, including Lopez's personal possessions. Lopez had ridden to a small hill about three miles north of the camp, and at midday Madam Lynch and Bishop Palacios managed to catch up with him. Although none of his army had eaten, he proceeded to enjoy two good meals, while his forces left in confusion from their well-prepared positions. Back at headquarters, the telegraph operator, who had chosen to remain at his post and not join in the uncontrolled retreat, had a lucky escape when a shell from the squadron scored a direct hit on his shack, burying him with earth but leaving him otherwise unscathed. The women camp followers darted around, laughing at the shells that rained down on them and shouting insults at the distant fleet, but by the evening of the 23rd Paso de la Patria was burning and scarcely a Paraguayan was to be seen. That day, Brazilian engineers had succeeded in constructing a floating wooden bridge that enabled the river, which was some 150 yards wide, to be crossed. When the advance columns entered the Paraguayan camp, they found evidence of the panic withdrawal. Stores littered the ground, and equipment lay where it had been abandoned. The steamer Gualeguay, which could not be sailed to Humaita now that the Allies controlled that part of the river, had been scuttled. The shacks were burning, but in Lopez's bungalow the flowers that decorated the verandah still sat in their baskets. Lopez's decision to abandon Paso de la Patria has been heavily criticized. Palleja reckoned that if the Paraguayans had resisted, the Allies would have experienced considerable difficulties and heavy losses in trying to cross the river to attack. There was little alternative to a direct assault, which would have caused higher casualties than the 52 dead and 277 wounded that they had so far recorded. Centurion and Thompson attributed the decision simply to the personal cowardice of their commander, who, on realizing that he personally was in range of the allied fleet, panicked and fled. While this may have been true, Lopez had never worried about ordering his troops to stand and face the dangers, so it appears that his withdrawal may have had a serious tactical purpose. The major weakness of his position was that it was within range of the heavy guns of the squadron and was particularly vulnerable on its right wing, where the Allies had placed artillery, and he was probably correct in guessing that this would have made their victory inevitable, with severe losses to his own side. He chose his next position with care, making the most of the terrain, which in this region strongly favored a defensive campaign. Midway between Paso de la Patria and the main Paraguayan fortress at Humaita, the land was low and swampy and dominated by the stream known as the Estero Bellaco, which flowed from east to west. As it neared the River Paraguay and bisected the direct route that the Allies were virtually obliged to take, the stream divided into two channels, separated by a palm forest. These channels were in an almost continu-

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ous state of flood, and the land, which was punctuated by large areas of dense vegetation and islands of palm trees, was often under several feet of water. The bottom of these marshes was generally mud, and here the men could only cross with extreme difficulty, and horses barely at all, but in places there was sand, and these served as crossing points known as pasos. The water was often clear and drinkable, but when it began to dry out, it became fetid and unhealthy. Around some of the marshes grew thick reeds, some as much as nine feet high, and in these places the swamps were impassable. Marsh birds and animals frequented this region, and in the evenings the hammering chorus of the blacksmith frogs sometimes drowned out even the noise of gunfire. Lopez withdrew his army beyond the northern channel of the Estero Bellaco, leaving a force just north of its southern branch to hold up the allied advance. For his part, Mitre sent Flores and the vanguard about a mile north of Paso de la Patria onto the heights that overlooked the southern channel, while the main army remained in the old Paraguayan camp. Yet the Uruguayans, who still comprised the majority of the vanguard, were in a poor state. Their baggage had been pilfered during the crossing, and there was very little food available, obliging them yet again to beg from the other armies. Now Mitre was beginning to see the problems caused by invading before sufficient horses had arrived for the cavalry and while there were not enough pack animals to move the artillery. There was also insufficient pasture for the few horses that he did have and, to compound his woes, tetanus had broken out among the ranks. Nor was Lopez prepared to let the Allies rest on their laurels; as early as the 25th, he began to attack the vanguard. On this occasion a small outpost was suddenly surrounded by over a hundred Paraguayans, and the guards were forced to take to their heels. Flores responded with a more aggressive policy of daily patrols to ensure that the Paraguayans did not build up forces in the area that separated the two armies, and on the 26th and 29th his men engaged the enemy in skirmishes. Mitre reckoned that there might be as many as 3,000 enemy soldiers hidden among the swamps, and he strengthened the vanguard with two extra battalions and artillery. Flores should, therefore, have been in a high state of alert. At midday on 2 May, Palleja was sitting at the opening of his tent, writing up his journal, and wishing that he had some news of military success to impart to his readers, when suddenly thousands of Paraguayans swarmed into the camp. Lopez had ordered Diaz to launch an attack with 4,000 cavalry and infantry, together with six guns, and the Paraguayans had made use of the passes through the esteros, which were unguarded, to come upon the vanguard by surprise and quickly overrun the forward lines. Palleja leapt into action and managed to mobilize his Florida battalion and move them down to support the Brazilian unit that was bearing the brunt of the attack. He initially received no help from the other allied forces and was unable to stop the four Uruguayan guns being captured by the attackers, who then started to move them back toward their own positions.

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Supported by the artillery of Major Bruguez, Diaz pressed home his assault on the allied vanguard. The Brazilians attempted to defend themselves by forming squares, but they were unable to resist the fierce charges by Paraguayan cavalry. Under Colonel Benitez, they now attacked the right wing of the Argentine forces, who had no outposts and so were also taken completely by surprise; fighting ensued with lance and sword before the Argentines were obliged to retreat. Flores was nearly taken prisoner during this first part of the battle. If Diaz had let matters stand and had returned with the captured Uruguayan guns alone, he could have claimed a small but significant victory; but instead of retiring, he decided to wait and take on the rest of the allied armies, which now moved up swiftly in support of the beleaguered vanguard. Mitre, who was on a Brazilian boat when the attack began, rushed back to assume command and ordered both wings of the allied army to encircle the attackers. Outnumbered, the Paraguayans were now obliged to make an abrupt withdrawal themselves. The Argentines made efforts to cut off the Sidra and Pins passes to prevent them from reaching their own lines, and in these places bloody fights developed. The Paraguayans were helped by covering fire from their own artillery but still sustained heavy losses. The Argentines now pushed forward, and Bruguez had to move his guns to a small hill from which he could dominate the area, thus enabling Diaz to launch a counterattack and beat off the Argentine battalions. The latter then brought up their own guns, which gave their infantry an opportunity to attack again along the Sidra track, until Diaz, ordering a bayonet charge, eventually routed the attackers and managed to complete his withdrawal. By 6 P.M. the battle was over. The attack had been a complete surprise. Not only had the vanguard been caught napping, but senior commanders were also unprepared, and it seemed possible that if Lopez had committed greater numbers, he might even have pushed the invaders back as far as the river. In fact, Lopez had not intended a full-scale assault at all, but more of an armed reconnaissance. Diaz's instructions had been to test the strength of the vanguard and to take prisoners—even guns, if possible—but with his relatively small numbers he was not required to take on the entire allied army. Once again Lopez had been let down by the lack of discipline, and military sense, of a senior commander, and a potential victory had been turned into a defeat. The Paraguayans had lost as many as 2,000 dead and wounded, including Colonel Benitez, while the Allies had 1.500 casualties. From now on, the latter would be far better prepared; opportunities for surprise victories would be fewer, and, as for the Paraguayans, they would have fewer crack troops with which to inflict serious damage on their enemy. In his usual way, Lopez put a brave face on things and ordered that El Semanario should present the Battle of Estero Bellaco as a great Paraguayan victory. In a state of high excitement. Palleja retired to complete his diary. At one stage in the battle, his Florida battalion had been virtually alone in holding up the Paraguayan advance and had consequently suffered significant losses. Over 30 officers and 350 men of his own command had been put out of action, but most

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seriously for him, his son had been wounded in the initial charge against the enemy. He ensured that Oscar was placed on the first boat back to Montevideo, along with the other wounded, and thereafter he agonized over the lack of news about his condition. Mitre was highly critical of Flores for allowing the vanguard to be taken by surprise. The Uruguayan commander was an inspirational leader of his men, but his occasional lack of military discipline was a nagging worry to his chief. Flores was mortified to be reprimanded for his poor showing at Estero Bellaco and even for his refusal to wear correct military uniform. The unexpectedness of the attack and the violence of the action, which for many of the allied soldiers was their first experience of a real battle, put them all on edge, and Osorio even took to sleeping alongside the vanguard to bolster their morale. The Paraguayans seemed to be aware of their apprehension, and in the ensuing months firefights were common at all hours of the day and night as they sought to build upon the unease and nervousness of their enemies. For most of the allied soldiers there was no discernible improvement in conditions now that they had reached Paraguay. Rations were still haphazard, and the meat would often arrive covered in sand, evidently having been dropped on the way from the river. There was little fodder for the animals, and the mules were incapable of dragging guns, so the use of artillery was limited. However, gradually things were becoming more organized. The development of Corrientes as a base and of Paso de la Patria as a forward depot meant that supplies began to arrive on a more regular basis, and Urquiza atoned in some part for his previous inadequacies by supplying hundreds of fresh horses. The health of the armies, however, remained poor. Outbreaks of typhus and chucho—a type of fever— coursed through the allied ranks. Some of this was attributed to the fact that the armies were now occupying the old Paraguayan camp, where unhealthy conditions were endemic, but it was inevitable that large numbers of men in a relatively small place over a long length of time were going to provoke disease. There was quinine, but supplies often ran out. The Paraguayan cure for chucho was to wade naked into the waters of the estero and shiver the disease out of the body, but the Uruguayans were unwilling to try this. Palleja warned that the war might develop into a new Crimea, with disease causing most of the casualties, if the campaign was not moved on quickly. There were skirmishes and firefights along the front on an almost daily basis, but this mainly affected the vanguard, and for a fortnight there was nothing on the scale of the battle of 2 May. Yet there were constant rumors, fed by Paraguayan deserters, that Lopez was planning another attack, and this kept the Allies in a state of tension. Such was the extent of the activity that when, on 10 May, there was a whole day and night without any firing from the Paraguayan positions, Palleja became nervous and assumed that an attack was imminent. On 20 May, there was movement in the allied lines. It had been decided to advance the front toward the trenches currently occupied by the Paraguayan vanguard, across the southern arm of the estero, which would give the Allies more security and a better view of the enemy positions. Palleja awoke at 2 A.M.

Battle of Estero Bellaco, 2 May 1866

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to prepare his men, and at dawn they assaulted the trenches at Paso Sidra. They were met with a hail of bullets, together with cannon and rocket fire, but they managed to take the trench and pushed on until they dominated the ridge behind. They brought up artillery in support, and shortly after dawn they were in control of their new positions. The action had lasted barely ten minutes and had been accomplished without a single allied casualty. In fact, Lopez had never been particularly happy with the exposed positions of his vanguard and had issued orders that they were to withdraw immediately on being attacked. By the end of the day both sides felt stronger, though Lopez perhaps considered that the Allies were a little too close for comfort, for he moved his headquarters back to the greater safety of Paso Pucu. Mitre had expected more determined resistance from the Paraguayans and so had tried to persuade Tamandare to use the squadron in support of the advance. The admiral had already made reconnaissances into Laguna Piris, to see if it could be used to help the army by enabling him to land supplies and shell the Paraguayan trenches. Some of his boats had indeed been able to navigate in the lagoon, but they had been frightened off by the appearance of enemy soldiers. On the 20th he did send ships up to Curupaity with the intention of bombarding it, but he was fired on by the Paraguayan artillery and so sailed back down again to his position just north of Cerrito. He had noticed that the channel was blocked by ships laden with stones that had been sunk by Lopez and by a thick chain that was strung across the whole width of the river. The two armies now faced each other on either side of the northern arm of the Estero Bellaco. Their trenches stretched from Potrero Piris and Sauce in the west to the marshes around Yataity-Cora in the east. At their closest point the two vanguards might be separated by less than 100 yards, though the two headquarters occupied parallel ridges some 3 miles apart. For both sides, however, these quarters would have to be considered temporary, for. if the war was to be won, the Allies knew they had to expel Lopez from his.

14 The Battle of Tuyuty: May 1866

Shortly before noon, on the day of the greatest battle in South American history. Ensign Dionisio Cerqueira of the 16th Battalion of Brazilian Volunteers was leaning against a tree in the dense bush that bordered Potrero Piris while his men collected firewood. Behind him the allied army was stood to, in preparation for the armed reconnaissance that was to take place later that day. Yet Cerqueira was nervous. He had only recently been promoted to officer rank, and he was anxious to prove himself to his men. A sergeant had approached him the previous evening with orders to gather a party to do the daily firewood collection, and now he was waiting while his men rummaged through the undergrowth in search of dry kindling. His position was one of some danger. The bush lay in front and slightly to the left of the allied positions, a few hundred yards from the forward trenches. This was the area out of which the Paraguayans had erupted on 2 May, and in several skirmishes since. The wood led straight to the Paraguayan lines, and they had made it an entertainment to sneak up on lone Brazilian foragers to either kill or capture them. The men were clearly afraid. Cerqueira straightened as one of his soldiers ran up. saluted, and reported with great agitation that the bush was "scarlet with Paraguayans."1 In some trepidation, he followed the soldier deeper into the wood and saw, to his horror, that the ground was littered with red shapes, and that behind every tree more Paraguayans seemed to be lurking. There was total silence. None of the thousands of Paraguayan soldiers made a move. It seemed inconceivable that his men had not been spotted, but the Paraguayans ignored them. There could only be one explanation: the enemy was about to launch a major attack.

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With commendable sangfroid, Cerqueira rounded up his terrified men, several still laden with bundles of firewood, and marched them in good order back to the allied lines. He had barely time to stammer out his report when a shell exploded overhead, and then all hell broke loose. *** The genesis for the battle had been Lopez's understandable belief that the Allies, once grouped at Tuyuty, would carry forward their campaign by attacking his positions. He had therefore considered a plan by which he would exploit this by launching a simultaneous counterassault that would go around the enemy flanks to take on their reserve, and then close in on the main attacking body, which would be squeezed against the well-fortified Paraguayan positions. In theory the plan seemed a good one, as it would use the Paraguayan advantages of their defensive position and surprise and would reduce the imbalance in the relative size of the armies, since the Allies would be stretched and split during their own assault. A special track had been carved through the bush to Sauce and Potrero Piris to enable the right-flanking Paraguayan cavalry to make swift progress, and Lopez had been informed by allied prisoners that an attack was due on 25 May, thus giving him the advantage of terrain and foreknowledge of timing. Yet on 20 May he abandoned the plan, much to the disgust of Centurion, who considered the decision to be "capricious."2 In the event, Lopez was probably right. The track leading to Potrero Piris subsequently turned out to be completely unsuitable, and it certainly would not have enabled a speedy encircling movement during the allied assault, More importantly, the Allies were not intending to attack on the 25th in any case, and since Lopez had no reliable means of knowing when they were, the Paraguayan anny would have had to remain in a state of readiness and exhausting tension for perhaps weeks or months, while the Allies had the complete initiative in terms of when to fight. The amended plan was significantly different, inasmuch as now Lopez was intending to attack the Allies. The initiative would therefore be with him, though the location would now favor his opponents, as would numerical advantage. Surprise would still be a key element, and the Allies had to assume that Lopez would not dare to venture in force from his well-defended positions. Lopez decided on the 24th as the date for the operation. He may have reasoned that the Allies would be so focused on their own expedition that they would not be expecting to contain a Paraguayan assault, but he seemed to ignore the fact that if the Allies were going to attack on the 25th, then presumably they would be in a state of considerable readiness on the previous day. On the afternoon of the 23rd, Lopez rode through the Paraguayan lines, giving speeches, chatting to the soldiers, and instilling into them how easy the victory would be. The soldiers replied with cheers and vivas that could be heard from the allied forward positions. That evening he called together his generals, and until 3 A.M. he went over his final instructions for the battle again and again, so that they would be absolutely

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understood. The attack would be three-pronged. Barrios, with 4,000 infantry and 1,000 cavalry, would advance along the narrow track to Potrero Piris, cut through the remaining few hundred yards of bush that had been left to disguise the path from the Allies, and then squeeze between the lagoon and the allied left wing in order to attack the rear. At the same time Resquin, with 4,000 cavalry and 1,000 infantry, would advance from Yataity-Cora on the allied right, bypass the Argentine defenders, and go straight for the rear, arriving at roughly the same time as Barrios. Together they would scatter the reserve and then charge into the allied positions from behind. In the meantime, Diaz, with the bulk of the infantry— about 8,000 men—would attack the allied center, including the two redoubts. The scale of the action showed that it was intended to be decisive. This was not, like many of the Paraguayan attacks, meant as an irritant or to scare the Allies or to weaken their morale. It was supposed to deliver such a defeat to the allied armies that they would be pushed out of Paraguay completely, with the result that they would abandon all attempts to prosecute the war further. Lopez was committing the bulk of his army, including his best soldiers, to an all-ornothing venture that would seal his reputation as a general and as the defender of his fatherland—or so he supposed. There was little hope of surprise, however. Tired as he was, since he had not slept a wink for four nights, Colonel Palleja was kept awake by the rumbling and squeaking of Paraguayan oxcarts as they trundled with supplies and equipment up to the front line throughout that night. The birds of the esteros added to the din with their continuous shrieking, indicating that there was plenty of activity in no-man's-land. Dawn revealed a bustling and movement in the Paraguayan lines, with knots of armed cavalry riding hither and thither before disappearing into the bush, followed by an unnatural calm. In fact, far from lulling the Allies into a false sense of security, the Paraguayans had been keeping them fully alert. Almost every night throughout May there had been exchanges of rifle and artillery fire along the lines, some lasting until morning. As well as the surprise attack at Estero Bellaco on 2 May, the Paraguayans had launched several small-scale assaults on different parts of the line, whose object was unclear but whose result was to lead the Allies to expect attacks at any moment. Furthermore, the advance of the allied vanguard on 20 May meant that not only were they not yet relaxed in their new positions, but movement along the line was still fluid. Reconnaissances had been undertaken on 22 and 23 May and parapets built around the main gun emplacements. More troops were brought up to the line, giving the Allies a strength of 34,700 men and 93 guns. For his moment of attack, Lopez had probably chosen one when the Allies were best prepared for it. Further misfortune for the Paraguayans was that the Allies had not intended to attack on the 25th in any case, but they had planned an armed reconnaissance of the Paraguayan positions for the 24th. Hence, at the moment when the Paraguayans launched their "surprise" attack, their enemies were not only in a state of high alert but were armed and ready for their own expedition.

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Lopez might have avoided further unpleasant surprises of his own if he had taken the trouble to find out more clearly the exact positions that the Allies occupied. His intelligence was poor and relied mainly on captured allied prisoners, as well as those few Paraguayans, pressed into the allied forces, who were still dribbling back to Paraguayan lines. These people knew little of the overall picture, and their evidence was unreliable. The concept of reconnaissance patrols was not one that was understood by either army, and so Lopez had to base his plan on what he heard and what little he could see. Furthermore, it did not do to tell him what he did not wish to hear. Dr. Torrens, an old friend of Centurion, was unwise enough to remark to his comrades that the Argentines seemed particularly well drawn up and equipped for battle. Rather than being listened to, Torrens was denounced to Lopez and executed for weakening the morale of his unit. The morning of the 24th was a gorgeous one. Centurion, watching from on top of the ridge at the headquarters at Paso Gomez, noted the clear blue sky with thin wisps of cloud and a gentle heat. There was an unusual stillness about the Paraguayan camp now the soldiers had left, and he feared that this might warn the Allies of the coming attack. Shortly after midday, from his elevated position, he could see the beginnings of the battle, until his view was obscured by the smoke from the allied guns. From time to time the smoke lifted, revealing the lines of Paraguayan soldiers moving forward, until they were hidden again. The sound of the allied gunfire was deafening. Lopez, too, was up early, and after breakfast he watched the allied lines through his telescope from the Paso Pucii cemetery. When the firing started, he intimated that he would go down to the trench line to join the reserve troops, but Bishop Palacios, ever-tactful, suggested that he should not risk his life, and so instead he turned his horse and headed for the woods near Rojas, some five miles behind the battle lines, where he remained for most of the day. Down below, in the fetid swamplands of the esteros. the scene was less idyllic. The shell burst, described by Cerqueira. had followed a Congreve rocket fired by Barrios on the left side of the allied lines as a signal that he had arrived and that the attack should begin. Barrios had had considerable difficulty in moving his army along the narrow path that led toward Potrero Piris. and he had arrived at his position at least two hours late. He could, therefore, assume that the other two prongs were already in position. They were. As the rocket burst, thousands of Paraguayans, seminude, brandishing sabers and lances and yelling bloodcurdling cries, launched themselves from the bush that ran the length of the front and charged the waiting soldiers. On the left of the allied lines, Cerqueira had just finished giving his report, and he now had to rush back to rejoin his battalion. The buglers were calling the men to action, and the Brazilian companies were forming themselves into squares to resist the charge of the Paraguayan cavalry. The position of the bahado meant that the Paraguayan attack was on a narrow front, and so only two companies could be deployed to oppose them. These were rapidly pushed back, but the

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terrain now turned to the Brazilians' advantage as Diaz's infantry units found themselves being fired on from the side by several battalions. Some were forced to advance through the bahado, where they waded, chest-deep, providing easy targets for the Brazilian infantry, so that soon the water became clogged with corpses. They could not get by, and several Brazilians broke ranks in order to rush forward and bayonet them. The Paraguayans retreated with heavy casualties. The Brazilians, however, were now horrified to see large numbers of Barrios's men emerge from Potrero Piris to their left and attack their 3rd Division. General Sampaio ordered his men to advance to meet them and succeeded in pushing the Paraguayans back to the bush, but reinforcements now arrived, and this time the Brazilians themselves were forced back some considerable distance. However, as soon as they reached firm ground, the 6th Battalion of Brazilian Volunteers halted, and their buglers sounded the advance. The tables were turned, as the Brazilians first marched and then charged toward the advancing Paraguayans, and the two lines clashed in heavy fighting. Cheers erupted from the watching Brazilian 4th Battalion. This force was now brought into the battle, but, just as the tide seemed to be turning in favor of the Brazilians, yet more Paraguayan cavalry came charging from the bush and drove into their battered lines. General Sampaio was fatally wounded at this moment. Hand-to-hand fighting now became the order of the day. and, with rifles useless, it was sabers and bayonets to the fore. Three times the Paraguayans managed to push the Brazilians back, but each time they were, in turn, repelled. Their aim of getting around the Brazilian flank had been well and truly defeated, and Barrios's men were now engaged in a futile struggle against superior forces that was definitely not part of Lopez's plan. Over on the allied right. Captain Francisco Seeber of the 1st Battalion of the Argentine infantry was drawn up with his men at the foot of a grassy slope. In front he could look down to the Estero Bellaco. and the scattered mounds of palm trees in the center, and in the distance he could see the Paraguayan lookout towers. Immediately before him was the battery of Argentine artillery. Abruptly, hordes of Paraguayan cavalry under Resquin emerged from the trees and fell on the guns. These had no time to fire before they were overrun, and the Paraguayans began cutting up the gunners with sabers and lances. Stunned, the infantry remained immobile, even though they could hear the frantic cries of their comrades, pleading for help. Yet no one gave an order to assist them. Finally, unable to bear it any longer, a Corporal Gonzalez left the Argentine line and charged the enemy alone. Seeber. unsure of what to do, raced off to stop him. but at that moment Captain Garmendia seized the initiative and ordered his company to advance. The battalion commander. Colonel Coba. then moved his whole command up in support and managed to recapture the guns. Colonel Rivas now let his enthusiasm get the better of him. and he moved his line of infantry forward to just in front of his own guns, into a position where he

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was blocking their view of the enemy. This coincided with the emergence of Resquin's infantry right in front of him, which forced the Argentines into a bloody fight without any artillery support. Realizing his error, Rivas withdrew, thereby allowing his guns to halt the enemy advance. Further to the right, four battalions of Paraguayan cavalry, attempting to bypass the Argentine lines and reach the rear, were met by the bulk of the Correntino cavalry. Instead of avoiding them and riding by, as their orders demanded, the Paraguayans turned to take them on. A fierce battle ensued, in which the Correntinos were repulsed. Reserves of Argentine infantry now piled in to block the route, and slowly they pushed back the enemy cavalry and, despite further charges by Paraguayan reinforcements, successfully defended their part of the line. The Argentine guns, either through error or deliberate policy, kept firing throughout the battle, even though the two armies were so mixed up that they were probably killing as many of their own side as the enemy. The Paraguayan guns, however, remained silent, since from their position it was not possible to distinguish friend from foe in the confusion. Only one squadron of Resquin's cavalry actually managed to attain the objective of reaching the allied rear. In a desperate maneuver, Captain Olabarrieta fought his way around the Argentine right, but on finding that Barrios had not managed to bypass the Brazilians on his side, he decided to press forward with his charge and succeeded, fighting all the way, in going completely around the allied armies and reaching Potrero Piris, wounded and with only a handful of men left. In the center, Colonel Palleja was quickly aware of the Paraguayan attack, since the rocket that signaled its beginning landed among the ranks of his battalion. It was immediately followed by a frontal assault from thousands of Paraguayan infantry. They advanced fearlessly, and, according to one witness, at least, they were singing their national anthem, but this was soon drowned out by a terrific cannonade from the allied guns. The Uruguayan vanguard fell back. However, unfortunately for Diaz, he had been ordered to attack, on foot, the strongest point in the allied line, which was defended by well-protected artillery. The carnage here was immense. Mainly firing canister shot, the allied gunners simply massacred the advancing Paraguayans. Palleja saw, through the thick clouds of smoke, human limbs, clothes, and bits of uniform, as well as saddles and legs of horses, flying through the air. Diaz, with his fellow commander, Marco, charged several times, helped by cavalry, but there was no answer to the allied guns. So confident was he of the outcome that Flores ordered Palleja to leave his position in the center and go to the left to help the Brazilians, who were being pushed back at that moment by superior Paraguayan forces. By the time he returned, he found that the battle was almost over, and he was instructed to make a charge to push the enemy back into the estero. The Paraguayans held out for some time in the bush and in the clearings where they lay behind the cover of clumps of tall grass, but by about 3.30 P.M. the battle was effectively over.

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Diaz, too, had been obliged to leave his position in the center and move over to help Barrios's force, which was being hard-pressed by allied reserves. He apparently ordered the Paraguayan band to play and the surviving troops to shout vivas, to convince the Allies that they had superior numbers and that it would not be worth while pursuing them. At any rate the allied soldiers were exhausted and had no particular desire to continue the battle, and the Paraguayans were able to retreat, unharassed. When the cornets blew the cease-fire along the length of the Allied lines at about 4 P.M., Palleja was still engaged in a firefight deep in the bush with the Paraguayan front lines. He returned to a scene of devastation. The battlefield was, in his words, "repugnant with mutilated corpses and disemboweled horses."3 In the 200 yards that lay in front of the allied guns, the horror was at its worst. Segments of human beings lay all around, mingled with those of animals, so that it was impossible to identify individuals or to avoid treading on body parts. On the left, Cerqueira was with a group of skirmishers in an orange grove to the front of the allied lines. His shirt had been torn by a musket ball, which had grazed his right shoulder. He had lost his boots somewhere in the swamps, and his sword was broken in two. As he trudged back to his lines, he saw the body of a childhood friend and knelt down and kissed him. Nearby he found a discarded officer's sword, covered with blood, which he swapped for his own. The thick smoke that had covered the battlefield for most of the afternoon slowly dispersed as evening closed in. In the Paraguayan lines, things were even more gloomy. Lopez had not been able to see the unfolding of the battle from his position well in the rear, and the first inkling he had that things were not going to plan were the streams of wounded shuffling along the track as he, along with Wisner and Palacios, rode down toward his headquarters. He paused to talk to them, and with his habitual confidence tried to raise their morale. One wounded boy stopped to give him some items of enemy equipment that he had collected from the battlefield, and Lopez promoted him to corporal. Wisner remarked that this had been the greatest battle ever in the history of South America, and Lopez seemed "visibly satisfied"4 with the comment. When he reached his headquarters at Paso Pucu, after the firing had stopped, he soon became aware that a major disaster had occurred. One by one, the defeated generals returned to make their reports. Resquin was the one to come in for most criticism, since he had failed to follow instructions to circle around the Argentine lines, and had, instead, needlessly attacked the artillery. Lopez called him a coward who had foolishly sacrificed the lives of his men and threatened to shoot him—something he would probably have done if it were not for the fact that his favorite, Barrios, had been similarly unsuccessful. Colonel Marco was also accused of cowardice for having retired from the battle after his hand had been shattered by a musket ball. Apart from that, Lopez surprised the onlookers by his calmness. Despite the defeat, he remained convinced that he would prevail. He ordered the captured standards to be hung from

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trees to taunt the Allies, and after dinner he dictated a report for El Semanario. which proclaimed the battle a great victory. He ordered the bands to play their favorite dance tunes throughout the night, which astonished the Allies, who could hear the music from their own lines. Perhaps at that moment Lopez had not fully appreciated the scale of the defeat. Casualty figures vary enormously, but there is no doubt that the flower of the Paraguayan army fell at Tuyuty. Even Paraguayan sources put the figure as high as 4,000 dead and 7,000 wounded. Although Lopez could, and did, swiftly bring up reinforcements and later put large armies into the field, there was no replacement for the caliber of the troops that he lost that day. Thereafter, the ranks would consist mainly of older men and younger boys, rather than those of prime fighting age. The Paraguayans had fought like lions—to the extent that the story ran around the allied armies that they had been fed brandy laced with gunpowder. Thompson denied this, although several allied observers remarked that the Paraguayan prisoners did seem drunk. Repeated charges had been made against superior allied positions, and, although Cerqueira saw some Paraguayan officers hitting their men with swords to make them advance, the huge scale of their casualties was indicative enough of their courage. Stories of individual bravery vary inconclusively between myth and reality. Jose Martinez, 18 years old, who had been promoted to lieutenant after the action on the Itapiru sandbank and to captain after the battle of Estero Bellaco, was recovering from wounds and begged to be allowed to fight at Tuyuty. During the charge a cannon ball severed his right arm and part of the shoulder, but he stood firm until Diaz forced him to retire. Lopez promoted him to major just before he died. An unnamed sergeant, the standard-bearer of an infantry battalion, although gravely wounded and surrounded by his enemies, refused to give up the flag and spent the remaining moments of his life tearing it to pieces with his teeth and attempting to swallow the shreds. The Allies, for their part, had lost just under 4,000 dead and wounded, of whom Brazilian casualties accounted for some 3,000. In this battle, the Brazilians had answered the critics who had doubted their ability to stand and fight. They had shown exemplary courage and resolve and their firmness against Barrios's infantry had been a decisive factor. Particularly impressive had been the behavior of their commanders, who had involved themselves in the thick of the fighting. General Osorio, already a legendary figure, had appeared everywhere on the left flank, goading and encouraging his men, and General Sampaio paid for his bravery with his life. Nor had the other two commanders. Mitre and Flores. been any less actively involved, for, much to the alarm of their subordinates, they had chosen to inspire their men from the front, and their presence, and overall control, had been a major contribution to the victory. Lopez did not seem to go in for lengthy soul-searching on why his plans did not succeed, but it has been assumed by others that since he lost the battle, his tactics must therefore have been flawed. He has been particularlv criticized, even

Battle of Tuvutv, 24 Mav 1866

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by his own side, for having left good defensive positions in order to attack the well-dug-in Allies on their own ground, with inferior forces. At first glance these objections seem valid, but it is worthwhile examining the extent to which he really did have alternative options. For time was not on his side. Despite his statement that the alliance would not hold together and that Brazil would have to retire when its money ran out, it did not seem that this would happen in the near future. The Allies were building up their forces on Paraguayan soil at an alarming rate, and the more he waited, the more the disparity in numbers would spell his eventual defeat. Furthermore, he knew that it was only a matter of time before the Brazilian fleet broke through his defenses at Curupaity, which was then only lightly garrisoned, and attacked his positions from behind. On top of this, the allied blockade was causing him huge difficulties, and shortages of food and clothing were beginning to tell. Yet his plan was less defensible, for it failed to take into account details of the terrain and the exact positions of the allied armies. Barrios, for example, was given an almost impossible job. Already exhausted by the difficulties experienced in reaching the start line, he then found that he had to fight his way through a narrow gap, which was strongly defended by Brazilian soldiers. Lopez should have made a proper reconnaissance to establish that there was no way through on this side. Seeber reckoned that if Lopez had committed most of his forces to attacking the right of the allied lines, which was less well defended, he could probably have won the battle. Furthermore, his instructions for the center to launch attacks against strongly entrenched artillery were disastrous. It could also be said that he did not commit enough men to the attack, so that the Paraguayans were outnumbered possibly by as much as three to one. In fact, many allied units were not even used in the battle but simply watched from the rear. Perhaps Lopez feared a counterattack, but either way it went against military sense to choose to attack a stronger force that was well emplaced. He was also ill served by his commanders. Resquin failed to follow orders, which caused the whole plan to collapse, while Diaz committed his men in the center to pointless charges against the allied artillery instead of either deploying them in skirmishing formation or withdrawing them into the greater safety of the woods, where they could still keep the gunners occupied. However, the battle had been only a numerical victory for the Allies, for there was no advance by either side and the scale of the victory could only really be gauged by the number of dead. Flores and Palleja, ever headstrong, criticized Mitre for not following up and attacking the Paraguayan lines while they were reeling from the scale of the defeat. One allied officer quoted Marshal Marmont as saying that "generals who win battles are less rare than those who know how to take advantage of a victory."5 Certainly, the Argentine 2nd Corps of some 5,000 men had not been used in the battle, and it, together with other allied units, could hav? made an assault on the Paraguayan positions, which were defended by only about 5,000 tired and beaten soldiers. However, the Allies did not know that Lopez had committed the best part of his army to the battle, or that the

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Paraguayan trenches were not as well constructed as they had thought. What they did know was that the enemy artillery would make any attack unwise. Furthermore, the allied cavalry was almost useless, for during the battle some regiments had found mounts for only a quarter of their men. Yet the decision not to advance was a costly one, as within three days Lopez had brought in reinforcements and was able to harass the allied lines again. The days succeeding the battle were grim. Thousands of bodies began putrefying in the midday heat. Both sides attempted to bury their dead, though neither risked going far from their own positions. There was no formal truce, but at least both sides refrained from firing on the burial parties of their opponents. The few allied prisoners were either taken deeper into Paraguay, where they were held in grim captivity, with few surviving the war, or else they were obliged to shout out inducements from the Paraguayan lines to try to entice their comrades to desert. The Allies were amazed by the fanaticism of Paraguayan prisoners. One soldier begged Palleja to shoot him, but instead the colonel saved him and sent him back to the hospital. Seeber was astonished to see Paraguayans casually munching biscuits while their legs were being amputated. The field hospitals were full to overflowing, with the staff overworked and barely able to cope. In the forests and swamps in front of both lines, the dead rotted while the wounded made prodigious efforts to return. At night, the cries of the injured mingled with the squawking of scavenging birds as they went about their feasting. The penetrating cold of the South American winter must have killed many. Three days after the battle, engineers were sent up to the front lines to dig mass graves, but by then the smell was awful. The Paraguayan bodies were burnt, having to be mingled with firewood because it was found that they often failed to combust. Going around the battlefield a few weeks later, Cerqueira found that the allied bodies had rotted, but the Paraguayans, being so emaciated, had simply mummified. And then the wounded began to crawl in. Daily, survivors from both sides somehow made it back to allied lines. On the 30th, a Paraguayan crawled back with a shattered leg, having tried to bandage it with his own clothes. He had survived for six days with only a handful of dried mate to eat. The Brazilians who helped to bring him in were amazed at his resilience. Four days later another Paraguayan crawled in, having gone for ten days with only the contaminated water of the estero for sustenance; a day later another, who had lain within shouting distance of Paraguayan lines for days but had been ignored, managed to reach the allied positions. The Paraguayans, too, found survivors. Major Coronel, wounded in the lungs and exhausted, sat down next to another injured soldier and ordered the man to kill him. The soldier refused but waited patiently by the officer until four days later they were found in the same position by a Paraguayan patrol. Coronel recovered and was fit enough to be killed at Sauce three weeks later. Some Paraguayans, who had been captured at Uruguayana and forced into the allied armies, took the opportunity to return to their own side, where they had mixed

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fortunes. At least one was hanged as an example to the others, while some were allowed back into Paraguayan ranks, though they were treated with suspicion. Reinforcements were quickly brought in to swell the Paraguayan army, and the Allies heard the sounds of target practice as these new soldiers were given rapid training. Only three days after the defeat, a force of cavalry charged the allied positions. Over the next few weeks, this was to be a regular occurrence. Groups of horsemen, often less than a hundred strong, would come screaming from the bush in front of the allied lines, briefly engage the forward positions, and then retire. They came to harass rather than to win, but many in the allied armies rapidly changed their minds about the speed with which the Paraguayans would capitulate.

15 The Funnel of Death: July 1866

In the three months following the allied invasion in mid-April, the war ground virtually to a halt. In all this time, the Allies made only one minor advance—that of 20 May, when they moved their armies approximately two miles north to the positions at Tuyuty. Other than this, they took no initiative to hasten the end of the war, nor to carry on their invasion, and whatever activity there was came courtesy of Lopez and the Paraguayans. In retrospect it is clear that time was on the Allies' side and that they would grow stronger while the Paraguayans would consequently become weaker as the blockade took effect. However, it was certainly not the intention of Mitre to delay and starve the Paraguayans into surrender, and it would have been dangerous to assume that financial backing for the Allies, which came mainly from Brazil, would hold out for any length of time and that the political will at home, especially in Argentina, would remain firmly behind the war. It was a mixture of incompetence on the part of the allied leadership, particularly from Mitre and Tamandare. as well as the failure of the supply system, that caused the long and frustrating delay. The allied armies had become too settled in their positions, and the impetus to take risks and try to take on the Paraguayans became less with every day that passed. For the squadron, the defenses at Curupaity and Humaita seemed dangerous, if not impregnable, and the admiral was loath to move without any backup from the army. Mitre, who had always shown unwillingness in gathering intelligence about the enemy positions, made no attempt to discover any weak spots. He claimed that the shortage of horses had been the reason why he could not launch patrols and reconnaissances further to the east and north, around the edges of the Paraguayan defenses. In fact, while

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there were serious problems in bringing the cavalry up to full strength, there were nevertheless enough horses for these purposes, and Mitre, who, for all his virtues, lacked the aggressive mentality needed in an invading commander, must take much of the blame for the stalemate during these months. And so the allied soldiers settled into their positions. The Brazilians nicknamed the sector the linha negra—the black line—perhaps because of the black clay of the estero, or perhaps because of its connotations with death. The forward trenches, which ran through the undergrowth and at times were so close to the Paraguayans that insults could be hurled and bottles and stones thrown as missiles, were unhealthy and unpleasant. They lay in areas in which there had been heavy fighting during May, and the stench of rotting bodies and the putrid smells from the lagoons, which were choked with the dead, made them almost unbearable. While the nights were freezing, since it was winter and soldiers would awake with their tents blanketed in frost, the days seemed unusually hot, and plagues of insects and stinging sand whipped up by fierce gusts of wind added to the discomfort. Not surprisingly, these conditions caused further outbreaks of disease, and, along with dysentery and chucho, measles began to make an appearance. Much of the problem centered on the latrines as well as the lagoons, and despite all the efforts to keep the camp clean, the daily roll-call of the sick increased. General Netto was one of the most illustrious to succumb to the unhealthy conditions. There was now some improvement in the supply system, although Palleja was less than amused to receive the consignment of summer uniforms for the Uruguayan forces in the middle of winter. The other armies now seemed better clothed, and Seeber was happy with the new gray Argentine summer uniforms that made him less of a target for Paraguayan snipers, though he still wore the dark blue in winter, as did the Uruguayans, which distinguished them from the Brazilians, with their winter dress of brown drill and their all-white summer uniform. Oxcarts and ambulances, however, were in short supply, and the fourwheeled design of the latter meant that they easily became stuck in the silt of the bahados. The prompt arrival of provisions seemed to depend on the rise and fall of the river, and thus there were frequent interruptions. Such was the boredom in the camp that the arrival of fresh supplies from Buenos Aires generated a fiesta atmosphere, until the following day, when it was back to the normal, dull rations. The boredom was punctuated by the almost daily Paraguayan artillery bombardments, which were reciprocated by the Allies. Although the Paraguayan gunners were considered by both sides to be superior in terms of marksmanship, the casualties they inflicted were few. In fact, soldiers took perverse enjoyment in the daily routine of artillery firing, giving nicknames to the enemy guns and matching each other in sangfroid as the shells came over. The Allies could not understand how the Paraguayans could afford to waste so much ammunition, but Lopez seemed to have a limitless supply. They were soon to learn, however, that much of it was their own unexploded ordnance, which had been collected by the

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enemy and fired back at them from guns that had been specially cast for the purpose. Inevitably, given the fact that the positions of each side were within range of enemy artillery, there were lucky escapes. Flores, in particular, seemed to live a charmed existence. On 8 June a shell exploded just a dozen paces from his tent, scattering it with mud, and on the 19th it was blown up by a direct hit, though the Uruguayan commander was not home at the time. In fact, Flores was a favorite target of the Paraguayans, since he occupied a forward position and was vulnerable to their marksmanship. Lopez had ordered his tent to be targeted specially, and he used to watch through his telescope while his gunners attempted to hit it. For his part, Lopez was less happy to be on the receiving end. According to Thompson and Washburn, he built a huge shelter next to his headquarters, with walls and roof several yards thick, to which he retired whenever the allied shelling began. Madam Lynch, on the other hand, apparently courted danger and took delight in walking around unprotected during bombardments. In the main, the shelling was virtually useless and often served to raise morale in the side that was under fire. Over on the Paraguayan side, Lopez's quarters were situated in a beautiful position, among orange groves, on the ridge, sufficiently high above the swampy lowlands to catch the fresh breezes. He lived in a pleasant straw-roofed house in a clearing, which soon became a little village with the addition of a headquarters and the houses of Palacios, his generals, and his brothers, as well as that of Madam Lynch close by. A chapel was built—a regular feature of all of Lopez's camps—where he would hear Mass on Sundays. From here, he had a good view of the allied positions and could observe their movements through his telescope. In the grove he ordered Centurion to set up an open-air academy to teach grammar, French, English, and geography to his young adjutants. Next to his headquarters was the telegraph station, from which wires ran to Humaita and then on to Asuncion, as well as to different parts of the front line. The clacking of the operator could be heard day and night, as Lopez was inordinately proud of this modern device and ordered commanders in all sectors to send in constant reports, no matter how little activity there had been. Aides rushed to and fro with messages, and there was a continuous buzz of excitement and activity. Lopez gladly made use of the month after Tuyuty that the Allies allowed him in which to recuperate. He quickly managed to replace the losses, although inevitably the new recruits were of greatly inferior quality, being too young, too old, or too handicapped in some way to genuinely replace those who had fallen. They were trained and given constant firing practice, for the Paraguayans did not seem to suffer from any lack of ammunition, being able to make their own with great efficiency, and he blooded them in the daily skirmishes against the allied forward positions. He attended to every detail, as always, and by the end of June he had an effective strength of 20,000 men in the southern sector. As with the Allies, he had a shortage of cavalry, for the Paraguayans were equally unused to taking care of their horses, and most were weak and ill-fed. For him, however,

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this was less of an issue, for in the type of war that he was now fighting he merely had to hold the positions he currently occupied. His policy remained one of active defense. He firmly believed that by doing nothing he would hand the initiative over to the Allies and also weaken the morale of his own men. He was more careful after Tuyuty and was less prepared to risk full-scale engagements, but he saw small actions that could result in minor victories as the best way of weakening the allied resolve. He remained hopeful that the Allies' commitment to a lengthy war would weaken and that disagreements between the invading countries would cause their campaign to self-destruct. He therefore began to probe their defenses, particularly on either wing, with the intention of bringing his artillery closer to their lines and within range of their command posts. On 10 July, he sent two battalions of infantry to carry out an attack on the Argentine vanguard near Yataity-Cora on the allied right. This was one of the few positions of firm ground in the sector, and control of it would enable the Paraguayans to launch artillery and infantry assaults against the main Argentine army. They had already become used to crossing the bahado to harass the defenders whenever they noticed them changing the guard, but Mitre had tried to put a stop to this by reinforcing the position. However, at 3 P.M., the Argentines observed a strong enemy force crossing into the triangular palm wood just north of their post and requested reinforcements. Slightly later, the Paraguayans charged and surrounded them, firing rockets, which set light to the grass. The quick arrival of infantry reserves succeeded in putting the Paraguayans to flight, and they were chased back to their own lines. The following day they attacked again, this time led by Diaz with 2,500 men and backed by an artillery bombardment over the whole allied line to prevent the sending of reserves. The Argentines had reinforced their position after the previous scare, and when the enemy cavalry charged out of the wood, they quickly formed squares to resist them. Nevertheless, the weight of the Paraguayan attack caused them to be pushed off the position, and they had to withdraw, still in squares and still firing volleys. Although bolstered by reinforcements, the Argentines were unable to counterattack at that moment due to the fires caused by rockets and the sandstorms, which obscured the enemy from view. General Paunero was happy to let matters stand for the time being, since it was almost dusk, but Mitre ordered the position to be retaken, and in the fading light the Argentines moved back. In virtual darkness and fighting among undergrowth, trees, and tall clumps of grass, the battle degenerated into chaos, but by 9 P.M. the Argentines had regained the initiative. Mitre himself had come up to direct the action and was lucky to avoid being hit by a rocket that exploded close by him, while Flores. who was not directly involved but who was under covering fire from the Paraguayan artillery, watched in horror as a shell slammed into the parapet right next to him but mercifully failed to explode. The battle had been a fierce one, and the Paraguayans had lost about 400 killed and wounded to the Argentines' 250. It could be seen as another of

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Lopez's madcap schemes, but victory would have given him a valuable position from which he could have caused considerable damage to the allied right wing. He had at least provoked the Allies into open fighting, which had caused them heavy losses too and. somewhat fortuitously, had almost accounted for the lives of two of their commanders. Undeterred, he now turned his attention to the allied left. As had been seen at Tuyuty and on many occasions since, this was the weak spot of the allied line. A swathe of thick forest extended down from the right of the Paraguayan trenches, across the northern arm of the Estero Bellaco, around Potrero Sauce, passing the left of the allied positions and down to Potrero Piris. From this forest there were various openings, which were linked by tracks carved by the Paraguayans through the undergrowth and from which they could gain relatively easy access to the allied camp. Lopez had the idea that if he were to place artillery in one of these openings, it would have the dual advantage of bringing down more accurate fire on the allied headquarters as well as provoking the Allies to leave their trenches and attack his well-emplaced positions. At the beginning of July. Uruguayans in the vanguard had heard the sounds of Paraguayan artillery being dragged through the bush to their left and had consequently strengthened and extended the line of their battery. The Paraguayans had launched a small attack at dawn on 3 July from this position, but it had been easily beaten off, and Palleja hoped that this was an end to the problem. But it was not. On the 13th, Lopez ordered Thompson, Diaz, and Colonel Aquino to do a reconnaissance to investigate the possibility of setting up a permanent position just 500 yards from the main Brazilian lines. Thompson had originally been contracted as a railway engineer, but he was becoming increasingly useful as an expert in military fortifications as well. He admitted that he had taken part in the war only because he "wanted a change of air,"1 and he was glad of the opportunity to join in "what then promised to be only a military promenade over several hundred miles."2 He later wrote that the publication of the Treaty of the Triple Alliance had given him a further "zest to fight for Paraguay."3 His military abilities were completely self-taught and relied on a copy of Macaulay's Field Fortifications and the Professional Papers of the Corps of Royal Engineers, which he had somehow managed to get hold of in the country. His flair for the art of military defense was to be a major reason why the war lasted for so long. That same evening, as quietly as possible, Thompson returned with 700 soldiers to dig two trenches at the opening to the wood at Punta Naro. The Paraguayans erected cowhides to conceal the light from their lanterns, and Thompson was sure that he had managed to do the job without the Allies suspecting anything. Their spades and rifles were muffled so they did not clank, and such was the quiet that he could hear the laughing and coughing of soldiers in the allied camp. Not surprisingly, given the nature of the task, the Allies had likewise heard what he was up to, but by the time morning came, the trenches were already dug.

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As Lopez had hoped, Mitre was considerably alarmed upon discovering that the Paraguayans were now within easy range of his headquarters. He had little choice but to order an attack and insisted that it be done immediately, "since today it will cost 200 men, tomorrow 500, and afterwards who knows how many."4 However, the Allies limited themselves to simply bombarding the new Paraguayan positions, possibly because of uncertainties in command due to the sudden replacement of Osorio, who was ill, by General Polidoro, whose preparedness for action Mitre did not initially trust. In fact, the Allies made no move to attack on the 14th or the 15th either, and this gave time for the Paraguayans to reinforce their position with four guns and to dig a further trench in the opening below the area of bush known as Isla Carapa. It was not until shortly before dawn on the 16th that the Brazilians finally launched an attack, supported by Flores's artillery, on the southern trench. The morning was misty, and, as the enemy loomed into view, the Paraguayans were caught with shovels rather than rifles in their hands. While some Brazilians attacked them head-on, others went left-flanking into Potrero Piris and struggled through the dense undergrowth to try to take them from the side. After one hour's heavy fighting, the trench was captured, and the defenders retreated into the woods, where they kept up a fierce resistance. The Brazilians attempted to advance down the opening but were met by heavy fire from reserve troops and were forced to fall back to the trench. From 6.30 A.M., the Paraguayans sent reinforcements to try to regain the position, and the battle expanded as the Brazilians, too, brought in extra troops. Their artillery tried desperately to destroy the Paraguayan guns at Punta Naro, which were now raining down shells on the captured trench, and at one stage a shell from the Uruguayan battery appeared to knock out three of them. Throughout the action, the Paraguayans were firing so many rockets that one observer likened it to a public firework display. Meanwhile, the Brazilians had made further attempts to break out through the southern opening and get behind the Punta Naro trench, but they found themselves outnumbered. At 9.30 A.M., after suffering casualties to a third of their strength, they were relieved by a fresh division. This then had to put up with fierce assaults on the captured trench, including four bayonet charges, one of which accounted for the life of the Paraguayan commander, Colonel Aquino, though he lived just long enough to be promoted to general by Lopez. Nevertheless, at the end of the day it was the Allies who remained in control of the trench, though they had failed in their efforts to capture Punta Naro. Casualties had been high, with about 1,500 dead and wounded on each side, but the Allies only had themselves to blame. If they had attacked on the 14th, when the Paraguayans had first been discovered, they could easily have ousted them, but the delay, as Mitre had warned, had been costly. Furthermore, if they had taken a leaf from their enemy's book and mounted patrols at night to win control of no-man's-land, the problem would not have arisen in the first place.

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Battle of Sauce, 16-18 July 1866 Cerqueira spent a long, and extremely nervous, night on sentry duty in the bush, close to the openings that had just been fought over. In the morning he came upon a group of Paraguayans engaged in burying their dead and retreated quickly into the undergrowth. The day of the 17th passed in relative calm, as both sides reinforced their positions and prepared for the next phase of the battle. That night—the last of his life—Colonel Palleja was unable to sleep due to the continuous activity in the bush to his left as the Paraguayans brought up reinforcements. It had not been a good week. Worried by the fate of his son, of whom he had had no news, and tormented by the sandstorms and flies that made life almost unbearable, he had become increasingly depressed. His letters to a Montevideo newspaper, which would become part of his famous diary, had never shirked from revealing the problems of the Uruguayan army and its supply system, and lately he had begun to reveal more of his personal worries. A few days earlier he had returned to his tent and found that his much-loved and faithful dog, Companero, had been blown to pieces by a shell. As he had written a month before, "no one feels more closely the misfortune [of death] than he who writes these lines, but if one accepts the cause, then one must accept the consequences."5

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The morning of the 18th dawned clear. The Paraguayans had withdrawn their artillery from the Punta Naro trench the previous day, and now this forward position was guarded only by rockets and a single battalion. They had cut a track through the bush of the Isla Carapa to enable them to assault the southern trench, which was still in the hands of the Brazilians, and it was up this that the Allies sent a battalion just after dawn. This soon came up against Paraguayan guards deep in the Isla, and firing began. Flores could not see what was going on but believed that this signified the start of a Paraguayan attack, so he now ordered Colonels Palleja and Domfnguez to carry out assaults—both frontal and from the south—on the Punta Naro trench. Each column came under heavy artillery fire from the main Paraguayan positions as well as rockets from the trench, but after a single charge they forced the Paraguayans under Colonel Coronel to withdraw back into the bush. At this point the battle could have stopped, since the objective of clearing the two Paraguayan trenches that directly threatened the allied lines had been achieved. However, the allied commanders were aware that this game could continue and that the Paraguayans could simply return any time they chose. Thus it was decided to press on with the attack against the rear Paraguayan trench, which guarded the pass across the estero. This trench had been intended as a simple holding position to cover a retreat, but it now became clear that it occupied a defensive situation of great strength. The Boqueron was a channel some 40 yards across, which led directly down toward the trench that lay across the gap at the bottom. This was manned by three guns and had parapets of earth and tree trunks, with a ditch in front, from behind which the Paraguayans laid down withering fire. On either side was dense undergrowth, which gave it a "sombre"6 aspect and which at this moment was filled with Paraguayan soldiers. At first glance the position seemed impregnable, and the Boqueron appeared like a funnel of death. There seemed no alternative to a frontal assault. The distance was 400 yards, and it proved to be one of the hardest-fought pieces of ground in the entire war. Troops from all three allied armies gingerly approached the opening and were met by a terrific volley from the trench. A charge was ordered, and waves of men rushed headlong down the Boqueron toward the enemy line, from which artillery and muskets laid down a continuous hail of lead. Those who survived the dense volleys of fire soon found themselves up against the earthworks and engaged in frantic thrusting and stabbing with their enemies. The Paraguayans replied with everything. Not able to reload their muskets quickly enough, they threw musket balls and sand and mud at the attackers, and they kicked and punched and used every means to defend their position. Major Ivanowski, at the front of his Argentine battalion, turned and urged his men on, though it was the joke among them that so bad was his Spanish that no one could understand what he was saying. The Allies were now so close that the Paraguayan artillery had fallen silent, but not before Lieutenant Lemos had had both legs cut off by a single ball. Those who trembled and hesitated, appalled by the carnage and stupefied by the

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sight of their comrades falling around them, were driven on by the officers. Sergeant Linares yelled above the sound of battle, "Don't look at those who have fallen, we've come to fight and to win."7 Crazed by the excitement of battle the Argentines, supported by the Florida battalion, scaled the trench and forced the Paraguayans to retreat. Ecstatic with victory, they stood cheering on the edge of the parapet while some rushed on after the defeated enemy. From the undergrowth and woods the Paraguayans replied with musket fire, and sounds of reinforcements moving up from their lines could be heard. In the midst of all this, some of the Argentine soldiers took out their provisions and began calmly eating their meal. Domfnguez, currently in command of the captured trench, was aware of the danger of a Paraguayan counterattack, and he desperately tried to call his men to order. He sent back urgent messages requesting reinforcements and ordered the cannon to be spiked, and shells pushed into water to neutralize them. Yet when the attack came, his men were too exhausted and drained to put up much resistance. Six battalions and one regiment of dismounted cavalry, led by Colonel Diaz, spilled out of the bush and charged the trench. Heavily outnumbered and with little ammunition, Domfnguez ordered a fighting retreat. At that moment Colonel Palleja, standing close by him, was hit by an enemy bullet and fell to the ground. Dominguez ordered him to be carried away. Less than an hour after their charge down the Boqueron, the Argentines returned, stumbling, filthy, with torn and bloody uniforms, faces blackened with powder, hobbling as they tried to support the wounded, and exhausted. Some noticed that the Uruguayans were strangely silent. A number of them were clustered around a single fallen figure—one among hundreds who had not survived the desperate rush down the funnel. Colonel Palleja, as ever at the head of his men, lay inert on the ground. Eyewitnesses swore that his Florida battalion, while still under fire, stopped their retreat and stood, silently presenting arms, while four soldiers improvised a stretcher with their rifles and carried him off the battlefield. In the whole course of the conflict, few other deaths had quite such an emotional impact as his. It is not immediately easy to understand why this should be, since many brigade commanders, and higher, were to fall in battle. No clues as to his ability as a soldier appear in his diary, in which he was ever modest and reticent about his achievements, but in all the pages there is ample evidence as to his humanity and his genuine concern for his men. His attention to the sick and his repeated attempts to get medicines, food, uniforms, and shelter explain better the very real affection that he inspired. He had been a noble, and notable, figure in the history of his country, and when he died, some of the spirit went out of the Uruguayan army. Even among Paraguayans his death was recorded with respect. That should have been that, for it was clear that the trench, backed up as it was by the proximity of the Paraguayan lines, could not be taken that day. But Flores, in whose sector the battle was being fought and who was, according to the conventions of the allied forces, in command, was determined to try again. Mitre

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had sent his brother with the reinforcements requested by Colonel Dominguez, but as Emilio reached the vanguard's positions, he saw the Argentines retreating and went to Flores to ask for new instructions. Flores insisted that he launch an attack and take the trench—an order that Emilio was extremely reluctant to carry out. Under pressure from his superior, he ordered Colonel Argtiero to enter the Boqueron again and capture the Sauce trench. The colonel was under no illusions, and he took his leave of Emilio by bidding him "goodbye forever."8 He marched his column toward the opening, taking casualties from the Paraguayan artillery even before he reached it. The sight that met the eyes of his men as they entered the funnel must have been truly dreadful, for the small patch of ground was littered with the bodies of their comrades and it was impossible to make the charge without treading on the dead and wounded. With more courage than judgment, Argtiero followed his orders and marched his troops without firing a single shot and ignoring the deadly volleys from the trench, right up to the enemy positions, where they once again fixed the Argentine flags. Those few who scaled the earthworks reported that there were masses of Paraguayan troops behind. Argtiero was killed, and, given the obvious impossibility of the task and the lack of any reinforcements, his second-in-command gave the order to withdraw, whispering it so that the Paraguayan defenders, just a few feet away, should not hear. The Battle of Sauce had been a disaster for the Allies. Over 3,000 of their men had fallen, while the Paraguayans had lost only half that number. The blame must rest largely with Flores, who was nominally in command that day, but also with the failings in the allied command structure that led to some degree of chaos and lack of coordination. It was Flores's decision to press forward with the capture of the rear trench that caused so many of the casualties. The taking of Punta Naro should have meant an end to the battle, for not only was the rear trench at Sauce in an almost impregnable position, but it could not be held anyway, so distant was it from the main allied lines and so close to the Paraguayan ones. The lack of reserves was another technical failing of the Uruguayan commander, for on the occasions when it was taken, the trench could possibly have been held for some length of time if he had sent up extra troops. Flores was not fully aware of the situation, since he did not move from his command post and thus had little idea of what he was sending his men into. After the failure of the Dominguez attack, he should have realized the pointlessness of carrying on, but his eagerness to impress his superiors seems to have got the better of him. Nor was this the only problem, since throughout the day the Brazilians seemed to be operating in an almost independent role. From their positions south of the Isla Carapa, they were launching attacks on their own initiative, and, between the two Argentine assaults on the trench, they even succeeded in taking it, but as Flores was unaware of their success, he was unable to send up reinforcements, and they were beaten off. This was more the fault of the allied organization, which eschewed the use of an overall commander and dictated that wherever the

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Paraguayans attacked the commander in that sector was in charge. Normally the system worked well, and at Tuyuty the freedom of action given to each army had been very successful, but on this occasion someone who could have coordinated the Brazilian and Uruguayan/Argentine forces might have prevented some of the chaos that resulted. Lopez thus emerged the victor, though historians have been unsure to what extent this was due to his judgment rather than his good fortune. El Semanario claimed that the rapid withdrawal from the Punta Naro position was a deliberate attempt to suck the Allies into the Boqueron and encourage them to attack the Sauce trench. This may have been the case, since the initial weakness of the Paraguayan defense and the previous withdrawal of its artillery showed either an extraordinary lack of concern or a deliberate maneuver. Lopez also showed tactical acumen in launching a simultaneous attack on the right wing of the allied army, which was clearly designed to pin it down and prevent it sending reinforcements toward the main battle, and so the possibility that Sauce went the way he had planned cannot be ruled out. Certainly, he had always wanted to draw the Allies out of their trenches, though he could hardly have expected them to have been quite so obliging. At least the Allies seemed to have learned from their mistakes. They now took the opportunity to reinforce the two nearest captured trenches while moving the vanguard forward, so that these formed an integral part of their defensive line. They cut down and burnt the bush in front of them to give a better field of fire and prevent further attempts by the Paraguayans to use it as cover in an attack. They also moved artillery up to counter the Paraguayan guns, to which they were now more vulnerable. This became their outer line, and defenders were relieved daily. Several hundred yards back there was a middle line, where soldiers were permanently on alert, and behind this the tents and living quarters of the soldiers, in front of the inner line, where troops were held in reserve. The Allies were determined that they were not going to be surprised again. Some days later, Seeber and his friend, Garmendia, walked over the battlefield. The latter, as well as a battalion commander, was war correspondent for a Buenos Aires newspaper and an excellent artist, and he wanted to sketch some scenes in the area. They, too, noticed that the Paraguayan corpses were so thin that they had entered a state of mummification rather than decomposition, as was the case with the allied dead. They walked dangerously close to the Paraguayan battery at Sauce, neither man daring to suggest to the other that they return, and both were relieved when a Brazilian sentry stepped out of the undergrowth and prevented them from going any further.

16 The Attack on Curupaity: September 1866

By August 1866, the Allies had been on Paraguayan soil for four months, but they seemed to have achieved little in terms of bringing the war to a conclusion. They had fought three major actions—Estero Bellaco, Tuyuty, and Sauce—but had failed to make any significant impression on Lopez's will to continue in the defense of his country. Mitre was well aware that if the war was to be won, it would be by movement rather than waiting and hoping for Paraguay to surrender. The main reason he gave for the lack of allied initiative was the shortage of horses. In a war council meeting of 30 May, in response to Flores's criticism at the lack of progress of the war, he pointed out that of the Argentine cavalry strength of 1.700 men. only 600 actually had horses, while the Brazilians only had 200-300 mounted cavalry and the Uruguayans none. Flores and Osorio were obliged to agree that until this problem was rectified, not much could be done. The horses needed to come from Argentina, where theoretically they were in plentiful supply, but requests to the provinces to provide them revealed more clearly than ever the lack of real support for the war. Mitre demanded that Corrientes and Entre Rios. being the nearest, should provide the animals, but they argued that their stock had already been exhausted by the allied armies. In July, the Argentine government was forced to decree that these two and Santa Fe supply 5.000 horses and 1,500 mules, and despite the protests from individual citizens and diplomatic representatives, the animals were forcibly requisitioned and brought to the front. This turned out to be a successful policy as by January 1867 over 8,000 horses and almost 1,500 mules had been delivered, thereby enabling the Allies to set the war in motion again.

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There was also a need for more soldiers, but here again the Argentine provinces were reluctant to cooperate. A decree of 19 April 1865 had laid down exactly how many men each province should send, but Mitre noted that by August 1866 only 133 of the 1,750 to which he was entitled had actually arrived. The situation was beginning to cause problems within the country. The Indians on the borders had taken the opportunity, prompted by the removal of regular soldiers to Paraguay, to invade and cause disruption. Rebellions had taken place in La Rioja, Catamarca, and Cordoba, partly due to the demand for more men, and Mitre was worried that these might spread to Corrientes. Urquiza, too, had initially refused to send a battalion, arguing that he needed it to maintain order. When Elizalde proposed sending 3,000 men as reinforcements, the Argentine Congress turned him down, on 1 August, again arguing that these forces were needed to keep the peace in the interior. Lopez, too, was engaged in making life more difficult for the Allies. Aware that sooner or later his enemy would have to make an advance, he took steps to extend and fortify his defenses. In the west he lengthened the line from Sauce right up to Laguna Lopez, posting a sentry every ten paces, both to guard against attack and to prevent spies and deserters from passing, and he reinforced the artillery at Curupaity. He also built a trench at Curuzu, just to the south, and garrisoned it with 2,500 men and 13 guns under the command of Colonel Diaz. Mitre faced more difficulties from within his own command, and again they involved his two old foes, Tamandare and Porto Alegre. Up until June, the latter had been based in the province of Corrientes, and Mitre had wanted him to cross the river at Encarnacion and open a second front in the east. Porto Alegre had been unhappy at this and Tamandare, on his own initiative, suggested that the marshal cross instead at Itapiru and come to join the main army at Tuyuty. Mitre could, perhaps, have made more of a stand over this and asserted his authority, but he was to some extent limited by the ambiguous instructions concerning his role as commander-in-chief as laid down in the Treaty of the Triple Alliance, which stated that decisions were to be made in conjunction with all allied leaders. He therefore believed that he did not have the authority to oppose the two Brazilians and so, to avoid unpleasantness, he agreed. In the war council of 30 May, at which Tamandare was not present, it had been decided that the squadron should move forward before the army, to establish bases of communication and to pave the way with a bombardment of the river defenses. Osorio was given the sensitive task of explaining the decision to Tamandare, who seemed happy with it and announced that he would be ready to move in eight days. Since the admiral had already declared as far back as January that he would destroy Humaita without losing a single man and on the way put out of action all the enemy batteries below, Mitre was not hopeful of any immediate response. He had good reason: between 20 May and 1 September the squadron remained anchored just north of Cerrito, and apart from a few reconnaissances in Laguna Piris, it did almost nothing to help the war effort. Mitre was exasperated, and even Elizalde, who spent much time trying to calm down his

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president and paper over cracks between the allied commanders, wrote that he had given up on the squadron. He was convinced that Tamandare was simply delaying until the arrival of Porto Alegre, when they would move together and gain glory for their country, as opposed to fulfilling the needs of the alliance. Scorn for the squadron was shared by Lopez, who took huge delight in upsetting Tamandare. Helped by the English chemist, Masterman, and a Polish engineer, the Paraguayans constructed torpedoes that could be floated down the river to explode against the hulls of the allied ships. These devices, consisting of 40 to 50 pounds of gunpowder, were of precarious construction and usually failed to go off, since the fuses became wet; when they did, they produced a spectacular explosion, which could be heard in the allied camp at Tuyuty and scared the wits out of the Brazilian crews. By day, small boats posted at the head of the squadron could gently divert the torpedoes away from the warships or catch them in nets to be later defused, but at night there was greater danger and on 13 July one exploded, killing eight sailors. A more optimistic plan to attach a torpedo to a long pole carried by a canoe, which would knock it against the hull of an enemy ship, was turned down by Lopez as being too dangerous. However, its American inventor, Kruger, insisted, though on his first mission he succeeded only in blowing up himself and his canoe. Equally irritating to the Brazilians were the fireships, consisting of rafts piled high with brushwood and flammable materials that were set on fire and allowed to drift down among the Brazilian ships. In truth, these ingenious devices did little practical damage to the squadron, but they provided Tamandare with a reason for not keeping his promise to attack the river defenses. Once Mitre had his horses and his men and Tamandare his cousin, the war could proceed. There were two basic plans under discussion. Mitre favored sending his forces to the east to try to take Humaita from the flank, where it appeared to be weakest; but Tamandare, who saw himself excluded from the action in this case, favored an attack on Lopez's base from the forward positions of Curuzu and Curupaity. In the war council meeting of 1 July, both plans were put forward, and Porto Alegre sided with Tamandare in suggesting a frontal attack on Curuzu under cover of a bombardment from the river. He seemed to have the idea that if he were to link with his cousin, he could be independent of Mitre, and this at first made the commander-in-chief reluctant to support the idea. On 18 August there was a further war council, and Mitre's proposal of the right-flanking maneuver was accepted by all the generals present, including Porto Alegre. Tamandare then proposed a river-based assault on Curuzu, which he promised to conclude within eight days if given 6,000 soldiers. Since Mitre saw himself as unable to move within a fortnight, and not wishing to worsen relations with the Brazilians, he acceded to Tamandare's plan, provided that it could be done within the 15 days. The plan could not, naturally enough, be concluded without a squabble among the high command. Expecting trouble, Mitre wrote to the marshal on the day after the meeting to emphasize that he could only have a maximum of 6,000

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soldiers. Despite the fact that he only had a fortnight in which to act, Porto Alegre delayed until the 26th before replying that he was taking 8,500 men anyway, and having annoyed Mitre, he decided to insult Tamandare, too, by refusing to accept the latter's seniority and insisting that once on land, he would be in total command. Mitre was disturbed enough to call another war council on the 28th, simply over the issue of who was to be in charge, but on this occasion he was forced to back down and accept that Porto Alegre could have control over his part of the operation. Having overcome his principal opposition, Porto Alegre now turned his attention to the lesser evil of Lopez and the Paraguayans. On the 29th, he embarked his men of the 2nd Corps close to Itapiru, where Osorio had landed some four months earlier, but, noticing that the barometer forecast bad weather, and despite the fact that his time span was fast running out, he promptly disembarked them again. Only on 1 September did his army begin to move upriver and join the squadron on the short journey to Curuzu. At 11 A.M., Tamandare left behind the vulnerable wooden ships near Isla Palmar and proceeded with his ironclads toward Curuzu to bombard the fort. During the night of 1 September, Tamandare's engineers announced that they had found a way through the torpedoes and sunken boats that guarded the entrance to Curupaity, and the admiral resolved to send his ironclads up to shell its defenses while Porto Alegre landed his troops at Guardia del Palmar. A Paraguayan detachment met the Brazilians with musket fire but, attacked by one of the gunboats, it soon retreated toward the trench line at Curuzu, setting fire to the bush along the way. The Brazilian vanguard landed and went up the track to construct a trench to prevent the Paraguayans from moving reinforcements to oppose the landing. By 3 P.M., all the troops had disembarked. Tamandare, however, had been less fortunate. His squadron had shelled Curupaity and Curuzu but had suffered some damage when the Paraguayan artillery fired back, and at 2 P.M. one of the ironclads, Rio de Janeiro, was torpedoed and sank in just a few minutes, drowning 53 of the crew, including its commander, Lieutenant Silvado, a veteran of the Crimean War. Late on the afternoon of the 2nd, Porto Alegre sent an urgent message to Mitre pleading for a diversionary attack on the Paraguayan left to prevent Lopez sending reinforcements to Curuzu. He was worried because the defensive system that he was about to attack seemed better prepared than he had supposed. Although it was limited to a single trench, it stretched the whole way across from the river to a lagoon—about 900 yards in length. In fact, it was far from impregnable, as most of the guns were in fixed positions near the river, and the terrain between Curuzu and Curupaity, about a mile distant, was full of lagoons and could be traversed only by a narrow path along the river bank, which could be put under fire by the squadron. Nevertheless, Porto Alegre was clearly nervous about the coming battle. During the night the Paraguayans again set fire to the bush around the Brazilians, but the wind blew the flames in the opposite direction.

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Porto Alegre need not have worried, however, for the Paraguayan defense of Curuzu the next morning was one of their feeblest and least heroic actions of the war. The Brazilians attacked at 6 A.M. and soon reached the enemy trench with few casualties. Here they made an unpleasant discovery: the parapet towered above them, and Porto Alegre had forgotten to equip them with scaling ladders. In the lee of the trench they were relatively safe, since the Paraguayans could not fire down upon them, but they could not stay there forever. Fortunately, Lieutenant Colonel Pereira da Costa, commander of the Light Brigade, had already carried out a reconnaissance mission earlier that morning and had discovered that the bahado on the allied right was fordable, so he moved his troops along the line of the trench, and, wading with difficulty through the water, they succeeded in going around the side of the enemy position to come upon the defenders from the rear. The turning point of the action came when the Paraguayan 10th Battalion, seeing the Brazilians breaking through, panicked and fled along the path to Curupaity without firing a shot. The remaining defenders stayed at their posts and held out for a short while, but over 700 were killed or wounded, and they soon surrendered. The Brazilians gleefully pursued the escaping enemy and advanced almost as far as Curupaity before their officers succeeded in reasserting control. Within a few hours, Porto Alegre had established a base on the Paraguay River, captured 13 guns, and inflicted a morale-damaging defeat on the enemy. He had lost a similar number of men to the Paraguayans, however, and he blamed this on the lack of covering fire from the squadron. His fears about counterattacks from Paraguayan reinforcements had proved unfounded as, yet again, Lopez had left his men to fend for themselves. Porto Alegre's frantic letter asking for diversionary movements had only reached Tuyuty at 3 A.M. in the morning, too late for much to be done; however, Polidoro did make a small demonstration in front of the Paraguayan central positions, and Flores conducted a flanking maneuver to the allied right with 3,000 cavalry, which involved him in some light skirmishes but had little effect on the outcome of the battle. Lopez reacted to the defeat with fury. Colonel Gimenez, the commander of the 10th Battalion, and his deputy were demoted to sergeant, while the other officers had to draw lots to decide who should be executed. Half of them were shot, as an example to the others, and the survivors were reduced to the ranks. To further drive the message home, the battalion was decimated—every tenth man being taken from the line and executed in front of his comrades. At that point Porto Alegre, with approximately 7,500 men and backed up by the squadron, was little more than a mile away from Curupaity, which had virtually no land defenses and was the last major obstacle before the Paraguayan base at Humaita. It was not realized at the time how important it was for the Brazilians to press on, capture the fort, and thus avoid the disaster that was to come. Porto Alegre had agreed to capture both positions, and Tamandare had been full of brio about his ability to destroy everything before Humaita, but both

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lost their nerve and preferred to remain where they were. Porto Alegre argued that he was unwilling to press on immediately, as his troops were tired and he had no knowledge of the state of the Paraguayan defenses. An immediate reconnaissance might have established the latter, however, and it was nearly three weeks before he finally moved. Lopez, though, did not delay. He was only too aware of the significance of Curupaity and of the need to reinforce it as a protective shield for his main base. He sent Thompson to the front to organize its defenses, and from 8 September the Paraguayans worked day and night to build a trench and create what they hoped would be an impregnable defensive position. Five thousand men under Captain Caballero were sent both as engineers and as defenders, cutting down trees to form obstacles and digging deep into the rock-hard ground, surprisingly unmolested by the Allies. And then, on 10 September, Lopez asked to meet Mitre and the allied leaders to discuss peace. Taken aback, Mitre had a hurried meeting with Flores and Polidoro, but the latter was adamant that no parley should take place, arguing that he had no instructions to talk with Lopez, only to defeat him. Flores could not see any point in a meeting, but he had no objection in hearing the Paraguayan dictator, at least to find out what he was proposing. Mitre composed a short note, suggesting that Lopez meet him at 9 A.M the following day among the palm trees at YataityCora. This letter caused Lopez considerable anxiety—almost as if it were the last thing that he was expecting. Having proposed a meeting, he was now worried in case it might turn into a trap and that the Allies might take the opportunity to arrest him. To avoid this possibility, he ordered a unit of sharpshooters to hide in the undergrowth close by the meeting place, though in the event it was unlikely that these could have been much use to him. The morning of the 11th was beautifully sunny, and Lopez traveled in his four-wheeled "American" coach, surrounded by a mounted escort, from Paso Pucii down the ridge to Paso Gomez, where he mounted a horse and rode below the line of Paraguayan trenches toward Yataity-Cora. This was not the shortest route to take, and it was probable that Lopez wanted both to disguise the site of his headquarters as far as possible from the Allies and to get a good look at his own positions from the enemy perspective. He seemed very nervous and had to fortify himself with a cognac and water along the way. He had taken care with his wardrobe and was dressed in military uniform—though only that of a general, since there was no one in Paraguay capable of fashioning for him a marshal's regalia—and cloaked with a poncho that had been given to his father by the Brazilian emperor and still had the imperial crown embroidered upon it. The three allied leaders approached from the south with a small escort, and the two sides entered the palm wood before dismounting. Introductions were made, but Polidoro refused to shake hands and abruptly withdrew, so that Lopez was left alone with Mitre and Flores. Aides brought chairs, and the three leaders sat down to discussions. The atmosphere was tense, and Flores flared up after a

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suggestion by Lopez that he had been unpatriotic in seeking Brazilian help in 1864. Furious, the Uruguayan stalked away, and the two opposing commandersin-chief were left alone. We have only sketchy versions of the subsequent meeting, which is curious, as Mitre, at least, was usually so good at recording anything of importance; yet his letters are tantalizingly reticent about the whole business. By all accounts the conversation was as civilized as could have been expected, but, regrettably, it was also as unproductive. Lopez began by explaining that he had only fought against Brazil because it had invaded Uruguay and had only taken on Argentina because it had interfered in the Uruguayan question and because it had close links with Brazil. He would now accept a peace, provided that it could be an honorable one. Mitre replied that he was bound by the terms of the Triple Alliance. Lopez, now fully aware of these, reminded him that they were hardly a basis for peace at this time and that he could not accept terms that would make his own defeat so humiliating. He offered, nevertheless, to discuss any difficult points, including the question of limits. Mitre was unable to say much because of the absence of his fellow allied leaders and because of the treaty that bound him, and he could offer little in return, but he made it clear that Lopez would have to leave the country before any peace could be agreed. After a few hours it became clear to both that nothing could be resolved. The two men walked for a while and then shook hands, exchanged riding whips, and Lopez offered cigars. Mitre accepted, but Flores, who had just returned, refused with disdain. Lopez rode back to his lines by the same circuitous route and had lunch with Madam Lynch before returning to his headquarters. The one document to emerge from this meeting was a memorandum, agreed to by both, indicating that it was Lopez who had invited Mitre "to find a conciliatory and honorable means for all belligerents to see whether the blood spilled so far cannot be considered as sufficient to wash clean the mutual quarrels, putting an end to the bloodiest war in America . . . and guaranteeing a permanent state of peace and sincere friendship."1 Mitre undertook merely to contact the other allied leaders. Both in isolation and in the context of the war as a whole, this seemed an extraordinary incident. Historians have debated exactly what Lopez's motives really were. Paraguayans, anxious either to attribute to him a high degree of cunning and of political and military skill or to paint him in the colors of a treacherous and ignoble zealot, have assumed that his motive was simply to buy time. He was in a desperate situation, and after the defeat at Curuzu he had apparently remarked to Thompson that "things could not possibly look any more diabolical than they do."2 His aim in talking to Mitre was simply to stall any immediate allied follow-up by gaining for his forces valuable hours in which to reinforce the trenches at Curupaity. This, in fact, was exactly what happened. Yet it has not really been considered whether Lopez might genuinely have reacted to the weakness of his position by seeing whether there was any hope of peace. The course of subsequent events has tended to show him as a fanatic and

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a desperado, without much consideration of whether this role was not forced upon him by the intransigence of the Allies. The fact that he was exploiting the truce to reinforce Curupaity does not prove that he would not have accepted peace if reasonable terms were on offer. The clauses of the treaty were horrifying, and it would only have been natural for him to see if any compromise could be found or at least to test the strength of allied resolve through negotiation. More significant was the allied reaction to his proposal, for there seemed initially to be the difference of opinion within their ranks that Lopez might have been seeking. The Argentinians, who through Mitre had at least talked to him, found some degree of optimism in the meeting and even went so far as to allow the commander-in-chief the status of plenipotentiary to discuss peace, if suitable terms were forthcoming, and if the other allies agreed. However, following an angry reaction from Brazil, which virtually accused him of trying to negotiate a separate agreement with Paraguay, Mitre was obliged to back down and reject Lopez's overtures. It was perhaps curious that the Brazilians should have adopted the most hardline position, since outwardly the objectives of the alliance seemed to favor them less than they did Argentina; this was, however, consistent with their policy throughout the war. A Brazilian order of 29 November 1865 forbade any meeting with Lopez or one of his representatives, while he remained in Paraguay, and decreed that any proposals of peace, or of an armistice, should be immediately rejected, no matter what the circumstances in which they were made. Elizalde found this attitude "absurd,"3 but it was one that was to grow in strength, particularly when Brazil became the main belligerent on the allied side. This seems to have been due to the influence of Pedro II, who maintained an undying hatred of Lopez and a desire to see him overthrown. This was partly down to ideological reasons, for the Paraguayan represented the dark forces of the interior and caudillismo, which the emperor, like Mitre, wished to overthrow, but also to the personal affront that Pedro felt after the seizing of the Marques de Olinda in 1864. The emperor was also astute enough to realize that his position, and the system of government over which he ruled, depended on a recognizable victory, which might explain why he intervened more than usual in demanding a continuation of the war. He was backed by a government for whom victory was also seen to be essential and who dared not come out with an agreement that left Lopez, who had long been the target of their propaganda, still in charge of Paraguay. Whatever Lopez's real motives for the peace talks, he had certainly not wasted the breathing space that they had given him, and by the time the Allies came to finalize their plans for attacking Curupaity, it had been transformed into a fortress of considerable strength. The Paraguayans worked continuously, in eight-hour shifts, to fortify the position. The ground immediately in front, along which any attack must come, was bounded by the river and Laguna Lopez, and it was covered with bahados and thick undergrowth. Across this the Paraguayans built a ditch, which soon became waterlogged. Behind were spread abatis—obstacles

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consisting of cut-down trees with the branches intact, piled up in a tangled heap— a simple defense to make, though almost unknown in previous continental warfare, yet extremely difficult to overcome. Beyond was the main earthwork, which was over 12 feet high, and behind that the trench. Here 49 guns were fixed into position, with 13 facing the river to counter the squadron and, learning from the mistake at Curuzu, the others guarding against attack from the land. Beside each gun was its ammunition deposit, dug into the ground under rounded pillboxes topped with wood and earth, which were the only things the attackers could see emerging over the parapet. The position was manned by 5,000 men. Unlike Curuzu, it could not be breached by a simple flanking maneuver, other than one that bypassed the lagoon entirely, and the river cliffs were sufficiently high to deter an assault from that direction. On 21 September, Thompson inspected the position for Lopez and reported that it was "very strong."4 He was not exaggerating. The grand plan, which was to result in the Battle of Curupaity, emerged from the squabbling and tensions among the allied generals, less as a definite entity and more as a series of compromises. Mitre clearly did not want to attack the fort at all. He had given Porto Alegre 15 days to complete his supporting maneuver, and although the general had made an important gain at Curuzu, his inability to follow up meant that Mitre preferred to revert to his original plan of outfl anking the Paraguayans on their left. However, he faced determined opposition from Tamandare and his cousin, who insisted on Curupaity as the next target. The admiral repeated his boast that he could level the defenses in just two hours, and somehow he managed to convince the commander-in-chief to go along with him. The arrival of Porto Alegre, and his alliance with Tamandare, had upset the balance of power on the war council, which had hitherto favored Mitre. Also present at the discussions was Octaviano, the special Brazilian representative, who, although Mitre did not fully trust him and accused him of joining in the "childish"5 behavior of the newcomers, seems to have played an important role in easing the tensions and liaising closely with Elizalde. Mitre could hardly now abandon Curuzu, for both diplomatic and military reasons, and he saw himself having to commit more of the army to his left flank, which left him to face the rest of Lopez's defenses with little more than equal numbers. The agreed plan was that Curupaity should be the focus of a general movement all along the line and should be taken after a preliminary bombardment by the squadron, which would hopefully knock out the guns and cause severe disruption to the Paraguayans within their trench. It would be supported by a demonstration in front of the Paraguayan lines at Tuyuty by Polidoro, which would discourage Lopez from sending reinforcements to the river, and by a flanking maneuver led by Flores on the Paraguayan left, which would further divert enemy resources. Both men would be ready to turn their movements into attacks if the situation seemed favorable. The exact nature of these two supporting roles was left so ambiguous as to render them almost optional, and they

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served, in retrospect, as examples of the disastrously incompetent and inept strategic planning of the operation. The attack was scheduled for the 17th. The fleet was prepared, and allied reinforcements had been brought ashore, so that 20,000 Brazilian and Argentine troops were now ready for action. However, yet again, the weather intervened. Although the morning was dry and the armies were prepared, there was no sign of movement from the fleet, and, on inquiring, Mitre was informed that Tamandare sensed rain in the air and so was refusing to move. For once he was right. At 9.30 A.M. the rain fell in torrents and lasted, on and off, until the 20th, turning the area ahead into a swamp and rendering the guns and muskets inoperable. When it stopped, it was agreed to give the ground time to dry out, and the attack was rescheduled for the 22nd. Seeber, at least, saw action on the 18th, when he was part of an armed reconnaissance to test the alertness of the Paraguayan defenders. He was able to learn at first hand that the enemy was, indeed, very well prepared, and with this knowledge the intervening wait cannot have been a pleasant one. While the allied troops waited in frustration, the Paraguayans worked like beavers to finish their positions. Thompson later wrote that Curupaity was only prepared to his satisfaction on the 21st, and that if the attack had been made when it was intended, the Allies would surely have won. On the eve of the operation, Colonel Rosetti of the Argentine army confided to Seeber and some of his fellow officers his belief that the Allies would be defeated. He could see that the Paraguayan position was strong and that the ground in front was extremely treacherous. There had been no proper reconnaissance of the terrain, apart from a few token efforts by Mitre and Seeber's brief encounter, and he had also spotted—though it seemed to have evaded everyone else's attention—that the river banks were of such height that the squadron could not possibly see into the Paraguayan trench to ascertain what damage they were causing. He was critical of the allied commanders for not using their artillery to try to destroy the abatis and soften up the Paraguayan trenches prior to the advance. Rosetti was convinced that he would die in the attack with a musket ball in the belly, and he had already given precise instructions to his second-incommand over how to assume the leadership in the midst of the action. He was not alone. Captain Domingo Sarmiento had hitherto been convinced that he would survive, and, while chiding his mother who poured out her fears about his safety in countless letters, he had referred often to his "lucky star." On the eve of this attack, however, his tone abruptly changed. "War is a game of chance," he wrote, "and fortune can smile on, or abandon whoever exposes himself to enemy fire."6 Tamandare had no such qualms, and on the morning of the 22nd he moved three ironclads level with the Paraguayan trench, keeping his other ships outside the range of the enemy guns, and began his bombardment. As predicted by Rosetti, he could see nothing of the effect his guns were having, and when he

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raised the red and white, and blue flags to signal that his job was done, this was more in hope than in knowledge, and based only on the fact that the two hours in which he had promised to lay low the defenses had now elapsed. At the same time, the Argentine artillery opened up from the land and although Mitre noticed, to his alarm, that the shells did not seem to be reaching the Paraguayan lines he nevertheless did nothing to delay the assault. The Allies were drawn up ready for the attack just under a mile away from the Curupaity trench. The Brazilians were on the left, in two parallel columns under the general command of Porto Alegre, with the Argentines in the center and right, also in two columns. On the Brazilian side, which was nearest to the river, there was a fair amount of bush, which gave them cover and protection; for the Argentines, on the other hand, the ground was open, and from the moment they left camp they were exposed to fire from Paraguayan artillery and muskets. One battalion was placed adjacent to the Paraguayan position, on the Chaco side of the river, from where it could fire into, and along, the enemy line. As was normal, the soldiers were dressed for the attack in parade uniforms, as if for a gala occasion. When Tamandare's flag went up, the whole allied line moved forward with shouts and yells of enthusiasm, to the stirring sounds of drums rolling and bugles blowing out the order to advance. They were met with fire from the Paraguayan trench, which continued ceaselessly throughout the battle, and it was immediately clear that the naval bombardment had been virtually useless. Some of the men were weighed down with ladders, which were to be used for scaling the earthworks, and with fascines—bundles of sticks for filling in trenches and enabling soldiers to cross—so that they were bent almost double with the weight and could barely see where they were going. The well-organized columns broke up almost immediately once the abatis and forward ditch were reached, for scaling these needed individual effort, and strict formations could not be used. Many died while trying to force their way through the tangled, spiny branches under direct fire from the Paraguayan trench. The fascines floated on the water in the ditch and were therefore virtually useless, and so men had to drop down into the trench, wade across, and climb up the other side still under direct enemy fire from only 500 yards away. Beyond the ditch lay more abatis, and finally the high earthworks that now seemed almost unscalable. By this time the units had split up into small groups, and commanders were desperately trying to find and rally their men. More problems were caused by rockets from either side setting fire to the clumps of grass, which further obscured the view. The two central columns had been the first to move, and the right-hand one, which had started some way behind, had to trot to make up the distance. The 2nd column, under Colonel Carvalho, crossed the ditch and reformed, but its way was now blocked by the abatis, and so, under murderous volleys, it moved to the left to try to get around the side of the trench. This caused the column to

Battle of Curupaity, 22 September 1866

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transform itself into a line, just in front of the Paraguayan artillery, who did not decline the invitation to pour fire into it. The 3rd column was stopped by the abatis and could not advance, and it too came under sustained fire. A similar fate befell the 4th column on the extreme right, which also found itself under fire from Paraguayan artillery placed on its right flank on a spit of land in the Laguna Lopez. About the only problem for the Paraguayans during the whole battle—protected as they were by their strong earthworks, and now that the squadron had kindly stopped shelling them—was which of the many targets they should aim at. In fact, as in most battles of the age, the gunners very quickly lost sight of their enemy behind the thick clouds of powder smoke, and so they spent most of the time firing mechanically, without bothering much about aiming; but on this occasion they could hardly miss. General Diaz rode along the line, inspiring his men. but for once his considerable powers of leadership were scarcely needed. Only on the far left did the Brazilian 1 st column under Colonel Caldashave some success. Protected by the thick bush until close to the enemy trench, it managed to advance with fewer casualties, and one small unit actually succeeded in breaking through the line, though it became isolated, and all its men were killed. A reserve brigade, which had been sent to try to follow up this assault, became confused when it saw the returning dismounted lancers, and. mistaking them for the enemy, it disbanded in panic and ran into the bush, defying all attempts by its officers to rally it and force it back into action. After two hours, in which the exposed troops had either sacrificed themselves in fruitless attempts to get near to the enemy positions or else had frantically tried to find cover from the hail of bullets and shrapnel, it was perfectly clear that the trench could not be taken, and the command was given to withdraw. In most cases this was accomplished in an orderly manner, but in the 2nd column those nearest the trench, who were most directly in danger from enemy bullets, ran back and caused the troops behind them to panic, so that soldiers began stampeding toward their lines. Unbelievably, perhaps due to a false rumor that the Brazilians had penetrated the trench on the left of the allied line, a counter-order was then issued for the attack to be renewed. Colonels Rivas and Arredondo consulted together and agreed that it was madness, but reluctantly decided to obey. The attack was resumed, with the weary and terrified men being forced back into the carnage, but with similar results. Eventually, after four hours, better sense prevailed, and the exhausted troops were permitted to withdraw to their starting positions, leaving the battlefield strewn with the dead and wounded. Elsewhere on the front there had been little or no activity in support of the attack. Polidoro. in the center, had mobilized his troops the moment that firing was heard from the fleet, but his scouts, who were looking out for the flag signal from Tamandare that would indicate that he could now proceed with his forward movement, were unable to see this confirmation, and so for the whole day the Brazilians at Tuyuty did virtually nothing. Flores was rather more adventurous and led his cavalry around to the left flank of the Paraguayan lines, where they

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fought a couple of skirmishes and reached almost as far as Tuyu Cue before returning to the camp. In no way, however, did the failure of these two movements have any effect on the outcome at Curupaity. When it was all over, the Paraguayans left their trenches and came to scout around the allied dead and wounded. They stripped them of their weapons and even of their uniforms, for many of the defenders were now clad in little more than loincloths. Those who were fit enough to walk were taken prisoner, while those who were not were finished off with bullets and bayonets. Much was made of the cruel fate of these men, but the Allies had made no attempt to bring them in, nor to request a truce under which they might be collected. Unnecessarily, the Paraguayans tied some of the dead together and floated their naked bodies down the river to Curuzu. The Argentines had lost around 2,000 men, which amounted to almost one half of those who had taken part, while the Brazilians had lost similar numbers, though only 20% of their strength. This was one of the few battles of the war in which the Argentines had been more heavily committed, and it therefore took on the nature of a personal defeat. Garmendia noted that for the first time men of all provinces, not just Buenos Aires, were involved and that when news of the defeat trickled back, the country was temporarily united, albeit in grief. In some ways it virtually knocked Argentina out of the war, and thereafter it would play mainly a supporting role to the Brazilians, but it also forged the beginnings of a national spirit and provided a symbol of unity that was ultimately to accomplish Mitre's aims far better than any other measure he had undertaken. The apparent pointlessness of the sacrifice focused attention even more clearly on the heroism of those who had undertaken it. Among those killed were Colonel Charlone, the hero of the attack on Corrientes, Francisco, the son of Vice President Paz, and Colonel Rosetti, who had correctly forecast the nature of his own demise. In Buenos Aires, shopkeepers held collections to support the families of the dead and wounded and also to provide more men for the war. Dominguito, too, had fallen. Struck by grapeshot in the Achilles tendon and unable to staunch the wound, he had lain on the ground and slowlv bled to death. His stepfather, who had been devoted to him, was in Washington as Argentine ambassador, and for a while Mitre tried to keep the news from him by withholding journals containing the names of the dead. But this could not last, and the future president soon learned that he, too, shared in the grief of so many of his countrvmen. The Paraguayans had lost fewer than 100 dead and wounded, and for them it had been a huge victorv, although one that had fallen into their hands. Unsurprisingly, Lopez was delighted and invited Diaz back to headquarters for a champagne supper, where he said that the general's name would live forever in the hearts of his compatriots. Later came the inevitable post mortem. The main culprits were assumed to be Mitre and Tamandare, and the nationalist press in Buenos Aires and Rio de Janeiro each went to extremes in blaming the defeat on the commander of the

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other country. Although Tamandare, and Porto Alegre, had been a nuisance and had succeeded in diverting Mitre into the attack on Curupaity, and although the squadron had failed totally to do what it had promised—that is, neutralize the Paraguayan trench—the final decision to attack had still been made by Mitre. His weakness as a commander was to blunder into events without proper awareness. He launched the allied forces unsure of either the strength of the Paraguayan positions or of the damage that the fleet had done—a failing that amounted to negligence and military incompetence. Yet although the responsibility was his, the blame must to some extent be placed on the situation created by the treaty that bound him. He had undertaken the attack in the interests of harmony within the alliance, when a simple assertion of authority would have kept him away from Curupaity in the first place. In the main, the treaty had worked extraordinarily well, and Mitre deserves huge credit for his diplomatic handling of relations between the two essentially rival powers. His cooperation with Osorio and Polidoro showed that Argentines and B razilians could work together perfectly happily if there was goodwill on both sides, but at Curupaity this mutual tolerance was absent. After the battle, this situation became worse. Porto Alegre demanded reinforcements to bring his strength up to 10,000 men, so that he could hold Curuzu, a small outpost that was now of very limited strategic importance. Polidoro did not judge it necessary to reply with the same degree of diplomacy as Mitre was accustomed to use, and his response was highly intemperate. In meetings between the leaders it was clear that the disaster had not cleared the air nor lent any degree of caution and tact to the two Brazilians. Porto Alegre now put forward the idea of a flanking maneuver through the Chaco, a basically intelligent suggestion but one that the frustrated Mitre was in no mood to accept. He wrote to Elizalde that he no longer included the fleet in any of his plans, and he confided that he found Tamandare "inadequate in every way for the post that he fills, and an enemy of the alliance for personal motives/'7 The situation was rescued by a change of government in Brazil. The Liberal ministry fell in August, which left Tamandare and Porto Alegre without political support. The new rulers had their own candidate for the top military post in Marshal Caxias, a man of considerable political and military status. Either voluntarily or not, Porto Alegre and Tamandare asked to be relieved of their commands in December and were replaced by General Argolo and Admiral Ignacio, respectively. Caxias was then appointed as the supreme commander of all Brazilian forces, including the squadron, to Mitre's great relief. The Brazilians had learned that one cooperative leader was preferable to three squabbling ones, and the arrival of the marshal in mid-November was warmly welcomed throughout the allied armies.

17 The Long Pause: September 1866 to August 1867

Yet for almost a year—between September 1866, when the Allies failed in their assault on Curupaity, and August 1867, when they began their attempts to outflank the Paraguayan positions—the war ground virtually to a halt. There was no positive intention to this, and Lopez's claims that the Allies were deliberately stalling in order to starve the Paraguayans into surrender cannot be substantiated. The inactivity was caused more by the slowness in replacing the men lost at Curupaity and a desperate lack of military and political willpower to continue with the conflict. For Lopez, wounded by the steady drain on manpower caused by his policy of aggressive defense, the delay was a mixed blessing. It did at least enable him to call up and train more reserves and build up his forces ready for the eventual allied offensive, but the problems resulting from the blockade meant that time was not on his side and the inertia was slowly causing his people and his country to waste away. There was little he could do. The Allies at Tuyuty were far too strong for him to attack, and unless they moved and provided him with some opening, he was forced to join in their waiting game. He decided in the meantime to reinforce his lines. The trenches at Curupaity were deepened and the parapets raised, and more artillery was brought up to strengthen the position. A road was cut from the fort to the main earthworks at Sauce, thus linking the two separate trench systems and providing a ring of defenses that by now almost surrounded Humaita. Burton estimated that there were some 12,300 yards of trenches in all, most of them nine feet deep, including the parapets, which were reinforced with tree trunks and branches. Lopez dammed the northern channel of the Estero Bellaco, which caused the level of

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the stream to rise six feet and flood the area, making it almost impassable except via the wooden plank bridges that he built for the use of his own soldiers. He dug a channel leading into the old trench at Sauce, which he could flood by means of a sluice gate if the Allies tried to occupy it. Cerqueira recalled that his side, too, occupied much of its time in digging trenches during these long months, and Burton was more impressed with their efforts, which were deeper and properly revetted with sods of earth. Lopez's foundry at Ibicuy now began producing huge guns that could reach further back into the allied lines, including the "General Diaz," a 32-pounder, and the "Criollo," which carried a 150-pound shot. A ten-inch, rifled cannon, made from the melted-down metal of the church bells of Ibicuy, named "Cristiano," was brought up to Curupaity to deter the squadron. These had ranges in excess of 5,000 yards and added more menace to the regular artillery duels. The Brazilians also added more guns to their armory, including two rifled Whitworths that had a high velocity and that were nicknamed "fius" by the Paraguayans because of the sound made by their shells as they whistled overhead. With greater or lesser degrees of enthusiasm, the bombardments continued throughout these months. Sometimes it was estimated that 600-700 shells might be fired per day, especially at Curupaity, which was a favorite target for the squadron. Once, in December, there was a massive explosion as a fortunate shot hit a Paraguayan powder magazine, killing 46 and sending an enormous column of black smoke skywards. This coincided with an allied bombardment against Paso Gomez, and Paraguayan troops were stood to, expecting that the Allies might try to take advantage of the confusion. For the most part, however, the artillery duels were harmless, and soldiers of each side quickly became accustomed to them. As soon as the allied guns opened up. the Paraguayans would blow frantically through cow horns, called turututus, which produced a cacophonous medley designed to irritate the allied soldiers. Far from showing annoyance, these quickly replied with their own version, and at times the activities along the front line were more farcical than bellicose. After Lopez offered a cup of maize for every armful of shell splinters that could be gathered and reused, the Paraguayans even began to look forward to the bombardments, and their effect, which had been inconsequential anyway, was now almost completely nullified. They may have frightened Lopez, however. Centurion noted that so terrified was he of the shelling that, as at Paso Pucu, he ordered a wall 90 feet long, 15 feet high, and 36 feet wide at the base to protect his house from the guns of the allied fleet at Curupaity, and Washburn also alluded to a huge bombproof shelter that the dictator had erected next to his house and into which he would scuttle whenever the shells came over. Aware of the story. Burton in 1868 looked for signs of its existence, but found none. Either the Paraguayans had taken the trouble to raze it completely, to avoid any suggestion that Lopez was a coward, or, perhaps more likely, it had never existed in the first place. Some excitement was caused by an observation balloon that the Allies managed to get hold of. This had mixed results, as the prototype, designed by a

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French engineer and made of silk, caught fire and was destroyed. However, the second version had more success, and its American pilot was able to get a good view of the Paraguayan lines, enabling engineers like Chodaziewicz to sketch their positions in detail. Paraguayan historians recount how amazed Bishop Palacios was at the sight, and how he was convinced that when the balloon passed behind a cloud, it had ascended to heaven. Lopez took a more down-toearth view of the situation and ordered damp grass to be burnt to create smoke and thereby obscure his lines from aerial observation. He must have been successful, for after a few weeks the balloon was not used again. To relieve the boredom induced by this long spell of inactivity, allied soldiers could always go the few kilometers behind the lines to Paso de la Patria, which had grown from a small village into a port of some significance. Its harbor was always filled with ships of all sizes, unloading supplies and horses and more men—either fresh recruits, or veterans discharged from the hospitals of Corrientes and Buenos Aires, and officers returning from leave. Here the sick and wounded were taken on board for the journey in the opposite direction. Around the port something of a wild-west town was emerging, with muddy streets and shacks—some of wood, others of straw, but some brick-built and more permanent. The ubiquitous traders, who had pestered the allied armies as they marched through Corrientes, had now developed into more permanent storekeepers and merchants. Here, a soldier could find more or less whatever he wanted: there were banks, doctors and dentists, and stores selling spurs, perfumes, uniforms, mirrors, and whips, and all sorts of food, including cheese, salami, sardines, and even fine wines such as Clicqot, and Havana cigars. And of course there were the brothels. Strangely, Osorio had at first tried to put an end to these and send back the girls, who were almost an inevitable feature of a military camp. Such was the outcry from his men that the general good-humoredly relented, and the brothels stayed and thrived. There were also dance halls, a theater, and officers' clubs and coffee shops, and some traders would even drag their carts right up to the front lines and sell goods to the soldiers in the trenches, so that it often became unclear whether one was witnessing the interval in a theatrical performance or a real war. Their prices continued to be exorbitant—one pound sterling for two small rolls, as hard as bullets—and soldiers' pay, which was at best irregular and often six to twelve months in arrears, would quickly disappear. To cope with this, there was a local currency, with gold coins chopped into halves or quarters and all taken as legal tender. The town, like Corrientes further downstream, was also a haven for criminals and deserters. The latter would slip away from their units and mingle with the crowds of people in the port, trying to buy a place home on one of the boats or hire a canoe to paddle across the river to Argentina. Many of these were desperate people, for the punishments were still severe, and they gave to both towns a violent and unwholesome character. Burton noted that if a stranger asked for a light, it was quite in order to put one's cigar in the barrel of a revolver and offer it that way.

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It was perhaps not surprising that it should be here that the cholera first broke out, in April 1867. Arriving from Europe through Buenos Aires and then along the supply lines of the allied armies, it made its first appearance at Paso de la Patria via a troopship, before spreading throughout the armies of all the warring countries. In the confined spaces of the military camps, and particularly in the inadequate water supplies, it found a ready breeding ground. In this particular outbreak over 4,000 allied soldiers died and innumerable Paraguayans, and it was to recur from time to time throughout the remaining years of the campaign. The Allies built barns in Potrero Piris, and these were filled daily with the sick, as later were the cemeteries. The Paraguayans built a huge hospital on the road to Humaita, whose first patients were not the wounded but those struck down by this new scourge. As many as 2,000 beds were filled throughout this period, most with cholera cases. For the officers there were small huts, where they could be isolated and where their chances of surviving were correspondingly greater. It seemed to affect the Paraguayans more, possibly because of their already weakened state, though neither side really had the means to combat it. The Brazilians had drugs, though they preferred to use alcohol, while the Paraguayans had the idea of burning laurel leaves, whose incense, it was hoped, would ward off the disease; all this seemed to do, however, was to cause respiratory problems and it was soon abandoned. Lopez also forbade the use of the word "cholera," perhaps in the hope that this, too, might prove a preventative. Generals Resquin and Bruguez caught it, as did Dr. Skinner, possibly from the daily contact he had with the sick, but all survived. It is possible that Lopez, too, may have contracted it, for he was certainly very ill at this time, and at one moment it was even thought that he might die. But Stewart suspected that water was the problem, and therefore forbade patients to drink it. This caused them to be crazed with thirst, not least because dehydration was one of the effects of the disease, and Lopez had to be physically restrained to prevent him from grabbing his canteen. Dealing with the dictator in this way, aware that any suspicious behavior could result in arrest and death, was clearly a traumatic process for his doctors, and it must have been sorely tempting to have allowed him his way. But his physicians ignored his struggles and his oaths, and Lopez survived, though uncertainty over the diagnosis of the illness was to raise questions in his mind as to whether he had, in fact, been poisoned. To the French minister in Asuncion, Laurent-Cochelet, the news of the cholera outbreak was just one more cross for the Paraguayan people to bear, "for every plague seems to be launched against this unfortunate country."1 He spoke of witnessing "a real agony for the Paraguayan people."2 The forced contributions of clothing for soldiers, a scheme by which every family had to donate at least one shirt for the army, was beginning to cause hardship as this compulsory levy was repeated. Women were now obliged to work longer hours in the fields, only to see the food that they were cultivating go straight to the army. The price rises

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in essential goods seemed to add yet more riches to the coffers of the Lopez family while the poor were becoming even more destitute. The barrel was being scraped clean in terms of supplying new soldiers, and, in October the important functionaries of state, including port officials, doctors, and customs officers, were sent to Humaita to join the army. Even seven-year-olds were sent as ox drivers, and, in May 1867 lepers, too, were included. To cope with the shortages imposed by the blockade, the Paraguayans turned to their own resources. It seems, at first glance, extraordinary that they managed to keep going for five long years of war, sustaining not only the civilian population but also the men at the front, but in fact they were quite used to relying on themselves. Their position in the interior of the continent meant that trade was slight in any case, and during the years of Francia they had relied almost completely on what was locally available. Trade had picked up a little during the years of the elder Lopez, but in general the country was less disadvantaged by the blockade than might have been expected. They were further helped by the fact that the economy was a highly centralized one, being mainly state-owned and run by the Lopez family very much as a private concern. Therefore they were used to being told what to grow, in what quantities, and what prices to charge, and so they slipped back into the old routines without major fuss. Vice President Sanchez was in charge of production, and in July 1866 he issued decrees for every civilian, regardless of sex or age, to work in the fields. He organized family quotas of uniform production and set up a workshop in the National Theater for the weaving of shirts. He ordered more fruit trees to be planted and a concentration on manioc as a basis for bread. He also ordered more sheep to be raised on state farms for their wool. The price of maize was fixed, and the state limited how much could be bought by each person, and itself purchased crops to supply the army. There was some inflation, caused by the abolition of the law decreeing that a third of government payments should be paid in specie, and by the chaos caused following the arrest of the minister of finance in 1866, which resulted in paper money being indiscriminately printed, but this was offset by the melting down of gold and silver "donated" by citizens for the minting of coinage and by the situation in which Paraguay found itself, which meant that inflation, however bad, was pretty much irrelevant. Very limited trade with Bolivia continued throughout the war. The supply of rifles, ammunition, and other war material was efficiently maintained by the British-led foundries and arsenals, so that the Paraguayans were never seriously short on this front. In other areas, however, there were more serious implications. Drugs and medicines for the hospitals had quickly been exhausted, and efforts were made to replace them using natural herbs and plants, though Masterman's attempts to grow opium poppies were frustrated when his entire crop was eaten by cattle. The lack of salt was a particular problem, especially in the humid heat of the fighting arena, and the Paraguayans barely coped with it. Their few reserves were limited to the hospitals and Lopez's own table, and attempts to boil up the leaves of a plant found in the Chaco to produce

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a substitute were never really successful. Salt deficiency was fatal, and it accounted for the lives of countless Paraguayan soldiers, either directly or through gradual debility. The general lack of food was also an issue, not only because of the endless diet of meat, to which Paraguayans were unaccustomed, but because this, too, began to diminish, and daily rations dropped from one 80th of a steer per man to one 200th. There was little that the soldiers could do about this, except try to scavenge for themselves, for their pay was now so irregular that they had little means of supplementing their diet. In fact, Thompson mentioned that most soldiers were no longer paid at all but simply given occasional gratuities—perhaps only three during the whole course of the war. Officers were in a happier position, since they received more food in the first place, for, in a manner that belied the apparent egalitarianism of the Paraguayan army, officers were allowed double rations, with field officers given four times and generals eight times that of an ordinary soldier. There was also a shortage of cotton for uniforms, and the attempt to substitute it with a plant called caraguatd had only limited success, though some shirts and trousers were manufactured from it. Paraguay, which had been renowned for the quality of its cotton and which had exhibited it in Europe before the war, now had to abandon production altogether, as women were obliged to concentrate purely on agriculture. An alternative method of making trousers from cowhide was spectacularly unsuccessful, particularly when it dried and the garments tightened to insupportable degrees of constriction. In fact, although many of the officers, especiallv senior staff ones, were still well clad in the traditional scarlet of the army, by now most of the soldiers hardly had a uniform worth the name. Their leather shako, or kepi, was about the only military item left, apart from the cross belts worn over a generally bare torso. They had no boots, and most soldiers wore little more than a leather loincloth for modesty's sake. Paper, which was needed for military communication, was at a premium, and archives and libraries had to be ransacked for flyleaves and loose pages that could be torn out and reused. Parchment was made from sheepskin, and ink was obtained from one of the indigenous plants. This did not, however, prevent the publication of various newspapers, which were seen as important in raising the army's morale. Centurion was put in charge of one of these—Cabichui. whose name signified a particularly aggressive black bee. It was written and printed by the soldiers themselves, who also carved the drawings in wood with sharp knives. It had some information about the war but mainlv opinion, and was particularly inimical to the Brazilians—the macacos—who were the favorite target of Paraguayan scorn, as well as eulogizing Lopez and the heroes of the army. It was certainly a welcome change from the depressingly dull and worthy El Semanario. and it was at least aimed directly at the soldiers. Other newspapers. El Centinela and Cacique Eambare. followed the same pattern. Because of all these shortages, women started to assume a much greater significance, for if thev had not provided such essential backup, it was clear that

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the war could not go on for much longer. They were used to agricultural work, so that was not initially a problem, but with the vastly reduced workforce the amount of crops that could be planted dwindled, which meant that the women became weaker through hunger, resulting in still fewer crops the following year. As early as 1867, the production of foodstuffs was down by one third of the prewar level. Indeed, some of the more enthusiastic voices even called for women to be trained as soldiers and to bear arms on the battlefield, though Lopez refused to agree to this. Nevertheless, companies of women were formed, dressed in uniforms specially designed by Madam Lynch, who were drilled and trained in musketry by a local justice of peace and who spent most of their time parading around the streets of Asuncion apparently trying to raise their own, and their fellow citizens', morale. Laurent-Cochelet was somewhat doubtful about how voluntary, and indeed useful, these activities were, especially since the companies were limited to the elite of the capital, but there was no question that many of these women were eager to demonstrate their patriotism and love for their leader. Such support also included gifts, usually raised by forced subscriptions and often on the initiative of Madam Lynch. In 1866, government employees were forced to contribute to an album with solid gold covers, ornamented with precious stones and presented in a gold box with an equestrian statue of Lopez upon it. Along with this came a flag, embroidered with gold, diamonds, and rubies, on a silver flagstaff. Within the album, each of the society ladies of the capital had contributed a patriotic verse in honor of the fatherland and of the marshal. Women of all classes were also required to offer their jewelry to help with the war, and although Lopez would graciously accept only a 20th part of this, he nevertheless made sure that the names of the donors were recorded and that agents were sent around to extract contributions from those who had not yet volunteered. There was also a further tightening of security within the army. Lopez was well aware that his aims, and the spirit of patriotism, were not shared by all, and he was determined to prevent desertions and any form of gossip that could prove injurious to his position. Soldiers were formed into groups of four or five, and each was held responsible for the behavior of the others. If one of the group deserted, or showed cowardice, all of them would be punished. On top of this, he encouraged the revealing of confidences, and he rewarded such betrayals with money and also an automatic belief in what was reported. Spies—known as pyragues. or skinfeet—were everywhere, and their presence created an atmosphere of suspicion and fear, though it did mean that the desertion rate was kept to a minimum. Discipline within the Paraguayan army had always been harsh. Corporals were licensed to give 3 blows of the stick, sergeants 12, and officers an unlimited amount, although only Lopez could approve the death penalty. As time went on, his decisions became more random and more incomprehensible. One soldier

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found sleeping on duty was shot, the men on either side of him received 25 lashes, the corporal in charge of his section 40 lashes, the sergeant 50 lashes, and the officer was sent to Lopez to be either executed or reduced to the ranks. Lieutenant Ybanez was shot for daring to remark that the enemy seemed well dug in, and Private Candido Ayala for repeating the comment of an enemy soldier, shouted across the trench lines, that Lopez was "a pot-bellied old Indian."3 Another was executed for leaving the camp to visit his wife who had just given birth, and a lieutenant who refused to get up when he was woken suffered the same penalty. In theory these rigorous punishments were sanctioned by the Spanish Code, which was in force in the Paraguayan army, but more often than not it was the whim of Lopez that decided the fate of any miscreant. Families would also be affected if they were linked to soldiers who had deserted or who had dishonored their rank in any way. In April 1866, Lopez sought revenge against one deserter by arresting his three sisters, and when one prominent citizen, Recalde, passed over to the allied side, his father was forced to make a declaration against him in El Semanario prior to being arrested. Many of the families of such traitors were sent into internal exile, to be held in prison camps, and to be referred to by the demeaning term of destinada. Nor was it easy for relatives to find out exactly what was happening in the war and the fate of their loved ones, for Lopez forbade returning soldiers from giving any details of battles or of conditions in the army. In fact, no one in Asuncion seemed willing to speak of events until they had been mentioned in El Semanario, for only then did they become fit subjects for discussion, providing the correct conclusions were drawn. The United States minister, Washburn, who returned to Paraguay in late 1866 after a long wait, during which both the Allies and his own navy obstructed his passage, noted that the situation in the country had deteriorated significantly. As he landed at Curupaity, he found himself surrounded by Paraguayans who were convinced that he was bringing peace, and their evident desire for an end to hostilities surprised him. Drs. Skinner and Stewart, who came to talk with him at Humaita, confided that things were going badly and that Lopez had developed into a bloodthirsty tyrant. Lopez himself seemed pleased to see him but disappointed that he did not bring any firm news of United States support for his cause. The French minister, Laurent-Cochelet, was particularly gratified by Washburn's return, for the diplomatic community in Asuncion was now exceedingly small and he was pleased to have a friend on whom he might rely for mutual protection and with whom he might go duck shooting and "for rides along the roads, fragrant with citron trees."4 During the summer of 1866-1867, Washburn was invited to headquarters at Paso Pucu. He found Lopez optimistic and convinced that the present situation was better than it had been just after the invasion, when his army had been laid low by measles and he was forced to evacuate Paso de la Patria. He believed that the Brazilians could not afford a long war and was sure that, sooner or later, they would be forced to sue for peace. Stewart and Thompson, however, with whom

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he had several conversations, were less optimistic. Neither believed that they would leave the country alive, and Washburn was astonished by the obsequiousness and fear that they now seemed to demonstrate whenever Lopez was present. One of the most dispiriting incidents during these long months of inactivity, on the Paraguayan side, at least, was the death, in early 1867, of General Diaz. He had always had a special disdain for the bombardments of the allied artillery, especially those of the fleet, and so to spy out the positions of the squadron, and to demonstrate his contempt, he decided to go fishing in a small boat in full view of its guns. A single shot from one of them burst close to his canoe, flinging him into the water and tearing his leg almost in half. His Indian paddler, who was also his godson, rescued him and dragged him back to the shore. Skinner was sent directly to Curupaity to amputate Diaz's leg, which was then embalmed and kept in a box in the corner of his room. Diaz was lodged in the house of General Barrios and was visited daily by Madam Lynch and Lopez, the latter spending several hours with him, but to no avail. On 7 February he died, an event that had an enormously depressing effect, both on Lopez and on the whole camp. Centurion felt a real sense of "pathos and inertia"5 and wrote that Diaz's name had symbolized the whole army's enthusiasm and ardor for the cause. It was not just the Paraguayans who lost their leading general at this time, for in February 1867, Mitre was obliged to return to Argentina to sort out the internal problems that had begun to threaten the stability of his government. There had been uprisings in several of the provinces in January, and Vice President Paz was sufficiently worried to request Mitre's presence with several thousand of his front-line troops. The montonero, led by Colonel Felipe Varela, demanded, among other things, peace with Paraguay, and its possible success was seen as a serious threat to the allied war effort. Although on this occasion General Paunero was able to defeat the rebellion in April and Mitre was later to return to lead the army, Argentina's commitment to the war declined, and from then on there were seldom more than 5,000 of its troops involved. The montonero was an extreme example of the general discontent within the country over the war, which proved the most divisive issue of Mitre's presidency. The terms of the treaty, when they became known, were heavily criticized, even though they did appear to promise territorial gains, and few outside Buenos Aires could see the point of sacrificing so many lives for such apparently useless land. There were criticisms in the Congress, led especially by Manuel Quintero, who introduced a bill disapproving of the treaty, and this became a major issue of the 1868 presidential campaign, probably causing the defeat of Mitre's candidate, Elizalde. Sarmiento and Alsina, the eventual victors, were strongly against a continuation of the war, and it was not long before they began to withdraw Argentine troops. But there was good news for Brazil, at least from Mato Grosso, for on 13 June 1867 the province was effectively won back with the retaking of Corumba. This was a blow to Lopez, though more on the moral front, as it meant that now the war would be fought purely inside the boundaries of his country, and his propa-

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ganda would find it less easy to portray Paraguay as the winning side. For almost a year he hushed up news of the defeat, though when it did leak out, he started the rumor that his commander, Cabral, had sold the town to the Brazilians in exchange for the favors of a local beauty. In fact, there had been a modest war going on in Mato Grosso ever since the Paraguayan invasion, though due to the nature of the terrain and the rudimentary communications, it was only later that knowledge of it seeped out. A relief expedition to win back the province had begun as early as December 1865, when Colonel Galvao and 2,500 men marched toward Nioac. From the start the expedition had problems, caused mainly by fever and the swampy conditions that held up the march and drained the health of the men. Galvao himself soon died, and by the time the column reached Miranda in mid-1866, it had only 1,600 men left. It reached Nioac in January but found it deserted, and in April it crossed the Paraguayan frontier and attacked a local military camp. Unable to go any further, its new commander, Camisao, decided to return to Brazil, but in May he was ambushed by a Paraguayan force, which further reduced his numbers. A local guide, who claimed to know a shorter and better route, became lost, and the food ran out. Then cholera struck, killing hundreds in the column, including its leader. By June, when the survivors finally emerged from the jungle, only about 700 men were left. The expedition had been a total failure, but due to the suffering and bravery of its participants it became elevated into one of the most heroic sideshows of the war. Also, during this enforced hiatus, there were attempts to end the conflict. In March 1867, on the initiative of his government, Washburn traveled down to Humaita to propose mediation between the two sides. The new allied commander-in-chief, Marshal Caxias, indicated that he could pass through the lines and even provided an escort of a whole battalion, which infuriated Lopez, who thought it was a Brazilian trick either to better or to threaten him. Caxias listened politely to Washburn but indicated that the Allies did not want mediation and that he should not bother himself again. He reiterated the usual Brazilian position that there could never be peace with Lopez until he was removed from the country, and only then could discussions take place. His one concession was to promise that the president could leave the continent unmolested, and he even promised him a "golden bridge,"6 or financial inducement, to give up the war. Before he left, Washburn was given a document to hand over to Lopez. It was a detailed map of all the Paraguayan defenses, including gun positions and troop strengths, drawn up by the Polish engineer, Chodasziewicz, intended to frighten him with the extent of allied knowledge about his situation. Lopez seemed impressed by the diagram and also by the news that Osorio was arriving with reinforcements, for he clearly had great respect for the Brazilian general. In fact, Washburn received the firm impression that Lopez did not rate his own chances very highly and considered that if the Brazilians could stay in the war, then they would eventually win. He was disappointed that the United States had not intervened on the side of his country—a strange belief, which

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perhaps suggested his lack of understanding of the international situation. He strongly rejected any idea of a "golden bridge" and confirmed that he would not surrender and that the Paraguayans would fight to the bitter end. In short, he would rather die surrounded by the corpses of his entire nation than leave the country. Washburn was appalled by his arrogance and fatalism. He could not believe that the man could be such a fool and reckoned that he would negotiate sooner or later because he was a coward and would never fulfill his promise to die at the head of his men. Lopez had already indicated that he was interested in his historical reputation and that he wished to be considered in the same breath as Washington and Lincoln, so, adopting this tack, Washburn tried to convince him that he was famous enough already and even went so far as to flatter him by linking him with such figures as Napoleon, Garibaldi and Kossuth. Lopez accepted this without demur but did not alter his position. He kept repeating that he would be remembered by "my deeds, my deeds."7 Aware that he was getting nowhere, Washburn tried again with the Allies. He sent a note to Caxias, on the American gunboat, Wasp, which was currently visiting the war zone, pointing out that the condition that Lopez should leave the country was ridiculous, since the Paraguayans could equally adopt a similar posture and refuse to negotiate until Pedro II had left Brazil. Washburn was not a tactful man, and his point was not well received by Caxias, who accused him of acting in Lopez's interests and thereafter prevented any supplies, and even official dispatches and instructions from the United States government, from reaching him. On this occasion Lopez seemed to be more amenable than the Allies, and it was the Brazilians in particular, with their single-minded attitude, who had passed up another opportunity for peace. The offer of a "golden bridge," if seriously intended, showed their complete misunderstanding of Lopez's character—a shortcoming of which Washburn, too, was guilty. Whatever else could be attributed to him, lack of seriousness was not one of Lopez's failings. Washburn and the Allies might have done better to have taken at face value his musings about his place in history, for that would have given them a better indication of how to deal with him. Not that this mattered much anyway: the Brazilians did not really want peace at this time under any conditions. Washburn's attempt to end the war was backed up by joint representations made by the United States ministers, Watson Webb in Rio de Janeiro and Asboth in Buenos Aires. Both men proposed a conference in Washington between the warring parties, and if this failed to resolve anything, then an arbiter from a European country could be appointed to consider the various points of view. At any rate, they requested an immediate suspension of hostilities—a state of affairs that was already virtually the case. The initiative for this gesture had come from Webb, who attracted the interest of the secretary of state, Seward, by implying that if the United States did not offer mediation now, then Britain and France probably would. Seward presumably agreed with Webb's comment that it was

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the right of the United States to "interpose in all international conflicts on this continent,"8 and in December the House of Representatives allowed him to go ahead. Asboth, however, showed such enthusiasm in pushing the mediation on Elizalde that he had to be reprimanded by his own government. The Brazilians intimated that they would consult their allies, but they waited three months before deigning to reply to the proposal and then they rejected it. It was not until January 1868 that the United States tried again. Perhaps more significant were the reactions of fellow South American countries to the conflict. These were invariably sympathetic to Paraguay, although their activities did little to seriously upset the Allies. In June 1866, Peru, Chile, Bolivia, and Ecuador verbally offered their joint mediation to end the war, but Brazil refused to stop fighting "until its national honour had been avenged."9 The following month the Peruvians sent a written protest against the Triple Alliance, but none of the Allies made a proper reply, and they showed a similarly dismissive attitude to the Colombian protest in September. Elizalde contemptuously remarked that these countries were wrapped up in notes and papers and that there was nothing to fear from them, but even so Brazil was sufficiently alarmed by reports of Peruvian antagonism to send two gunboats up the Amazon to guard against a sudden attack. General Melgarejo, the president of Bolivia, also made a protest against the Triple Alliance, being particularly worried by the Argentine claim to the Chaco—a territory that his own country considered it had rights over. Brazil replied ambiguously that it would respect Bolivian rights though it still maintained the terms of the treaty, but, interestingly, it had already dispatched Octaviano to Buenos Aires in June to try to persuade the Argentines to drop their claims to all of this territory. In February 1867, Colonel Prado, the new president of Peru, spoke in his message to Congress about the justice of the Paraguayan cause, protested against the war, which he described as a scandal, and offered his mediation. Brazil limited itself to a complaint against the tone of the speech, but the following day the Peruvian foreign minister added fuel to the fire by telling the Congress that the Triple Alliance signified the disappearance of Paraguay as a nation. Brazil protested again and broke diplomatic relations, although these were later reestablished after a change of government in Peru. The most extraordinary episode involving a peace proposal, however, came, unofficially, from Britain. In August 1867, fearing for the safety of the British subjects in Paraguay, the Foreign Office sent a special representative, Gould, to plead for their return. Lopez, naturally enough, was reluctant to lose his English assistants, who had been invaluable to him in keeping the arsenal and hospitals in operation. He therefore installed Gould in a hut with very thin walls in the middle of the compound at Paso Pucii and invited any British subject to come and speak with him. It was perfectly clear that Lopez would never allow these men to leave, and so Gould was left for much of this frustrating time to his own devices. Perhaps out of a genuine desire to rescue something from his mission, or perhaps simply out of boredom, he scribbled on a rough piece of paper the terms

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of a possible peace agreement between Paraguay and the Allies, and before he left, he idly showed it to Lopez. They were significantly different from the terms of the Treaty of the Triple Alliance but not so far removed from the gist of the discussions between Washburn and Caxias. They suggested that Paraguay's independence and territorial integrity be recognized by the Allies; that all pending questions of frontiers be decided between the countries at a later date, or submitted to arbitration; that both sides withdraw from territory that was not their own; that prisoners of war be freed and no reparations be demanded; that Paraguay's armed forces be reduced to the number necessary only for the maintenance of internal peace, and that once the war was over Lopez would travel to Europe, leaving the government in the hands of his vice president. To his complete astonishment, Lopez accepted every single one of the terms, almost without discussion, and urged Gould to take his piece of paper and show it to Caxias on his way back. The latter was also sufficiently interested to promise to send the text to all the allied governments, and Mitre reckoned that although it did not yet signify peace, it at least contained the germ of it. Elizalde also showed a degree of optimism and considered that the Brazilians did too. He made some amendments to the proposals, notably a demand that Humaita be destroyed, for he hoped that one day the other side of the river from the fortress might be in Argentine hands. Gould returned to the Paraguayan lines in considerable hope but was immediately disappointed to learn that Lopez had changed his mind and could not accept the last article concerning his leaving the country. It is not clear what Lopez's motives were in this episode. He pointed to a communication from his war minister, Caminos, dated 13 August, which indicated that it was unconstitutional for him to leave in this way. Washburn and Centurion both believed that Lopez had received news from Argentina in the meantime that the government there was on the point of collapse due to internal rebellion, and he therefore thought that if he were prepared to wait, he could get peace on his own terms. This is perhaps the best explanation, for it seems unlikely that Lopez would initially have consented to the terms as a flippant gesture. The letter from Caminos was probably little more than a constitutional nicety to justify the change of heart, yet he may have been playing a more cunning game—trying to test the allied resolve or split their alliance—and he may have been attempting to win the sympathy of Britain for his cause. These were certainly the best terms that Lopez was offered throughout the war, both for himself and for his country, and it was an opportunity for him to leave his nation with some degree of pride and completeness and even ensure his own reputation, for he could at least have argued that this document was preferable to a treaty that would have robbed his country of thousands of square miles of territory. The explanation given suggests that he still thought that he could win the war—a belief inspired by the chaos in Argentina and the financial turmoil in Brazil, together with the effects of the allied defeat at Curupaity and the subsequent lack of any apparent desire by the Allies to continue with their advance. This belief was not totally illogical, and it was even shared by the

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British minister in Rio de Janeiro, but it was a mistaken one, for in fact the allied leaders were every bit as determined and resolved as he. And so the war dragged on, or rather did not, although there were signs that it soon might resume. For the Allies, the most encouraging event during these months was the appointment of Marshal Caxias as the Brazilian commander-inchief. Although 64 years old, he was one of the most popular and respected statesmen in his country and a proven military leader. He had been deliberately overlooked for political reasons, but with the coming to power of the Conservative faction in Rio de Janeiro, the way was open for him to take command. He took advantage of the favorable situation to demand the replacement of the then minister of war, for he was determined to have the support of those at home. His arrival had a palpable effect on the Brazilian army. He found its camp at Tuyuty in a mess. It seemed more like a bazaar than a military establishment, and he detected an air of boredom and lack of discipline that was very much against his ideals. His first duty was to raise morale, which he did by personal example—getting up at dawn and riding through the army in dress uniform, even in winter, to inspect the positions. He was formal but energetic, and the soldiers much preferred his new purposeful regime to the old days of slackness and torpor. He treated his generals with respect and formed a good relationship with Mitre, but those who failed to come up to his demanding standards were quickly made aware of it. A perusal of his Orders of the Day showed that no one was immune from his regime. The commander of the battalion in which a sentry was found without boots was arrested, as was a lieutenant for not being present when rations were distributed to the animals, as regulations demanded. Two surgeons who had allowed the sick in their care to be exposed to wind and rain during a particularly stormy night also found themselves on a charge. Caxias knew that such toughness would filter down and that the result would be a happier, and more effective, army. He took care of every detail. Improvements were made to the hospitals, ambulances, hygiene, food, uniforms, and shelter. He insisted that the camp be kept clean and brought in water-filtering apparatus to try to limit the spread of cholera. He provided alfalfa and meal for the horses, which up till then had been left very much to their own devices, and he laid a telegraph line between Tuyuty and Corrientes to speed up communications. He ordered more artillery and rewrote the tactical manuals in the light of the new conditions determined by the terrain. Officers who had proven their worth in battle or in the management of the army were promoted, irrespective of the amount of formal military training they had undergone, while those who had been ineffective were sent home. Wrhen, in July, the Brazilian army was ready to move, it had been transformed into a fighting force that would be capable of winning the war.

18 The Fall of Humaita: September 1867 to August 1868

By July 1867, everyone was ready for the war to resume. The Paraguayans, with some 20,000 soldiers under arms, were not strong enough to take the initiative themselves, but, growing steadily weaker as a result of disease and the effects of the blockade, they longed for the Allies to take some action and extend their lines to give them an opening in which to counterattack. The Allies, for their part, knew full well that if they were not prepared to listen to proposals of peace, the only way to win the war was to move the campaign forward and achieve the necessary victory. Mitre had resumed his position as overall commander-inchief, although the Argentine forces were now considerably reduced and the war was increasingly taking on the appearance of a Brazilian struggle. At this time it seemed possible that the Allies were going to launch a second front, for Osorio was marching from Brazil with an army of some 10,000 men, and it was thought by many observers that he would invade Paraguay at Encarnacion and march across the country toward the capital, thereby attacking Lopez in the rear. This scheme was considered but was rejected due to the difficulties of communication between the two armies and the unknown nature of the terrain that Osorio would have to cross. Mitre's plan was more or less the same one he had been advocating since the siege of Humaita had begun back in May 1866. He intended to send the bulk of his army—about 30,000 men under Caxias—around the left of the Paraguayan lines, toward Tuyu Cue, so that he could encircle Humaita and attack it from the rear. This operation would be combined with activity from the fleet, whose job it was to break through the river defenses at Curupaity and Humaita so that it could

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link with the land forces further up the river. A not inconsiderable reserve of some 10,000 men was to remain in Tuyuty to guard the rear. On the 22nd, Caxias began his march, laying a telegraph wire under the ground as he went, and by the end of the week he had reached Tuyu Cue, a small village, which he entered after a brief skirmish. The troops were for once in good order and well dressed, in a variety of new uniforms. Once they had crossed the Estero Bellaco, they found that the ground was firmer and the jungle and swamps gave way to more open land, so that the air was fresher and their spirits improved. By 1 August they had reached San Solano, a village on the far left of the Paraguayan lines from which point it was possible to go northwards to surround Humaita, or westwards straight toward the Paraguayan positions. Lopez was not displeased by the allied movement. Caxias's army had to be supplied from Tuyuty, and the journey, which ran through the estero and its surrounding swamps and undergrowth, was long and hazardous. The terrain was ideal for ambushes, and his newly created mobile force under Major Bernadino Caballero was given the task of disrupting the allied lines. On 11 August a detachment from this unit lay in wait for the supply carts deep in the bush and, attacking by surprise, killed the drivers, seized the goods, and scattered the escort. Even the arrival of allied reinforcements could not prevent the Paraguayans from securing their prize. Forewarned, the Allies strengthened their convoys, but this could not stop them falling into traps laid by the Paraguayans, who took full advantage of their knowledge of the terrain. On 24 September, an allied convoy came upon what seemed to be a small Paraguayan detachment at Paso del Ombu and pursued it into the estero. Too late they realized that they had been tricked and found themselves stuck in the swampy waters with several battalions of enemy soldiers pouring fire into them from all sides of the bush. Further allied troops were brought up, and a medium-sized battle took place, which, while it was ultimately inconclusive, caused much higher casualties on the Brazilian side. The supply trains were so intimidated by these ambushes that they changed to a longer and slower route further south, though even this proved to be within range of Caballero's mobile patrols. These skirmishes often involved several thousand men on each side and could almost be termed battles, though they were usually indecisive. On one occasion the Paraguayans succeeded in capturing a wagon filled with paper, a highly prized commodity for them. Unable to carry it all, they hid it in the undergrowth and, on successive nights, came out to bring back as much of it as possible. On 3 October, at Isla Tayf, Caballero was attacked by allied cavalry, and although he managed to put these to flight, reinforcements quickly arrived, which obliged him to retreat. On the 21st, Caxias laid an ambush for Caballero at Tatay Iba, and one regiment of cavalry attacked him while he was in a clearing watering his horses. The Paraguayans quickly mounted and pursued the attackers, who fell back. The

Operations around Humaita, 1866-1868

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Brazilians had up to 5,000 men concealed in the woods, and this time Caballero fell into the trap. The Paraguayans found themselves surrounded and unable to maneuver on the small patch of dry land. The Brazilian rifles and horses were far superior to their own, and they were forced to retreat, still fighting, for three miles, until they reached the safety of their own guns at Humaita. In this battle they lost over 500 men to the Brazilians' 150. Caballero, the new hero of the Paraguayan army after the death of Diaz, was promoted after each action and was soon a colonel. Although his raids rarely resulted in outright victories, they did cause some disruption to the allied army, though not enough to halt its advance. The effect on the Paraguayans was more mixed. They unquestionably raised morale, for after a year of waiting the soldiers were able at last to strike a blow against the enemy on more equal terms; however, they added to the slow attrition rate, which was gradually wearing down the army. Caballero, though, was fast becoming a legend, and Lopez saw the propaganda value of extolling his exploits. He seemed to fulfill the role, for he was a swashbuckling character, and no matter how close he was to the center of action, he seemed immune to allied bullets. Meanwhile, on 20 September, General Triunfo had made a daring attack on Villa del Pilar, a port some 20 miles upriver from Humaita. He had marched his men from San Solano, through enemy-held country, and taken the town by surprise. It was garrisoned mainly by recuperating soldiers who were unable to put up much resistance, and the Brazilians were quickly able to take control and begin sacking it. Shortly afterwards, the Paraguayan steamer, Pirabebe. was alerted to the enemy presence and arrived with reinforcements, who took the town back under cover of its guns. The Brazilians were forced to withdraw, but they had made the point that they were capable of striking deep into Paraguayan territory as and when they chose. While this activity was taking place on land, the squadron, too, had been persuaded to fulfill at least part of its obligations. Although Curupaity was now less well defended, for many of its guns had been withdrawn to Humaita, there were still almost 30 pieces that could severely disrupt Admiral Ignacio's progress upriver. The latter was as nervous as Tamandare though rather more diplomatic, and at least he was prepared to try to carry out the plan. Fie was unsure how well his monitors would cope with the enemy fire and was worried at the prospect of the torpedoes, which still floated under the water attached to empty demijohns, as well as the sunken barges. He could see that, ironically, the safest part of the river was the channel right next to the shore, for the guns were so placed that they could not fire downwards at the ships. This meant that the squadron could actually pass underneath them and hopefully emerge relatively unscathed. The passage was made on 15 August, and despite the ferocity of the Paraguayan resistance, the ships filed past and advanced up the river. Ignacio chose not to move on to Humaita but, instead, moored at Puerto Elisario on the Chaco side of the river in a bend that protected

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him from the guns of both forts but enabled him to fire on them. There he was to remain for many months. His caution was perhaps understandable, since the army had not yet reached the banks of the River Paraguay, and if he had managed to force his way past Humaita, he would then have been isolated from his supply lines. However, it was unfortunate in one way, for the Paraguayans now moved their guns from Curupaity up to Humaita, so that Ignacio was obliged to face most of them again. The plan to link up with the squadron was made more difficult by the nature of the terrain above Humaita, for northwards of the trench line, for a distance of about 12 miles, there was a large expanse of swampy ground known as Potrero Obella. This was unsuitable for stationing an army, and supplies could not easily be landed from the river. The nearest patch of firm ground, where such a union could be made, was the small village of Tayf, from where, in dry weather, a path ran along the coast to the main base. Both Lopez and Caxias were aware of the significance of this point, and both made moves to secure it first. Lopez ordered trenches to be dug at Obella, halfway along the track that skirted the eastern side of the potrero, which he fortified with 200 soldiers, and at Laureles, which was equidistant along the river path, where he put 600 men and 14 guns. General Joao Mena Barreto was sent by Caxias to take the first position, and on 28 October he stormed the Obella trench, which put him in a position to take Tayf. On 30 October, Mena Barreto sent a reconnaissance party toward Tayf along the coastal path, but on the way it came across two Paraguayan steamers that opened fire, forcing it back. The steamers were carrying Thompson, with 400 men and three guns, who had been ordered to fortify the position and hold up the allied advance. He began work on 1 November, building a defense along the small area of cliff that might serve the Allies as a landing place. The soldiers, under the command of Major Villamayor, whom Thompson described as "a very brave but stupid man,"1 knew that the enemy were marching toward them in considerable numbers, but they kept to their task. The following day the Allies attacked. The Paraguayans resisted desperately, some jumping over the cliff, where they either drowned in the river or lay on the beach, waiting to be shot. They lost nearly all their men, including Villamayor, and two of the steamers, Olimpo and 25 de Mayo, were sunk. Thompson only escaped because he happened to be on the remaining steamer at the time and was able to flee downstream to Humaita. The allied army had now fulfilled its part of the plan and had completed the encirclement by land of the Paraguayan defenses. All it needed was for the fleet to force its way past Humaita and join them. But it was not the squadron that moved next; it was Lopez. He had noticed that, with the allied army stretched out along the track between Tuyu Cue and Tayf, the main camp at Tuyuty was now relatively unguarded. His mind, as ever, was full of stratagems and ways to get back at the Allies, if not to push them off his territory altogether. When Thompson returned from Tayf, he was sent to

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make an accurate assessment of the allied defenses at Tuyuty and to observe their watchfulness and strength. He was pleased to note that they seemed to be complacent and not too strong in number. Lopez chose the time for his attack carefully. He had observed the routine of the supply trains that left for the main allied forces, and he reckoned that on 3 November one would have just departed with an escort, and therefore the camp would be less strong. He may also have known that two battalions had been sent to reinforce Tuyu Cue to protect these convoys against his cavalry attacks, and the reconnaissance had certainly informed him that some of the trenches were in a poor condition. The time seemed ripe for another surprise. His plan, as usual, was a simple one, with a limited aim, which he did his best to explain to his commanders. The attack would be on the allied right, through the island of Yataity Cora, and would be led by Barrios with 8,000 men, helped by Caballero. The Paraguayans would creep up by surprise, charge through the allied lines, sweeping through as far as Potrero Piris, capture as many guns as possible, and then return before the enemy had time to send up reinforcements. The aim was simply to hit the Allies at their base of communication and supply, which would force them to send back troops to reinforce Tuyuty and therefore slow down their flanking maneuver. Any guns that could be captured along the way would be a bonus, but the emphasis would be to surprise and shock the Allies rather than engage them in a pitched battle. To begin with, the plan worked well. The Paraguayans crept up the night before to within close range of the Argentine forward positions. Before dawn the next morning they glided so quietly past the sentries that barely a shot was fired. Since the distance between these positions and the first trench was short, they were able to fall on the latter with complete surprise, and with bayonets alone, so as not to wake the rest of the camp. They took the second line of trenches with equal ease, sending the Argentines and Brazilians fleeing back in disorder toward the main base, abandoning their guns. In less than 15 minutes the Paraguayans had effectively accomplished their task. However, things now started to go wrong, and once again one of Lopez's well-laid plans came to grief through the lack of discipline of his commanders and men. Instead of withdrawing, as they had been told, some units lost their heads and became crazed with a lust for battle and plunder. The sight of the enemy taking to their heels provoked them into disorganized pursuit, and soon their units broke up and junior commanders began to lose control of their men. For a time, the battle continued in their favor, and they were able to cause considerable casualties among the allied soldiers. Porto Alegre, who had recently returned to the front, took refuge in the central redoubt after two horses were killed beneath him, and some Paraguayans began trying to break in, while others rushed past and into the area where the traders' quarters were situated. The sudden nature of the attack caused pandemonium. Traders awoke, blearyeyed, and emerged from their shacks to see the allied soldiers tearing past them

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in panic and confusion and yelling that the Paraguayans were coming. They, too, took to their heels, abandoning their possessions and livelihoods and running frantically the few miles back to Paso de la Patria. Here more joined, and a swarm of people rushed to the port at Itapiru and frantically tried to commandeer boats to get them across the river to Argentina. Wily ferrymen offered to take some for enormous prices, and such was the panic that many accepted, and a great confusion and pushing occurred on the waterfront as men fought desperately for places on the boats. Back at the camp, confusion also reigned. In the stores, the hungry, destitute Paraguayan soldiers found unimaginable riches freely available for plunder. Clothes, food, drink, and all sorts of luxuries were there waiting to be picked up. Colonel Paranhos, in charge of the supply train en route to Tuyu Cue, heard the commotion behind him and saw flames lighting up the early morning sky. With his escort he dashed back to help the rest of the Allies, who, led by Porto Alegre, now tried a counterattack to throw the enemy out. Abruptly, the situation was transformed, and it was the Allies who were able to wade through the Paraguayans, killing and wounding almost at will. The half-starved Paraguayan soldiers wandered around, some completely drunk, some with their noses and heads inside bags of sugar and salt, and others gorging themselves on foodstuffs that they had been so long without. Many died still clutching their booty. Desperately their commanders tried to draw them together but to no avail, and the Allies were quickly able to restore control over their camp. Meanwhile, Caballero's cavalry had acted with greater control and discipline. They had taken the Brazilian trenches and begun removing both prisoners and guns back to Paraguayan lines. The countercharge by the Brazilians caused a fierce battle between the two cavalry units, which lasted for over an hour before the Paraguayans withdrew. They managed to drag 14 guns, including the Whitworth, back with them, though the latter sank into the mud on the way and had to be abandoned. On their return, Lopez angrily ordered Bruguez and two battalions to go straight back and get it, for possession of this advanced weapon was a considerable prize. When the Paraguayans arrived back where they had left the gun, they found some Brazilians already trying to extricate it from the mud and so had to fight them off before they could haul the weapon back to their own positions. Once again, the Paraguayans had snatched defeat from the jaws of victory. If they had followed Lopez's plan and retired immediately with the guns, then they could have seriously upset the hitherto triumphant march of the Allies around Humaita. In retrospect, if Lopez had been more ambitious, he might even have flung the Allies at Tuyuty right back to the river and thus cut off Caxias's army, but he could hardly have expected to have produced such disorder in the allied ranks. One has to have sympathy with the reaction of the Paraguayan soldiers who had seen little action for over a year and who had been almost starving during that time, but it was their indiscipline that had contributed to the rout.

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Barrios came in for criticism for his lack of overall control, as it was said that he had stood some way back from the battle where he was not able to get a proper grip of the situation. The fighting was over by 9 A.M. The Paraguayans had left over 2,000 dead and wounded on the battlefield, though they had accounted for about 1,500 of the Allies. They brought with them some 250 prisoners, 14 guns, and a variety of other objects such as umbrellas, cooking pots, shirts, telescopes, gold watches and coins, carts full of clothes, together with horses and mules. These at least enabled Lopez to proclaim the second Battle of Tuyuty a victory. A medal was struck for those who had taken part, and Barrios was promoted to full general, though he was not allowed to wear the corresponding uniform since he could not be seen to equal Lopez in rank. The prisoners were herded into a straw barn, officers and men together, much to Centurion's disgust. There they learned something of the privations that their enemies had been suffering, since the rations they received, although the same as any Paraguayan soldier's, were meager. One officer escaped, but three days later he was recaptured and under torture was obliged to confess that he was going to pass on information about Paraguayan positions to the Allies. He was executed, as were 40 others for good measure, while the rest were sent upriver to San Fernando. Madam Lynch took pity on some of them and gave them rum and biscuits. In part, Lopez's plan had not been without success, since for three and a half months the Allies made no further move against Humaita. Tuyuty was reinforced, and Mitre and Caxias seemed content simply to wait. There was some justification for this, since the capture of Tayf had meant that the river to the north could be controlled and a chain slung across it at this point ensured that no Paraguayan ships could come down to supply their army. The fort was therefore cut off as, curiously, was the Brazilian squadron, which, although in a relatively safe anchorage at Puerto Elisario, did not dare to move beyond Humaita. nor to retreat past the remaining guns at Curupaity. Lopez, however, refused to remain passive. He kept probing at the allied defenses, particularly with night-time expeditions that tested the nerve of their troops, and kept them permanently on alert. On 22 December, a small force took over and occupied Paso Benftez, south-east from the outer line of trenches, and on Christmas night 160 hand-picked Paraguayans, seminude and armed only with sabers, moved with great stealth through the undergrowth, wading through the waters of the estero to come upon Paso Poi just before dawn. They routed the sleepy Brazilians, including a squadron of cavalry that came in support, and, gathering equipment and weapons, they left just as Triunfo arrived with reinforcements. They fled on foot to Paso Benftez, while Triunfo assumed that they had taken the road to Humaita and chased after them, having to withdraw when he came upon the guns of the fort. This was a small action, of little direct military importance, but the glee with which it is related by Paraguayan historians is evidence of the huge impact of such expeditions on the army's morale.

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At about this time Lopez sent the amputees and cripples home from the army with generous pensions—100 pesos for those with families, and 25 for bachelors, although this would be subsequently raised to 100 if they were to marry. Officers would receive more, in proportion to their rank. Of course, he may simply have been trying to save on having the responsibility of feeding these men, but it seems more likely that this was a deliberate attempt to try to repopulate the country, for it was an unexpectedly generous measure and one of the few that actually looked to the future. More than anything, it gave a clue to the terrible effects that the war was having on the population. Now both sides took to doing what had hitherto been considered impossible: to build supply routes through the Chaco. This region was even more inhospitable than that on the near side of the river, for as well as the swamps and esteros and low-lying waterlogged conditions, it was also comprised of thick jungle, which could only be traversed with considerable effort. Nevertheless, both commanders realized that the effort had to be made. The Brazilians began by carving a road from Puerto Elisario down past Curupaity so that supplies could be safely brought up for the fleet, and Lopez, even more ambitiously, ordered a track to be made from Timbo, on the opposite shore from Humaita, as far as Monte Lindo to the north—a distance of some 54 miles. This was a considerable achievement, since much of it was through deep mud, over which felled tree trunks had to be placed, and across five large streams as well as the Bermejo, which was a fullsized river. This track now proved the lifeline for Humaita, and the nightmarish journey along it had to be made by men, cattle, and horses, which had then to be floated across the river either on rafts or in canoes, at considerable risk. Naturally, many drowned, but it gave Humaita a few more months of existence and further held up the advance of the Allies. The loss of so many men in the actions around Tuyuty and the success of the Allies in outflanking him made Lopez aware that the huge network of trenches that he had established could no longer be sustained. He therefore withdrew the bulk of his army to a line that stretched from Curupaity south-east to Laguna Lopez and then north-east along the ridge past Paso Pucu as far as Espinillo, and then up toward Humaita. He left only a token force to man the previous outer line from Sauce through Paso Gomez to the Angulo, and he moved the light guns back to his new trench line and the heavy ones all the way to the main fortress. He also built a redoubt, protected by trenches, at Cierva (Establecimiento), though its position gave it limited strategic value, and he moved his headquarters back to the relatively greater safety of Humaita. This was not so much a retreat as a retrenchment, and it still left him in a strong position. At least the Allies must have thought so, for they did little to trouble him throughout the summer of 1867-1868. Military activity appeared, once again, to have reached stasis, and while the Allies seemed happy to sit and do nothing. Lopez, of course, had little choice. Once again the artillery bombardments, which now involved the squadron as well, became the order of the dav. The church of San Carlos Borromeo at Humaita could easily be seen from the river.

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and it became a favorite target of the naval gunners, who succeeded in reducing it to little more than a shell. Otherwise they concentrated on the river defenses, particularly the Londres casemate, though this proved relatively immune to their ministrations. Lopez took particular pride and a certain degree of malice in showing off his new Whitworth, which had been captured at Tuyuty. He stationed it at Espinillo on the south-east corner of his line, within telescope view of his headquarters. According to Thompson, the gunners made huge signs with a single letter drawn on them, each denoting a particular target, such as the headquarters of Caxias or of Osorio, and before they fired, they held the boards up so that Lopez could then turn his attention to the target and enjoy the spectacle. Osorio's tent was a particular favorite, for Lopez was well aware of the morale value of scoring a hit on that. In fact the Allies tended to have the better of these duels, and Lopez's house, which was well within range of their artillery, was hit on several occasions. The biggest excitement for Lopez, however, occurred on 11 January, when he noticed that Argentine flags were at half mast and blank shells were being fired every half-hour throughout the day. When he saw the Argentines lined up in their dress uniforms to go to Mass, he was convinced that Mitre was dead. He ordered two Argentine sentries to be captured—a task at which the Paraguayans were particularly adept—and whipped until they admitted that it was true. At first the two men denied any knowledge, but they soon understood the situation and realized that it would be safer to say whatever Lopez wanted to hear. In the event, Lopez's joy turned sour when he found that it was only Vice President Paz who had passed away, and that his hated foe was still alive. Yet part of his wish was to come true, for on 31 January 1868, Bartolome Mitre returned again to Argentina, this time for good. Ostensibly he went home to replace Paz, but in truth the troubles in his country had not subsided, and he saw the maintenance of the system that he had created, which was shortly to be tested in presidential elections, as a greater priority. Besides, there was less need now for him to stay, for the Argentines were in a distinct minority in the alliance, and in Marshal Caxias he had a successor with energy and determination. Mitre has often been criticized for the slowness with which he prosecuted the war and the dubious nature of some of his military decisions, but he deserves much credit for the way he forged an alliance between Argentina and Brazil and how, politically and militarily, he carried them on in pursuit of the common goal. Now in sole command, Caxias vowed to continue the allied advance. Humaita was surrounded, but it was still strong, and he reckoned that it could not be taken until the squadron, or at least part of it, had forced its way past the defenses to link up with his troops. Admiral Ignacio was far from happy at the idea. He knew that the Paraguayan artillery there was the strongest that his ships had yet encountered, and he also believed that the channel was treacherous and filled with obstacles. During the passage his ships would come under sustained fire, with the probability of heavy casualties and losses of units.

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However, there were certain factors in his favor. The chain across the river, although some seven inches thick, was tied to three floating pontoons. By concentrating fire on these supports, he was able to sink them, so that the chain drooped down under the water, enough, hopefully, for the ships to sail over. He also noticed that, as at Curupaity, the guns were situated in such a way, and at such a height above the river, that by hugging the near shore he could sail his fleet almost underneath them. He was given further confidence by the arrival of three more monitors. These had already proved their worth as river ships, since they had a shallow draught of under 5 feet and were protected by iron plates up to 6 inches thick, as well as by 18 inches of wood. They were so low in the water that only their oval turrets could be seen, making them a difficult target to hit. Only steel-tipped shot could hope to penetrate this armor, and Lopez had little of it. A further inducement to Ignacio was that Caxias promised to launch a bombardment along the entire allied line, together with diversionary attacks to the north-east of Humaita, to keep the Paraguayan defenders well spread out. Just after midnight on 19 February, six ships of the allied squadron quietly slipped anchor and moved upstream. Their movement was accompanied by a ferocious artillery bombardment from every available allied gun, from the remaining ships of the squadron at Puerto Elisario, through the few vessels which had slipped into Laguna Piris, and right the way around with the land guns firing as far away as San Solano. The 3rd Naval Division, which was making the breakthrough, consisted of three ironclads, each towing a monitor. The Barroso went first, leading the Rio Grande, followed by the Bahia towing the Alagoas and, bringing up the rear and still in single file, the Tamandare with the Para. Shortly after 3 A.M., the Paraguayans heard, through the crash of the allied guns, the sounds of ships approaching their positions. Every Paraguayan gun on the river opened up, and, with the element of surprise gone, the squadron replied with all the firepower at its disposal. In this one place alone, perhaps 150 guns were firing at the same time, and throughout the 40 minutes that it took for the squadron to sail past Humaita, the din was tremendous. In the midst of this frenzy, the monitor, Alagoas, somehow broke free from its supporting ironclad and began drifting helplessly downstream. There were moments of panic as the crew put on power and tried desperately to stay in touch with the rest of the line. Fortunately for them, they were able to catch up, and a short time later the squadron, intact again, sailed around the bend and out of sight and range of the Paraguayan guns. Every ship had been struck, most of them many times, and their hulls and decks were pitted with dents from direct hits, but none of the shells had penetrated. The crews had remained mostly below decks, and although the experience had been terrifying, they had come through it virtually unscathed. It is perhaps time to be fair to the squadron, since it has come under so much criticism for its reluctance to take on the Paraguayan river defenses. The ferocity of the attack to which it was subjected made it clear that, without iron protection, it would have been virtually impossible for boats to have passed Humaita, and

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thus Ignacio was probably right to have delayed until his extra ironclads and monitors arrived. The task they were being asked to do, although simple in design, was far from easy in its execution. Ignacio was taking a risk with the torpedoes and the chain, and he was praying that none of his vessels was put out of action or suffered a breakdown, blocking the passage of the others and making them all sitting targets. The river did not allow for much maneuverability, for it was only 700 yards across at this point and some of that width was taken up with islands. For obvious reasons, Ignacio's ability to reconnoiter, apart from visually from the Chaco shore, was extremely limited. The passing of Humaita was, in retrospect, one of the most significant actions of the war. The fort had been rightly judged the major Paraguayan stronghold, and its river defenses had always been regarded as controlling and protecting the route to Asuncion. It had served not only this practical purpose but also a considerable moral one, and by breaking through its defenses, the Allies could be said to have turned the tide of the war in their favor. Yet this was not so obvious at the time, for in the immediate aftermath it meant that while the path to Asuncion was now open, the naval division that had broken through was effectively cut off, in terms both of communication and of military support, from the rest of the fleet. For Asuncion to be taken by river, more ships, including transports, had to break through Humaita, and that did not appear possible at the time. Once past, the squadron continued steaming upriver, looking for two Paraguayan warships, the Tacuary and the Ygurey, which, it knew, were in the area. Failing to find these, for they were at the time in the Arroyo Hondo helping in the evacuation of their troops from the Cierva redoubt, the squadron kept going, passing on the eastern side of the river the fort of Laureles, which had been hastily evacuated by its Paraguayan defenders, who realized how vulnerable they now were to the guns of the squadron. By 7 A.M. they came under unexpectedly heavy fire from the Paraguayan trenches at Timbo. This caused further damage to the Brazilian ships, but nothing as serious as they had experienced downstream, and, after shelling the Paraguayan positions, they moved up to a safer anchorage near Tayf. At the same time as the fleet was in action, the Brazilians launched a successful attack against the Cierva redoubt. This outpost, known to the Allies as Establecimiento, was defended by Major Olabarrieta, who had led the heroic cavalry maneuver at Tuyuty, with about 1,600 men and nine guns. The attack was at night, and Cerqueira, who took part, wrote expressively of the chaos that surrounded it. His battalion had been dispatched from the Chaco and for the previous day and most of the night had continued marching with virtually no rest. It seemed almost out of the blue that they were halted at about 2 A.M. and ordered to attack the earthworks surrounding the fort. He seems to have had little idea of what he was doing and, along with others, was frustrated by the fact that the new Belgian needle-guns, with which many Brazilians had just been issued, quickly jammed or failed to work at all. This meant that when they finally captured the fort, after three charges and helped by a Paraguayan deserter, who

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showed them an easy way through the defenses, it was by the bayonet rather than the bullet. Olabarrieta, and many of his men, were able to escape in the Tacuary and the Ygurey, which were waiting close by, and managed to make it back to Humaita. They had lost about 200 men; the Allies, however, had sacrificed three times that number, though they had now won a forward position, which further tightened the noose around Lopez's main base. The reaction from the Paraguayan side, however, must have been highly gratifying to Caxias, for Lopez saw these reverses as a major disaster. In fact, that same day he sent Madam Lynch back to Asuncion to take care of their personal valuables and instructed his vice president, Sanchez, to evacuate the capital and move the seat of government to Luque, some nine miles inland. This was not to be regarded as a voluntary move, and everyone—government officials, foreigners, citizens—was forced to leave their home on pain of death. The treasury, archives, and government ministries were transferred, and stragglers were rounded up by the police. The evacuation took place in torrential rain, and the pathetic lines of refugees, carrying the few belongings that they had managed to muster, trudged with difficulty along the muddy tracks. Already weak from hunger, many succumbed along the way. Only Washburn, the United States minister, was determined to stay, and during this time a stream of visitors arrived at his house, carrying boxes and trunks full of valuables and papers for him to look after. There was also a series of semiofficial, high-level meetings in and around Asuncion during these critical days. The official agenda was what the reaction should be if the Brazilian ironclads appeared outside the capital. Unofficially, there were almost certainly discussions involving the possible deposition of Lopez and the surrender of Asuncion to the Allies. The subject of these debates was to become part of the highly controversial conspiracy against Lopez, and so separating fact from fiction is even more difficult than normal. It appears that Colonel Francisco Fernandez, the military governor of Asuncion, was the first to suggest not firing at the Brazilians, ostensibly due to a lack of ammunition. Several others, including Benigno Lopez, the president's brother, and Foreign Minister Benitez, agreed, but Vice President Sanchez berated them, saying that it was their duty to fight. Venancio Lopez then proposed another meeting, though eventually it was decided that the military garrison should wait until the Brazilians fired first and only then retaliate. Venancio's meeting seems to have taken place in his mother's house outside the capital, and it was here that more drastic measures may have been decided. At anv rate, the arrival of the allied squadron was anticipated with unwonted enthusiasm by almost all those few who remained in Asuncion, for it was hoped that this would mean an end to the war and a rescue for Paraguay from Lopez's tyranny. Indeed, those who had defied his order to evacuate the capital had almost staked their lives on rescue bv the Allies. They were to be sorely disappointed. The three ironclads steamed upriver on the 21st and reached Asuncion early the following day. The town was defended by the heavy gun, nicknamed "Criollo," and a few hundred men, who put up

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almost no resistance. The ironclads anchored in the bay and began shelling the capital in a somewhat desultory fashion, hitting Lopez's palace and starting a few small fires. Then, either bored by the lack of reaction from the enemy or alarmed by how unexpectedly adventurous they had been, they weighed anchor and, to the enormous dismay of those watching, sailed back downstream, with only a few shots coming after them from the San Geronimo fort. Such was the atmosphere of defeatism in Asuncion that it is probably not an exaggeration to suggest that if they had landed a few soldiers, they could have accepted the surrender of the capital and perhaps even the formal deposition of the Paraguayan dictator. Lopez, however, was made of sterner stuff. He was horrified to hear what had gone on in the capital, and he wrote an angry note to Sanchez, criticizing him for the negative, if not treasonable, nature of the discussions. Sanchez, evidently in fear of his life, wrote a long and groveling reply, which seemed to temporarily appease his master. Yet Lopez now knew that Humaita was effectively lost and that the victory of the allied fleet meant that he would have to find a new position further north to prevent any repetition of these incidents. He dispatched Thompson along the Chaco track as far as the River Tebicuary to reconnoiter a position where he could hold up the Allies. In the meantime, he ordered Monte Lindo to be fortified with guns to create problems for the squadron moving along the river. He also indulged himself in one of his spectacular little schemes to try to turn the tide of the war in his favor. He was aware that seven ironclads still remained near Puerto Elisario; he judged that these would not be on a high state of alert, and he considered that they would be relatively easy to attack and capture. He had no way of moving his residual ships down to take part in a proper naval engagement, and so instead he decided to rely on stealth and surprise. He called on four of his best captains—Cespedes, Genes, Bernal, and Vera— and ordered them to select 200 of the best swimmers in the army who could swim downriver, board the ironclads, take them over, and then bring them back. He soon discovered that the current was too strong to allow the men to swim, and so canoes were chosen for the attack instead. On 1 March, in the darkness, the expedition set off, but this first attempt was a disaster. The complement of one of the canoes, seeing another in the darkness and mistaking it for Brazilians, promptly jumped into the water and swam for the shore, while another was caught in a whirlpool, which again resulted in the crew ending up in the river. The following night the Paraguayans tried again. This time the canoes were tied together in pairs, with the idea that they should drift either side of an enemy vessel and that the rope that bound them would catch against the bow, pulling the canoes against the sides. The men crouched down in the bottom, holding up branches and vegetation so that they would look like the floating islands that were a common feature of the stream. This time they got closer to the Brazilian ships without capsizing, but the guard launch, which was always ahead of the main squadron to keep a lookout for torpedoes, became suspicious of so much

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flotsam and soon discovered that it was full of Paraguayans. The launch turned back to the fleet at full steam, its crew yelling out warnings, but not before the groups of Genes and Cespedes had reached the Lima Barros and Cabral, which they started to board. Initially, the attackers had some success. They managed to scale the two ships, killing the captain of the Lima Barros and forcing the crews of both vessels to take refuge on the bridge and below decks. This caused a problem, for rather than fight the Paraguayans on deck, the Brazilians simply locked themselves in and shot at them from any opening they could find, and thus the attackers could do little more than run up and down, shouting imprecations and throwing grenades, which did little or no harm to boats or crew. The two other canoe groups had missed their targets and drifted helplessly downstream, to be picked up later by the Brazilians, and so Genes and Cespedes were left exposed and isolated. As it became lighter, other Brazilian vessels moved up in support and were able, with musket fire and grapeshot, to clear the decks of Paraguayans. Those who were not cut down in this withering blast jumped into the river and attempted to swim to shore. Genes lost an eye and almost drowned in the water, but he was saved at considerable risk by a burly Negro soldier from his own regiment. The Paraguayans lost over 150 men out of the 200 who had set off, but they had caused over 70 casualties among the Brazilians, whose morale was not improved by the incident. It evidently did not do much for Lopez's morale either, for the following day, with Madam Lynch and his children and a small group of generals and aides, he decided to abandon Humaita. He crossed the River Paraguay, with some difficulty since it was in flood, and began the strenuous journey along the Chaco road northwards toward the River Tebicuary. Thompson traveled with him and noticed that Lopez always went in front and seemed completely unconcerned by how anyone else was faring, including his mistress. He was one of the few on a fit horse and therefore made faster progress than the others. The road was then in a poor condition, for the bridges over the streams were not finished and they were little more than beams laid in the water with brushwood and sods of earth piled over them, which caused the horses to stumble and throw the riders, much to the amusement of the soldiers who were escorting them. The River Bermejo— swollen and red with mud—had to be crossed in canoes, with the horses swimming alongside. In one place there was no bridge over the stream, and while Lopez slept, his troops worked all night to build one. When it was done, he decided to cross in the carriage pulled by the men. He seemed unworried by this, as indeed did the soldiers. When it was time for them to pull the guns across, he joked with them, chaffing them as to whether they could do it, and they seemed delighted by his attention. At one point, when close to the river, they saw a Brazilian ironclad steaming by and had to hide quickly in the bush to avoid being spotted. At the mouth of the River Tebicuary there was a small, low-lying island called Fortfn, close to the Chaco bank and protected at its rear by marshes. It was

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covered in thick grass, some six feet tall, and Thompson set up a battery here to guard the entrance to both rivers. He was given a battalion of 300 men to help protect the guns, and shortly after the work was finished four Brazilian ships came up and bombarded them all night, though they caused little damage. This became a regular occurrence, and Thompson, on his exposed site, was frequently under fire from the squadron, though he put up enough resistance to dissuade the Brazilians from entering the Tebicuary. Lopez established his headquarters further along this river at San Fernando. As always, the Paraguayans quickly made themselves at home, and within a few days a small village of shacks, including a little octagonal church, and a headquarters for Lopez, had been built. The site was linked by telegraph to Asuncion, and a small workshop was set up for the repair of rifles and manufacture of ammunition—cartridge cases now having to be made from the tanned inner membrane of cowhide. Two steamers, which helped in the ferrying of supplies, were tied up close by, disguised with branches so that they blended in with the surrounding trees. Trenches were dug to protect the position, and, although at first the ground was a morass, as the weather became drier and the river subsided, the earth grew firmer and more suitable for the large numbers of troops that began to arrive from Humaita along the Chaco road. Some observers noted that Lopez became more moody at this time and wondered whether the president was thinking of fleeing the country, perhaps via the "golden bridge" offered by Caxias or perhaps to Bolivia, whose leader had shown some sympathy toward his cause. His military defeats at Humaita had been a considerable reverse, but worse still was the evident lack of resolve and support for his cause that had been shown by the reactions in Asuncion to the arrival of the ironclads. Yet Lopez was not a quitter, and now, as later, he showed a strength of purpose that was to bring further feats of heroism, in the midst of suffering, from his people. And it was against his people that Lopez now directed his attention. The rumors from the capital had convinced him that his own position was insecure, and he reacted with venom. He saw the main threat as coming from those who were closest to him, particularly his immediate family, his generals, and even the diplomatic community. The conspiracy trials that took place over the coming year and accounted for the lives of hundreds among the leading people in the country—most of whom were unjustly accused, brutally tortured, and arbitrarily sentenced—left a huge stain on his reputation and did little to help the war effort. San Fernando became a place of fear and infamy in which the Paraguayans, assailed as they were from without, turned in on themselves in a macabre orgy of self-destruction. Meanwhile, it was the Allies who made the next move. On 28 March. Caxias decided that the Paraguayan outer defenses around Humaita were sufficiently weak for him to attempt a landing north of Curupaity. To distract his enemy, he arranged for attacks to take place around the perimeter of the base. Argolo was to assault the trenches at Sauce, Osorio mount an attack at Espinillo on the far left of the Paraguayan line, and the Argentines under Gelly to make a demonstration

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opposite the Angulo. In the event, Paraguayan resistance proved greater than predicted, and, although their defenses at Sauce were overrun and they were forced back to Paso Pucu, they were able to prevent Osorio from making any inroads in the eastern sector. Nevertheless, it was clear to Lopez that he would have to evacuate Humaita. As a first step he abandoned the outer defenses of the quadrilateral and withdrew his men into the inner line. Paso Pucu, the Angulo, and Espinillo were sacrificed, and he sent a trusted officer, Colonel Martinez, to bolster the resolve of Humaita's commander, Colonel Alen, whom he suspected of weakness, if not treachery. This allowed the Allies to move up—the Brazilians to Curupaity and to Pare Cue on the opposite side of the fort, with the Argentines in the center at Paso Pucu. They dug in solidly along these lines, linking their positions with the telegraph, for they were well aware of Lopez's capacity for launching surprise attacks. Lopez had been moving men back along the Chaco road ever since the Allies had first broken past Humaita, and now he ordered that, by degrees, the bulk of the army was to be withdrawn. The soldiers made the river crossing mainly in canoes or rafts, some constructed from the remains of the wooden roof of the church, and were helped considerably by the steamers, Tacuary and Ygurey, which ferried men and supplies to Timbo. However, disaster struck when, on 22 March, Brazilian ships sailed up and opened fire on these two vessels, both of which were lost, either sunk by the enemy or scuttled by their own side. The Paraguayans' escape route was now severely threatened. Once across to the Chaco, the men had to face the dreadful journey through knee-deep mud, dragging weapons, including heavy guns, supply carts, and equipment. Centurion had to pass along this route as an aide to General Barrios, and, softened by months of inactivity, he found himself unused to the exhausting conditions. They had to cross by canoe at midnight, in sight of a Brazilian ironclad, which shelled them during the passage. The mule carrying the cases of papers belonging to the secretariat became stuck in the glutinous mud and had to be pulled out, and Centurion lost his boots and was forced to walk barefoot, cutting his feet on the thorny branches of the tacuara tree and having to remember that he was a soldier and so could not cry out. On the second day he grew tired and steadily fell behind the others. He began to panic when he became lost in the darkness, among the croaking of the frogs and the chirping of the crickets and the sad, lugubrious songs of the birds. Luckily for him, he found a spare horse beside the road and was able to catch up before the others reached San Fernando. Once they realized what was going on, the Allies were determined to cut the route through the Chaco and totally encircle Humaita. On 2 May, a strong force of some 2,500 Brazilians sailed up to make a landing near Yuasy-y. They were opposed by firing from the riverbank and decided to attack the Paraguayans there and then. Cerqueira was on board the Tamandare when it came under attack, and he and his battalion landed quickly and charged the enemy detachment, forcing it to flee. The Paraguayans quickly brought up reinforcements and laid down heavy fire on the Brazilians, pushing them back toward the river.

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For a time it looked as though the Paraguayans would win, and even the arrival of General Rivas with Argentine reinforcements was not enough, for they ran in panic when charged by the enemy. However, as the Allies brought up still more men, the defenders, realizing that they were surrounded, retreated back along the track to Timbo. The Brazilians promptly set to work building a fort across the road at Andai. This fort was designed so that the Brazilian trenches faced toward Timbo and the Argentine ones toward Humaita. They were given barely a day to make a start on the defenses before Caballero sent a strong force to destroy them. It was easy to creep up unseen, since the fort was surrounded by trees, and the Paraguayans were able to lay down fire on the defenders before making an assault. On this occasion the Allies were saved by some ironclads that shelled the attackers from the river and forced them to withdraw. The result was that the Allies now controlled the road, and the Paraguayans had to find an alternative route for the evacuation of Humaita. Not content with harassing the Paraguayans in the Chaco, the Allies now moved to tackle Lopez's base on the River Tebicuary. On 8 June, Triunfo, with a heavy force of cavalry, advanced as far as the River Yacare, where his vanguard was seen off after a fierce fight by a smaller Paraguayan unit. Meanwhile, on 16 July, Caxias attempted to break through the defenses on the right at Humaita. He sent Osorio to attack the trenches near Pare Cue while demonstrations were made against the rest of the Paraguayan lines. Osorio came up against Colonel Hermosa and 46 guns, who proved more than a match for him. The Brazilians tried three frontal charges, all without effect, though after a few hours the defenders were out of artillery shells and forced to fire canister shot consisting of bullets, old pieces of shell casing, bayonets, stones, and anything else that came to hand. However unorthodox, the Paraguayan resistance was effective, and the Allies withdrew to wait for a better opportunity. The precarious position of his defenders at Humaita convinced Lopez of the need for another spectacular action. He again planned the capture of a Brazilian warship, which he could use to protect the evacuation. This time, he aimed his attack at the Tayf flotilla. After his previous efforts, he had created a small core of volunteers called bogabantes. or canoe paddlers. and in the evening of 9 July, he sent 24 canoes, each filled with ten of these men. as well as engineers who. he hoped, would crew the captured boats, in two divisions. His targets were the Barroso and the Rio Grande. The division heading for the former missed its target and had to beach its canoes, but those going for the monitor succeeded in boarding it and killing the captain and some of the crew. Once again the Brazilians shut themselves up in the safety of their vessel, and the Paraguayans were quite unable to penetrate the steel doors. The Barroso steamed up close and was able to kill or capture almost all the Paraguayans on the decks. Centurion bleakly described the venture as yet another sterile sacrifice. To help secure the route through the Chaco and to harass the allied fort, the Paraguayans set up a redoubt at Cora, midway between Timbo and Andai. from where it was possible to shell the latter. On 18 July, Caballero tried to entice the

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Allies into an ambush. An Argentine colonel, Martinez de Hoz, led a force from both armies to make a reconnaissance of the Cora redoubt and, leaving the main body at a point along the track where two bridges crossed over a stream, he went on ahead with a small group to scout the position. Unknown to him, Caballero had 400 dismounted cavalry hidden in the bush on either side of the track. A small patrol was sent forward to fire some shots, to draw the Allies into the trap. The plan worked well. Cerqueira was one of the advance guard who chased after the Paraguayans and suddenly found himself in a clearing, under fire from the redoubt at the end and from either side by Caballero's men. He lay there, feeling highly exposed, waiting for reinforcements, which fortunately soon came up. Martinez de Hoz gave the order to attack; Cerqueira reckoned that this was highly unwise, but he did it, with disastrous consequences. Met by intense fire from the redoubt, the Brazilians panicked and fled, charging down the track and ignoring the officers who tried to stop them. The Paraguayans chased them back to the bridges, where the waiting troops were seized with panic and joined in the flight, almost as far as Andai, stopping only when General Rivas came up and forced them back. The Allies lost 400 men, including Martfnez de Hoz, and the Paraguayans 120. Caballero was promoted to brigadier, and Lopez made much of the victory, which he referred to as the Battle of Acayuaza. Back in Humaita, the commander, Colonel Alen, had chosen this moment to attempt suicide. He shot himself twice in the head, but neither wound proved fatal, and he survived to be evacuated to San Fernando and, subsequently, to be executed by Lopez. Masterman saw him there, though the man he remembered as a big, hearty, decent fellow was now reduced to "the most deplorable object I had ever seen in human shape."2 Meanwhile, three more Brazilian ships passed by the fort and sailed on upstream. On the night of 24 July, Humaita was finally evacuated. Approximately 3,000 men and 300 women were ferried across the river in 17 canoes. There was an attempt to disguise the passage: military bands played in the fort, logs designed to look like cannon were left, and there was occasional shellfire. The Paraguayans tried to destroy some of their guns, by either spiking them or throwing them into the river, for it was obvious that they were unable to take any more with them, but when the Allies entered the following day, they found that 60 of the 180 guns could still be used against their former owners. For the evacuees, the ordeal had only just begun. The track through the Chaco was now overseen by the allied fort at Andai, and therefore the only way through was to paddle across the Laguna Vera. Aware of this, General Rivas had moved up more men, together with chatas and canoes of his own, to force the Paraguayans to surrender. Marooned on the Isla Poi, on the Chaco side of the river, and surrounded by enemy forces, Colonel Martfnez had to move his 3,000 men in a handful of canoes across the lagoon to safety, with only the help of some artillery at the Cora redoubt. As they could only move at night, they had to paddle as silently as possible, usually without any light to guide them, and all the time under fire from the Allies on land and on water. It was a terrifying ordeal. The guides made journey

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after journey in canoes that were packed with men and women and which could easily be overturned by panic or from ramming by the enemy chatas that loomed out of the dark. Pinpricks of light from the guns of the allied soldiers were one of their few navigational aids. At times the enemy boats came alongside, and desperate close-quarter fighting with bayonets and sabers and knives and fists took place. For a whole week, the craft made repeated crossings; by the end, some 1,000 men had survived to fight another day. In the meantime, on the shore at Isla Poi, Colonel Martinez and his remaining troops were surrounded by three times as many enemy soldiers. Their food quickly ran out, and to survive, he and his men were forced to eat horses, berries, and leaves, and even gun oil. The Argentines made repeated charges on his position, and, after his guns ran out of ammunition, he broke up the rifles of the dead and fired them from the barrels instead. On 2, 3, and 4 August, Rivas sent delegations calling on Martinez to surrender. The latter was aware that the longer he held out, the more soldiers could be evacuated across the lagoon and be used to help in the later defense of his country, and so it was not until the 5th, when his position was completely hopeless, that he finally gave in. He was so weak with hunger and exhaustion that he could barely speak to his captors. Far from treating his heroic stand with the respect it deserved, Lopez derided him as a traitor and, not being able to get his hands on him, arrested his wife instead. The taking of Humaita was a big step forward for the Allies. It had been Lopez's major base and the center of the defense of his country, and they might have expected that from now on progress would be easier, for Lopez had lost most of his artillery and thousands of his best troops. The Allies now controlled the river, and it seemed clear that it would only be a short time before he was forced to face reality and end the war. Lopez at least decided to abandon his position at San Fernando. He had already had a nasty scare on 24 July, when three ironclads had forced their way past the Isla Fortin and steamed up the River Tebicuary to bombard his headquarters. Then, at the end of August, Caxias led the bulk of the allied army up from Humaita, past Timbo, which Lopez had already evacuated, and toward his positions. Between the rivers Yacare and Tebicuary, the Paraguayans had built a fortified position, which blocked the road north. On 26 August, Colonel Niederauer attacked the trench, which was defended by about 200 cavalry under Captain Bado. Initially, the Brazilians were unable to pass, but two days later they tried again and this time routed the enemy, whose commander died after contemptuously refusing medical treatment for his wounds. When the Allies entered San Fernando on 1 September, they found only the corpses of some 350 executed Paraguayans, including that of General Bruguez, who had allegedly been involved in the conspiracy against Lopez. So suddenly had the marshal left that the commander of one of his outposts reported for duty as normal, only to find that the camp was now full of the enemy. He had gone north toward Villeta, to the area along the Piquisiri River that Thompson had been sent to reconnoiter and had recommended as a place where the allied

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advance could be held up. All along the route he ordered houses to be burnt and any livestock driven forward to deny them to the enemy. No one was allowed to remain in the region, apart from various units in positions from which they could ambush the Allies. The Piquisiri was little more than a stream, and it was not possible for allied ships to pass along it. At its mouth, at Angostura, Thompson set up a battery that could harass the squadron moving up and down the river. He was fortunate to be given time by Caxias to make his emplacements in peace, as the Brazilian ships were held back for several days. He had been forced to leave Isla Fortin in a hurry and had had to abandon some of his guns, which he had thrown in the river, but he still had enough to make Angostura a significant obstacle, and the arrival of the "Criollo" from Asuncion further added to his strength. The allied advance continued apace, and by 23 September it reached the Surubi-y stream, less than ten miles from the Piquisiri. Here Niederauer's forward cavalry found another Paraguayan position, at Paso Laguna, which he promptly attacked. The Paraguayans were drawn up in front of a bridge, which provided the only possible crossing of the torrent, but the Brazilian charge carried them over and in pursuit of the fleeing enemy on the other side. At this point they fell into an ambush and were forced back toward the river, but they became entangled with another of their battalions that was marching across. The leading 5th Battalion turned and fled, pushing against their comrades to the rear, and many fell victim to the deadly thrusts of the enemy lancers. For a time it looked as if the Paraguayans had successfully defended their position, until the greater numbers of advancing Brazilians won the day. Casualties were heavy, with nearly 300 of the Allies and 130 Paraguayans dead and wounded. Caxias was unimpressed with the battalion that had fled, and he promptly dissolved it, though not before it had gained itself the nickname "the runner."3 The Battle of the Surubi-y and the preceding skirmishes along the line of the allied advance should have made one thing clear to Lopez: that as long as the political will of the Brazilians held, he was going to lose the war. No one disputed that the Paraguayans had fought with courage, but in every case their bravery was little more than futile sacrifice, for it was bound to failure and it held up the Allies for little more than hours. The Brazilians now had an overwhelming advantage in terms of men, and their commitment to the war was such that Lopez could not ultimately have resisted it. It might be asked why he did not appear to understand this fact, and why he did not take the opportunity to surrender and spare his people yet more misery. At first glance the resistance to which he committed his country though noble, was misguided and pointless; yet it must be understood that even now, when the tables had turned, the Allies had offered him no easy way out. The terms of the Treaty of the Triple Alliance were still the only conditions under which Paraguay would be granted peace, and so a fight to the end seemed the only possible outcome. Lopez's stubbornness cannot be understood if, like the Allies, one assumes that he was simply interested in his own immediate future, for then he

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would surely have accepted the offers of money and safety and lived out a comfortable retirement in Europe. The fact that he did not accept such inducements seems to suggest that they were not his motivation, but that his musings to Washburn about his historical reputation were. For, from his point of view, he was never offered anything better than abject surrender, humiliating expulsion, and a reputation as the man who allowed almost a half of his country to be swallowed up by foreign powers. Few leaders would have found this an acceptable basis for peace, and few of his people did either. The worrying thing is that the Brazilians, who were now almost solely responsible for the continuation of the war, did not seem to have considered this. No attempt was made to persuade Lopez to give up—in fact, no one in Brazil seems even to have entertained the possibility of negotiating with him. Indeed, there may have been those who wanted the war to continue simply to weaken Paraguay further and make it more amenable to Brazil in the future. There were certainly those, like Pedro II, who wanted to see the end of Lopez and continued to produce this as the main justification for prolonging the agony, but it seems that the majority of those in Brazil had neither the imagination nor the courage to end the war. The domestic political situation was such that neither faction could contemplate anything other than outright victory, and that meant fulfilling the aim of ousting Lopez. The idea that it might have been possible to get rid of him by offering terms in which both he and his country could emerge with a degree of honor, which they had surely merited, was seemingly never discussed.

19 The December Campaign: December 1868

At the beginning of October 1868, the two armies faced each other on either side of the Piquisiri, where Lopez had chosen one of his best defensive positions so far. On the right of his line he had the natural obstacle of the River Paraguay and on the left the almost impassable swamps of the Ipoa Lagoon. South of the Piquisiri, between his lines and the Allies, were more swamps, and by digging two dikes, he had managed to raise the water level in these to a depth of five feet, making a frontal advance exceedingly difficult. Along the river he had dug a line of trenches, which connected the fort at Angostura on the River Paraguay with his headquarters at Ita Ivate, the hill at the end of a long ridge that dominated the whole area. Around the ridge were woods, orange groves, a few villages, and also marshes, which provided obstacles to any invader. Originally, Lopez had considered going inland to Villarrica, a town linked to Asuncion by railroad, to make his last stand, but realizing the strategic importance of the river over which his guns still had some effect, he decided instead on the Piquisiri. The Paraguayan lines were some nine miles long and although the trenches were not particularly well constructed, for the wetness of the ground meant that they flooded if they went below a certain level, yet they seemed good enough, combined with the natural obstacles, to deter an allied attack. He had some 18,000 men at this time, and he divided them into five divisions: one under the command of Thompson at Angostura; three in the Piquisiri line, under Colonels Hermosa, Gonzalez, and Rivarola, with the rest of the army, including the mobile reserve led by Caballero, around his headquarters at Ita Ivate. He could also count on 70 guns. The lofty telegraph poles that he constructed to communi-

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cate along his lines could be seen by the Allies, who set up their camp around Palmas, with more than 30,000 men and 200 guns. Caxias did not intend to waste time; no sooner had the main body of his army arrived than he ordered an offensive reconnaissance to be made against the Paraguayan positions in order to determine their strength. Osorio was selected for the task, and on 1 October he probed different parts of the enemy line, even succeeding in taking a small forward trench on its left. What he learned was that any major assault would be extremely difficult, so Caxias, no doubt recalling the disaster at Curupaity, decided against a frontal movement. This meant that he had to consider an attack around the flanks. Given that the terrain on the Paraguayan left was extremely difficult, the only alternative was either to move troops up the river and behind the Piquisirf trenches, as General Gelly suggested—which would be highly dangerous, since they would come under heavy fire from the batteries at Angostura—or else evade Thompson's artillery completely by making another path through the Chaco. The latter was the favored option of Caxias, who managed to convince his ally, and on 9 October orders were given for a route to be surveyed. Lopez had considered this such an impossibility that he had left no Paraguayan forces on that side of the river, nor had he made any effort to protect the trenches at Piquisiri against an attack from the rear. General Argolo with the 2nd Corps was put in charge of the task of building the road, and he delegated the engineering details to Lieutenant Jourdan. This route was to be one of the most ambitious and significant undertakings of the war, and Caxias must take credit for attempting what intelligent opinion regarded as being an almost impossible feat. In less than a month, a track had been carved through the thick jungle from opposite Palmas, where the main allied camp was situated, past Angostura, away from Thompson's prying eyes, and up as far as the bank opposite Villeta. The road, which was some 30 miles long, included five bridges, fortified redoubts, and a telegraph line, and it entailed the cutting down of more than 8,000 trees. A thousand men at any time were working up to their waists in water in the hot, fetid atmosphere of the tropical forest, plagued by mosquitoes and insects and the dreadful humidity. The almost unceasing rains caused the river to rise, which resulted in the lagoons becoming deeper and work becoming slower and more strenuous. Pack animals would get stuck in the mud; without the possibility of extrication, they would remain fast, slowly starving to death. There was a real danger that the road would be submerged, and Caxias, who came on several occasions to investigate its progress, became depressed toward the end of October and thought that he might have to abandon the whole idea. He also noted that the surface was not yet strong enough to support artillery and so ordered still more trees to be felled. He demanded that another track be carved, west of the main one, which would go far beyond Villeta up toward Santa Elena, where there was a relatively easy crossing point of the River

Piquisiri Campaign. December 1868

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To the Bitter End

Paraguay. To hedge his bets, in case the road should be flooded, he maintained periodic reconnaissances of the Paraguayan lines on the Piquisiri, sometimes sending in quite large units to harass the enemy and see whether an alternative way through might still be possible. One of these maneuvers, on 16 November, involved most of Osorio's 3rd Corps, together with a strong bombardment from the squadron. This had the further benefit of distracting the Paraguayans from what was going on in the Chaco and preventing them sending troops to annoy the road builders. Of course, from his high position on the Ita Ivate hill, from where he could see clearly the comings and goings of the allied troops at Palmas, and because of his increasingly efficient spy network, Lopez was well aware of what was happening in the Chaco. His failure to deal with it was not simply due to anrogance, although he still doubted whether the Allies would be able to bring up significant numbers of troops that side of the river, but also because he simply could not afford to spare defenders from the trenches on the Piquisiri. However, he did send several thousand men to garrison Villeta and built trenches there, since the indications were that it was opposite this point that the road was going to end and where the attack would be most likely to come. He also sent small groups into the Chaco to spy on the Allies, and occasionally to fire on them, though his aim was no more than to slow down their progress, for he had no desire to waste further men in pointless battles. Centurion related how one day Lopez was looking through his telescope at the activity across the river when he exclaimed to his staff officers, "Who of you has the guts to go and punish those slaves?"1 A Captain Escobar, one of those who had recently fallen out of favor with the marshal, promptly volunteered and was given two battalions. On crossing the river, he found that the Brazilians were too strong; sent most of his men back, but he remained with a couple of hundred to lay a small ambush and bring back some trophies to restore his good name. Taking on the Brazilians in the Chaco naturally meant crossing the River Paraguay, and this was now made more difficult by the activities of the squadron. No longer was this a passive force, for by mid-October nine warships, including five monitors, had already made the passage past the batteries at Angostura, and they were now able to liaise with the road builders and threaten the port of Villeta. They communicated with their fellow ships further downstream and with the allied headquarters by means of messages in bottles dropped into the river. However primitive these methods, the presence of the boats meant that Lopez could not reinforce his position by river from Asuncion, and they proved an effective part of the stranglehold that was slowly being placed around him. Meanwhile, in his camp life went on even in these desperate days in an extraordinary atmosphere of insouciance toward the critical military situation. The judges continued their interrogations of suspected conspirators, and in an area of the camp reserved for the prisoners, the agonies and atrocities continued unabated. Wandering one day through an orange grove, one prisoner, the Brazilian Major da Cunha Mattos, saw a tall lady walking with a Paraguayan officer.

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He noted that she was of noble bearing and well dressed and realized that it was Madam Lynch. Calling out to him, she politely asked whether he spoke English, and if not, French. She apologized for the situation in Paraguay, which was "a country without industry whose doors had been shut for some time,"2 and asked him about his friends and whether they had everything they needed. Naturally, he replied that they did and noted by her complicit smile that she understood the constraints he was under. She offered him books and money, and he accepted the former but reminded her that money was useless in the camp, where there was little or nothing to buy. After a short conversation she shook his hand and proved to be as good as her word, sending him sweets, cigars, and brandy. Yet Lopez himself was not so kind to foreigners. The Allies had allowed gunboats from Italy, France, Britain, and the United States to pass upriver to bring out their citizens from Paraguay, and the British took off Dr. Fox and some women and children, though if they had expected a large-scale exodus of their nationals, they were to be disappointed. Although some of the British technicians may have wanted to remain at their posts, it seems certain that their unenthusiastic reaction to their rescuers was down to fear of Lopez. Dr. Stewart held out little hope of rescue and wrote to his brother that the foreigners "were all bound to die like rotten sheep rather than one man should give way."3 Even Thompson, who was the most trusted of all foreigners in Paraguay, was forbidden to talk to Captain Parsons of HMS Beacon, and he remarked in his memoirs that "it would have been as much as my life was worth to have spoken to any of these gentlemen without Lopez's leave."4 What did go out on the foreign gunboats, but was not commented on so much at the time, were several heavy trunks belonging to Lopez and Madam Lynch. These were bound for the brother of Dr. Stewart in Scotland, and they were later rumored to be packed with coin and jewels and whatever portable wealth could be amassed at short notice. This was confirmed after the war, when Madam Lynch embarked on a long and fruitless lawsuit with Dr. Stewart for the return of "her" fortune. There is some debate as to whether Lopez was, in fact, aware of what was happening or whether the initiative came from Madam Lynch, who was secretly disposing of her ill-gotten gains, but it seems unlikely that such an act could happen without his knowledge. While revealing the dishonesty and covetousness of the pair and marking them as rogues rather than patriots, the significance is perhaps more in that it suggests that Lopez had by now a realistic view of the outcome of the war. It was at this time that the United States made one further attempt to bring peace: Webb passed on a message to the Brazilian government from the secretary of state, Seward, indicating the profound regret of the United States at the continuation of the war and offering mediation to end it. Brazil replied that it would consult its allies, but three months later it had still done nothing, and the initiative was allowed to lapse. In the British House of Commons, the foreign secretary turned down suggestions that he become involved in mediation, arguing that it would not be accepted at the present time, but he nevertheless issued a

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vague call for all countries to back the efforts of the United States to bring peace to the region "in the name of mankind and of humanity,"5 and he then forgot all about it. Some historians, generally those of a Marxist persuasion, have accused Britain of promoting the conflict for its own economic ends. While there is no doubt that Britain had been actively involved in the Plate over the previous 50 years, even to the extent of using armed force to achieve its ends, during this war its interest was mysteriously absent. Yet while innocent of the charges of meddling, it is surprising, if not reprehensible, that Britain did not try harder to bring peace, for in truth it made not one single move to justify its great power status and preeminence in the region. There may have been some justification in the suggestion that the United States would not have looked kindly on its interference, though this had not seemed to bother Britain previously. On 4 November, Caxias made his last inspection of the Chaco path and declared it satisfactory. At its end he embarked on the monitor, the Rio Grande, to go upstream and locate the best point at which to cross the river. On his return he made it clear to his staff that the easiest place was at Villeta, directly opposite the end of the path. In fact, he had no intention of crossing there, for he had seen a much better place further north, but by now he was aware that the security in his own camp was so poor that whenever he announced a decision, Lopez seemed to be aware of it within days. It was known that Paraguayans came into the camp at night in captured uniforms to find out information, and sure enough, within days of Caxias voicing his thoughts, Lopez began strengthening the defenses at Villeta. Throughout November, the Brazilians began moving stores and artillery up the jungle path, and on 21 November Caxias ordered his infantry to cross the river from Palmas. Lopez was aware that an attack was coming soon, and he wrote to his war minister, Caminos, saying that he could see the enemy beginning their march through the Chaco. Caxias himself went across a few days later with his headquarters, but he had to call a temporary halt to further troop movements because a rise in river level had converted the region into a huge swamp. He decided to create a diversion by sending part of the squadron upriver to bombard Asuncion, hoping that this would draw out enemy forces from Villeta. Lopez noted this and sent an urgent message to Paraguayan ships anchored near the capital to move out of harm's way. On 29 November, allied ironclads bombarded the main buildings of the city, including the customs house, the arsenal, and Lopez's palace, where they managed to destroy one of the four towers on the main block, bringing his flag crashing to the ground. The crossing of the River Paraguay eventually took place on 5 December and turned out to be a well-executed and successful operation. The cavalry were sent along their special track through the Chaco, past the end of the main path, and as far as Santa Elena. The infantry and some light artillery were embarked opposite Villeta and sailed up to Santa Elena, where they crossed together with the

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Battle of Ytororo, 6 December 1868 cavalry. There was only a small detachment of Paraguayans to meet them, and they put up little resistance, so that by the end of the day some 15,000 allied soldiers had landed on the east bank of the river, miles behind Lopez's lines. Argolo, who was in command of the 2nd Corps, quite rightly sent out a detachment of cavalry to make a reconnaissance of the track toward Villeta that same evening. Colonel Niederauer crossed the bridge over the Ytororo and continued along the path, but seeing no sign of the enemy, he returned to base to make his report. Neither he nor his commander appeared to realize the significance of the bridge, and thus they made no effort to secure it. This was to prove a costly error, and one that was gratefully seized upon by Lopez, who immediately dispatched Caballero and his mobile reserve to take the position. At dawn the next morning Caxias ordered his army to advance, and by 6 A.M. the vanguard had come in sight of the bridge. From their position on the heights, they could see that the road wound down in a defile before coming to the bridge, which was bordered by trees. The stream was a fast-flowing torrent some 15 feet across, with the bridge little more than 12 feet in width. On the other side of the stream the ground sloped gently upwards in a large clearing surrounded by dense woods. In this area Caballero had drawn up his men.

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The Paraguayan general had left Lopez's camp at 10 P.M. the previous evening and had reached the bridge only just before daybreak. Consequently, his troops were tired and hungry. He placed Colonel Serrano, with 16 battalions and 12 guns, in the clearing in front of the bridge in a rough semicircle, while keeping himself in reserve with four regiments of cavalry. He placed two guns on a small rise, from where they could fire directly into the defile that the Allies had to come along. His troops were placed in such a way that most of them were hidden from the enemy by patches of trees, so that it looked at first glance as if they were a relatively small force. Caxias was well aware that no matter what the condition or quantity of the Paraguayan defenders, they were in an extremely strong position, for the bridge seemed to be the only way of crossing the stream, and the weight of Brazilian numbers would be countered by the fact that only a handful of troops could pass over it at any one time. There seemed to be no clear way that he could outflank the enemy, but nevertheless he sent Osorio and the 3rd Corps off to his left, led by a Paraguayan guide, with orders to encircle Caballero. Without waiting for him to get into position and without even knowing whether he was anywhere near the enemy, Caxias ordered the 2nd Corps to advance. Colonel Machado, at the head of four battalions of infantry, came down the defile and attempted to cross the bridge. There they were met with the full force of the Paraguayan artillery, which found it easy to concentrate its fire on the narrow Brazilian front. Caught on the bridge in a devastating barrage of grapeshot and cannonballs, the leading Brazilian battalions turned to flee. Machado courageously rode around rallying his men, and he managed to get them to charge again; this time they swept across and captured two of the nearest enemy guns. Machado, however, was killed as he crossed the bridge. His men now found a much larger force of Paraguayans hidden in the bush all around them and realized that they were caught in a trap. Serrano ordered Colonel Godoy to make a bayonet charge and also sent in the cavalry. The Brazilians formed squares and resisted for a while, but they were broken by the weight of the Paraguayan horse and artillery and were sent fleeing back in disorder over the bridge. Caxias now ordered Niederauer and his cavalry into action, and struggling through the ranks of their own retreating infantry, they crossed the bridge, captured four guns, and pushed the Paraguayans back into the woods. Again, however, the attackers now found themselves under fire from three sides and, dispersed and disorganized after their charge, they were easily routed and forced back to their own side of the stream. Caxias commanded General Gurgao to retake the bridge, which he managed to do despite being wounded, but for the third time the Paraguayans pushed the Brazilians back. At this moment there were possibly 16,000 men fighting for possession of a tiny bridge, which had so far changed hands three times. Caxias now ordered General Bittencourt, with f2 battalions of his 1st Corps, to take the bridge once and for all, but no sooner had they reached it than the fire from the Paraguayan guns halted them. Confusion was caused by the front ranks

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pushing back against those behind, and men milled around in panic, many falling into the torrent, while the Paraguayans continued to pour fire into them. This was the last straw for Caxias. Unsheathing his sword, the 64-year-old marshal spurred on his horse, and calling the remnants of the 2nd Corps to follow him, he advanced toward the bridge and directly into the enemy fire. Those present accepted that this was the turning point of the battle. Shamed by the example of their veteran leader, the Brazilians pulled themselves together and made a final effort to cross the bridge. By the time Caxias had reached it, the battle was virtually over. Niederauer charged the Paraguayan guns, capturing several, and resisted attempts by Caballero's horsemen to rescue them. As more Brazilians crossed the bridge, the Paraguayan infantry began retreating, while their cavalry bought them time to escape with several furious charges. Caballero left behind six guns and 1,200 men, while the Allies lost at least double that number, in a battle that had lasted barely two hours but the intensity of which was extraordinary. Among the allied casualties was General Gurgao, who died later from his wounds, and Captain Manoel Deodoro da Fonseca, subsequently president of Brazil, who, although wounded, was fortunate to avoid the fate of three of his eight brothers, who had enlisted, and died, during the war. The Paraguayans, although outnumbered by at least three to one, had shown great resilience, beating back countless attacks and recapturing the bridge no fewer than three times. The Battle of Ytororo could well be classed as one of their proudest moments. Over an hour after the fighting ended, Osorio finally appeared on the scene, having—either accidentally or not—been led a merry dance by his Paraguayan guide. Cerqueira had had the good fortune to spend the battle with the reserve in a small clearing to the left of the allied line. When the firing stopped, he walked a short distance to his left and noticed that in that place the stream was shallow enough to be crossed and could have served as a useful, and less costly, place from which to outflank the enemy. Perhaps wisely, he chose to keep his thoughts to himself. Caballero, along with his exhausted soldiers, retired a few miles south of the Ytororo and camped on the other side of the Ipane stream. Caxias was now determined not to give the fleeing Paraguayans any respite. The morning after the battle he ordered an immediate advance along the same route that Osorio had taken the previous day, and by the night of the 8th the two armies were facing each other on either side of the Potrero Baldovinas. The weather along the route had been extraordinarily hot. The Brazilians marched throughout the day, sweat pouring down their bodies, with their mouths, eyes, and noses full of the dust that was whipped from the track by the fierce wind. The heat was suffocating and the glare of the sun on the sandy road reflected into the eyes of the men, so that by midday Cerqueira could not even bear to stay on his horse. Nineteen soldiers died from exhaustion. To try to alleviate their suffering, many cut down tree branches and earned them over their heads; from a small rise, Cerqueira looked back at the army as it snaked its

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way along the road and the sudden, and peculiarly apt, idea struck him that under the cover of the protective shrubbery, it looked like Birnam Wood must have done to Macbeth as it moved toward Dunsinane. It is doubtful that any such poetic thoughts occurred to Caballero and his men on the morning of the 11th, as they watched the Brazilians leave the road and deploy in battle formation. The awesome sight of tens of thousands of their enemies, led by bands playing, in uniforms of blue, white, and gray, together with their artillery and cavalry, must have been terrifying. The heat had given way over the previous couple of days to rain, which had dampened their spirits and their ammunition. Although the early morning was dry, overhead there began to gather storm clouds of such density that a few hours later it seemed that evening had already come. Caballero had been able to get hold of another battalion and 12 guns from Villeta, so that he had a total force of some 5,500 men and 18 artillery pieces. The position that he was now obliged to defend was not one that he would ideally have chosen, but he simply did not have the strength to run any further. He had arranged his men on the southern of two hills, which were intersected by the Avahy stream. His army was drawn up in a rough semicircle, with ten guns in the center and four on each side, but he could be easily outflanked, and although there was a bridge across the stream, which at first glance made the situation appear similar to Ytororo, in fact the Avahy could be forded with relative ease. The Brazilians, who took up a position on the opposite hill had a little under 18,000 men, many of whom had not taken part in the battle four days before and were therefore fresh and confident. Lopez had not sent any reinforcements to help Caballero, and as so often he left his commander to fend for himself. He had earlier asked the two senior officers who had ridden to his headquarters whether the position at Avahy was defensible. Colonel Valois Rivarola had said no, but Colonel Serrano, on a high after his promotion following the action at Ytororo, had convinced him that the Paraguayans would fight and win. Lopez sent a message back to Caballero, saying that if he was not prepared to fight the enemy there, he did have people who were. The competitive machismo with which the Paraguayan army was so disastrously imbued worked once again, and Caballero grudgingly replied that he was not a coward and that of course he would fight. Just before the battle, Lopez appeared to have second thoughts, for he sent a message urging him to withdraw to safety immediately, but by the time the note arrived, it was too late. Serrano, wearing his new colonel's uniform, joined Rivarola on the hill before the battle, and the latter looked him up and down and remarked sardonically, "Well, friend, vou are soon going to have the chance to show off your new stars."6 Serrano responded with a smile. From their position, the Paraguayans could see on the hill opposite the whole mass of the Brazilian army, which Caxias had ostentatiously spread out to try to intimidate them. The marshal had already sent Triunfo eastwards along the track to cut off a possible retreat, while General Mena Barreto was ordered to move

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around against their exposed left flank. Under a sky that had become so heavy it seemed it would drop and crush them, Caballero and his men waited for what they all must have thought would be the end. At 10 A.M., following a preliminary artillery bombardment, Caxias turned to his cornet and ordered him to blow the signal for the attack. Osorio and the vanguard began by slowly descending the slope toward the stream in three columns. From their vantage point, the Paraguayans opened fire with artillery and muskets, pouring so much destruction into the Brazilians that the leading ranks were halted and began turning back on themselves. At that moment the skies opened, and a torrential downpour was unleashed that was to last throughout the rest of the day. The rain dampened the powder, preventing the flintlocks from sparking and rendering many of the muskets useless. No matter: the Paraguayans, especially, were used to fighting with bayonets and sabers. Seeing the enemy infantry hesitating and confused, Caballero sent his cavalry charging down the slope to try to force them away. Osorio rode to the front, courageous as ever, and began urging and pushing his men back into battle. At about that time a musket ball struck him in the face, entering his cheek and smashing his lower jaw. Dazed with pain and shock, the general fought to keep himself upright and not to let the men see his wound. Somehow he kept at the head of his troops, before aides caught hold of his horse and led him back through the lines. He held his shattered jaw in his hand, trying to disguise the extent of the wound, but his soldiers noticed his paleness and the extraordinary fact that he had his back to the enemy, and their spirit began weakening. Not only had he, through his courage and determination, been an inspiration in countless battles of the war, but more importantly, he was a talismanic presence. Despite being in the thick of every action, he had not even been wounded, and the unspoken belief grew among his men that he was immune to enemy fire. They followed him even through the most dangerous situations, because they considered him lucky and assumed that his fortune would rub off on them. Aware of the possible effect on his army's morale of Osorio's departure, Caxias, as at Ytororo, decided that the time had come for some personal involvement; putting himself at the head of the 2nd Corps, he led them down the slope and into the teeth of the Paraguayan resistance. Like Osorio, he had earned the right to his command and appeared not only to accept the principle of leading by example, but even to relish it. The battle around the stream, in the valley between the two hills, was long and bloody, but somehow the Paraguayans were able to counter the huge disparity in numbers. When Caxias called in reinforcements, which began climbing the slope toward Caballero's position, repeated cavalry charges sent them scurrying back down again and across the river. Yet superior numbers were bound to tell, and when Mena Barreto appeared with a whole corps on the left of the Paraguayan lines, it was clear that the battle was effectively over. Yet it did not end Paraguayan resistance. The words "Paraguayan" and "courage" have been mentioned so often together in this history that they have almost

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Battle of Avahy, 11 December 1868

become synonymous, yet nothing, perhaps in the entire war, matched the desperate bravery of Caballero and his pitifully few fighters at the Battle of Avahy. Attacked from the front and the left by two Brazilian corps, the defenders formed a large square, which resisted, almost literally, to the death. Sodden by the rain, with ammunition that had become useless, the square had to face not only the cavalry but the massed ranks of allied infantry, which slowly but surely wore them down. Cerqueira, who again was fortunate enough to be held in reserve and who had a grandstand view of the battle from the top of the hill opposite, described the Paraguayans as being wiped away by an avalanche. Under a blackened sky, lit by the flashes of lightning and Congreve rockets, amid the crashing of thunder and of cannon, the Paraguayans somehow held out for three hours, until virtually all lay dead. Caballero and Rivarola somehow escaped. The latter was wounded in the neck but managed to ride to safety, while the general was surrounded so closely by Brazilian cavalry that one of them managed to seize hold of his poncho, and only by pulling it off could he escape. Caxias was presented with this trophy, as well as the erroneous information that Caballero was dead. Out of 5,500 men, the Paraguayans had lost 3,600 dead and 1,000 taken prisoner, as well as all their 18

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guns. In addition, some 300 Paraguayan women were found huddling together for comfort a short distance away. Exhausted, drenched by the rain, in some cases wounded, and utterly terrified, they had spent the day watching the destruction of their loved ones, and now they fell prey to the victorious, lust-ridden soldiery. The Brazilians had lost slightly under 800 killed and wounded, among them the cavalry commander, Colonel Niederauer, who died after having his leg amputated, but not Osorio, whose luck held out and whose reputation consequently grew to even higher levels. His wound healed, and he was able to return to the army some months later. After the battle, several hundred of the Paraguayan prisoners took advantage of the overconfidence of their captors and managed to escape back to their own lines, among them Sergeant, later President, Cirilo Rivarola. Lopez showed little emotion over the defeat, for he saw it, in his scheme of things, as little more than a sideshow, but he was gratified at the survival of his favorite general. After the battle, Caxias withdrew the army to Villeta to recuperate. His men, although victorious, were exhausted by the days of marching, the extremes of climate, and the losses that meant that they had to reform several of their battalions. He considered that Lopez was too well emplaced to carry on for a quick victory; besides, the waiting time would give him the opportunity to call on reinforcements—a luxury that he knew that Lopez did not enjoy. For ten days, in his stronghold on top of the Ita Ivate hill, Lopez and his men waited for what he described as the decisive battle. The hill had two flat summits, with a small valley between them. On one of these, the Paraguayans had constructed a small village full of one-storied, straw-roofed huts, lined up on three sides of a large square. The huts were constructed in the local style, with verandahs to give shade to the windows of the rooms. The side of the square nearest to the river was occupied by Lopez's quarters, which included his own house and a main building that served as a meeting hall. He usually sat at a large table at the end of this hall, where he received reports from the front line and from where he sent his orders, using aides who were always standing by ready to do his bidding. The telegraph office nearby kept him in touch with his positions, and on the verandah stood three large telescopes, through which the comings and goings of the enemy could be observed. The new United States minister, General McMahon, presented his credentials on 14 December in a formal ceremony, with Dr. Stewart acting as his interpreter. He was surprised to find that although the soldiers were in a bad state, without boots and with very poor uniforms, if any, the officers were still well-dressed and smart, a fact that contradicted the dilapidated state of the army of popular rumor. The staff officers seemed to spend most of the time sitting around playing jacks, apparently calm and relaxed despite the critical military situation in which they found themselves. McMahon was eager to dispel the bad feeling between the two countries that had been created by the accusations that the previous minister, Washburn, had

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been party to the conspiracy against Lopez. He seemed to be completely taken in by the obsequiousness of the president and his mistress, who entertained him lavishly and treated him with courtesy and respect. The minister appeared unaware that barely a few hundred yards from his quarters lay the prison camp, filled with scores of wretched beings who languished in conditions of misery and torment while they awaited interrogation, torture, and probable execution as alleged conspirators. It is not clear whether MacMahon was ignorant, for on his walks he was always escorted by Paraguayan officers, or whether he simply wished to deny to himself the evidence that was almost under his nose. At any rate, he became one of Lopez's major apologists—a situation that the marshal was happy to encourage in the vain hope that the United States might yet step in to save him. If Lopez gave an impression of confidence at this time, it was more for outward consumption, for even he was beginning to realize that the game was up. Already he had ordered that the capital be moved from Luque further inland to Peribebuy, and during the week's grace that Caxias now allowed him. he took the opportunity to clear up some outstanding matters. Chief among these was the winding-up of the treason trials and the sentencing of the plotters, which was done by the 17th, leaving only the formality of the executions to be completed. He also reorganized the defenses along the line of the Piquisiri. On the 16th, he removed most of the fit soldiers from the trenches and brought them back to his headquarters, replacing them with invalids and with the very young and the very old. Now that the Allies had outflanked him, he knew that the Piquisiri line was neither defensible nor even particularly important. He left a mere 2,000 men to garrison the whole nine kilometers along the river against a possible frontal attack from the Argentines, who were still in Palmas, and put up an iron chain along the rear of the trenches in case they should be assaulted from behind. Halfway down the hillside at Ita Ivate, covering the direction in which he expected the Brazilians to advance, he ordered more trenches to be dug among the bushes and trees, guarding the two paths that wound their way up the slope. Yet his men were weakened by hunger and exhaustion, and their efforts were paltry—the trenches not being deep enough to stand in and providing cover only for those sitting hunched down. From Villeta, Caxias carried out reconnaissances up to, and around the back of, Lopez's position, and on 17 December the Brazilians ambushed a cavalry regiment at Zanja Blanca, killing 140 for the loss of only three wounded. Only the commander and a corporal escaped back to the Paraguayan lines. Caxias had originally planned to launch his final assault on Lopez's headquarters on the 19th, but heavy downpours made an attack impractical, and it was not until the 21st that he moved his army closer to the Paraguayan positions. At dinner on the 20th, Lopez had announced to his officers that Caxias was going to attack him the following afternoon. There was evident joy and relief on the faces of those present, for the waiting was wearing them down and they, too, wanted a

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decisive battle, even though the outcome was all too obvious. Lopez announced, "Here the war will be concluded."7 The allied plan was for General Joao Mena Barreto to attack the Piquisirf trench from the rear, while Caxias would lead the assault against Lopez's headquarters. Although the marshal had undertaken several reconnaissances, the Paraguayans had held their fire, and so it was difficult for him to ascertain exactly their strength or where their positions were. Nevertheless, he opted for a frontal attack up the two paths, under cover from his artillery placed on the Cumbarity ridge. His right column would be led by General Luis Mena Barreto, while the left would be under General Bittencourt. with a strong force of cavalry led by Triunfo going around into Potrero Marmol to cut off any Paraguayan retreat. The Potrero had already been witness to drama that very morning. Colonel Marco had arrived in the clearing where the prisoners were held and ordered 12 of them to stand. As he read out each name, the prisoner was obliged to take two paces forward; when he had finished, they left calmly, in single file, followed by three priests holding chairs. When they reached the meadow, each was given the chance to sit and confess his sins. Then they had to stand while the sentence of the court was read out, and, finally, they were given the sign to turn their backs on the line of executioners, and were dispatched by a volley of musket fire. Among those who died were Bishop Palacios, General Barrios, Colonel Alen, Berges, the former foreign minister, and Lopez's brother, Benigno. Lopez insisted that both his sisters witness the scene. Also executed was Doha Juliana Ynsfran de Martfnez. wife of the erstwhile commander of Humaita and former lady-in-waiting to Madam Lynch, who even under torture had refused to utter a word against her husband. On the march toward Ita Ivate, many of the Brazilians were nervous. Cerqueira was mounted on his favorite horse and was chatting to a fellow officer from the 16th Battalion, Captain Castelo Branco. Around them the men marched silently, wrapped up in their thoughts, while, in the distance, large white storm clouds gathered on the horizon. As they reached their positions, Castelo Branco extracted a big tin of sausages from his knapsack and said, "let's eat. as it may be the last time."8 Both were sent to reconnoiter. creeping down into the dip in front of the slope that rose toward Lopez's fortifications on the hill above. They could clearly make out the Paraguayan cannon, surrounded by soldiers, and Castelo Branco remarked that the day was going to be "one of the worst."9 At that instant a shell from the Whitworth, captured by the Paraguayans at Tuyuty, burst among the men of the 16th, killing and wounding many of them. The 16th Battalion was given the task of skirmishing, and at the double they descended the hill into the valley and then up the slope on the other side. Cerqueira was amazed by the enthusiasm of his men, and he had to gallop to keep up with them. As they moved up the hill, the defenders opened fire with

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Battle of Ita Ivate, 21-27 December 1868

artillery and rifles, and by the time he reached the first of the enemy trenches, his battalion had suffered heavy losses. Looking around him, he was unable to see any of his fellow officers, but his men were up against the trench, thrusting with bayonets as the Paraguayans tried to scramble to safety. Suddenly, he felt a heavy blow, like a hammer, smashing against the side of his head, and he fell senseless from his horse. After the preliminary artillery bombardment, Caxias had dispatched the two columns up the paths that, not surprisingly, turned out to be the most strongly defended parts of the hill. He had been lulled into a false sense of security by the lack of response to his own shelling from the Paraguayan artillery, and thus the ferocity of fire that greeted his men came as a shock. Mena Barreto's column moved through a defile, encountering strong resistance but managing to reach the first line of trenches, where Cerqueira had been hit, to expel the defenders. Bittencourt moved at a similar pace and was fiercely opposed, but the weight of numbers meant that he, too, managed to take the trenches in his sector. There seemed nothing to stop the relentless advance of the Brazilian troops, and they shortly reached the summit of the first hill, where they were joined by their cavalry. However, as they moved across the plateau toward Lopez's headquarters, they lost their formations and were surprised by a sudden cavalry charge from Colonel Rivarola, who had been hiding in the trees. Fierce fighting developed, and eventually they had to retreat to the first line of trenches.

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By 6 P.M., at which time Caxias decided against any further advances, the Brazilians still occupied no more than this line, though they had been able to capture ten Paraguayan guns, including the famous Whitworth. At one stage the advancing Brazilian infantry had got to within a few hundred yards of Lopez's headquarters. MacMahon, who witnessed the battle at close quarters, noted that if they had deployed in lines, they would have been able, with their greater numbers, to sweep back the small knot of men who were resisting them and could have captured the headquarters and perhaps even Lopez himself. Their mistake was to keep advancing in columns, which slowed as the front met resistance from the defenders, who were then able to attack them from the sides. He watched as the weight of their numbers pushed the columns on and saw Paraguayan officers, including those on the general staff, come from the headquarters to take their place in the line. Slowly the Paraguayans halted the leading soldiers, causing the Brazilians to lose their momentum, and after a brief fight the column began to turn in on itself and retreat. Accounts differ as to the exact role that Lopez played in this battle, the first in which he had been in real danger. Thompson, who was not present, maintained that the marshal fled, but Centurion, who remained around the headquarters throughout the battle, insisted that he held his ground, urging his officers back into action and insisting that if they were well enough to walk, then they were capable of fighting. Centurion, too, saw action for the first time, for he was one of the staff officers described by MacMahon who resisted the Brazilian column. Also blooded, surprisingly for the first time, was the presidential escort, the celebrated "monkey tails," who, led by their septuagenarian leader, Colonel Toledo, charged the attacking columns. He, and most of his men, were killed, and Colonel Valois Rivarola was seriously wounded, dying later of his injuries at Cerro Leon. At dusk, rain began to fall, and in the headquarters there was silence and a "fearful sense of gloom,"10 broken only by the occasional whine of bullets and the strident sound of a cockerel, which crowed energetically every time its sleep was disturbed. Centurion estimated that there were only 90 fit men left. Cerqueira came to during the battle but was too weak from the wound in his head to continue fighting. He somehow made it all the way to the church in Villeta, which was serving temporarily as a hospital, but during the three days he spent there he was treated only once. He had to share a common drinking cup with gangrenous patients, and on the third day the smell coming from his head was so terrible that he discharged himself and wandered into the town, where he found a friend who was a medical student. Here he received proper treatment. His skull had been pierced, and there was a four-inch hole from which large worms were emerging. Yet he survived to fight again while two-thirds of his battalion—including 22 of its 28 officers, among them Castelo Branco—did not. Altogether, the Brazilians had lost nearly 4,000 men in this one attack. The battle, which had so nearly resulted in complete victory, ended with the Brazilians having made tiny gains in exchange for huge losses of men. Caxias,

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who had been so overconfident that he had started the attack late in the afternoon, without adequate reconnaissance, and chosen to advance frontally against strong Paraguayan positions, realized that he had been too hasty. He spent that "night of horrible memory"11 touring the captured trenches, trying to lift the spirits of his men, while both sides continued a fierce firefight under the relentless curtain of rain. Yet the day had not been a complete failure. At 5 P.M., General Joao Mena Barreto had fallen on the Paraguayan defenses all along the line at Piquisirf with overwhelming superiority of numbers. At the same time Gelly, from his base in Palmas, had made a feint attack with his Argentine forces, so that the Paraguayans felt they were encircled. They defended themselves as best they could, but this was not another Curupaity, and within a short time they were obliged to surrender. They lost 700 dead and wounded and 31 guns, compared to just a handful of Brazilians. Angostura was now cut off, and the Paraguayan lines were split. The following morning, Caxias sent word to Gelly to move up immediately to join the allied troops in front of Ita Ivate. For some time there had been friction between the two men, and Gelly had indicated in his correspondence with Mitre his belief that the Brazilians were deliberately marginalizing his troops so that they could gain credit for winning the war. He was unimpressed with, or jealous of, Caxias's style of command and considered that his own troops had been wasting their time. In the view of the commander-in-chief, however, Gelly's men had been serving a useful purpose in keeping the Paraguayans at Piquisirf pinned down and away from Lopez's base on top of the hill; but now that the trench line had been captured, he was grateful for the extra 9,000 troops that Gelly brought with him on the 22nd. He even proposed an attack for the following day, but the Argentines were exhausted after their march, and so it was agreed to wait. On top of the hill, the bullets whipped over the heads of the men as they lay in their trenches, crashing into the flimsy walls of the huts and cutting down leaves from the ombu tree in the middle of the square. Centurion awoke after a heavy sleep and, walking across to the headquarters, saw Lopez standing alone on the verandah. The marshal ordered him to go along the lines to raise the morale of the men and promise them that shortly food and brandy would be brought up. He mounted his horse and came across Major del Valle, who, on hearing of his mission, advised him to say the Lord's Prayer and an Ave Maria "because you won't come back alive."12 He galloped along the lines with the whistle of bullets ringing in his ears. One group on the far right was fighting a minor skirmish against some Brazilians, and he could see them sweating profusely, covered in grime, with blood trickling from their wounds, shouting and stabbing, as the dust rose, thick and choking. As he left, his horse bolted when a bullet clipped its right ear. Further along the line he dismounted and chatted to some gunners, noticing that almost all of them

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were wounded. As he returned to headquarters, a shell exploded almost underneath his horse. He found Lopez still standing in the same position, and, as Centurion saluted him, he had a slight smile on his lips and remarked, "I thought you wouldn't return."13 Lopez ordered him to go around collecting cannonballs and, as an afterthought, promoted him to major. The marshal, in fact, had other things on his mind, and on the 23rd Centurion was woken to sign a document that turned out be Lopez's will. In it, he left all his goods to his mistress and children and sent them, along with MacMahon, whom he named as executor, to Cerro Leon; Madam Lynch, however, refused to go. That same day he received reinforcements from the interior, bringing his numbers up to 1,600 men. MacMahon found the roads full of wounded, who were streaming back after the battle of the 21st. Most were on foot, but some lay weakly by the side of the track. As they passed, the men raised their hats, and women waved and called "adios" with a smile. They crossed the River Ypecua in canoes and could hear the rumble of artillery behind them, including the heavy naval guns from the squadron near Angostura. On the far side, they mounted horses and rode on. Whenever they came to rivers, they saw Paraguayans washing their wounds. Some simply lay there and died, without calling attention to themselves, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. All the houses were deserted, and the countryside seemed completely abandoned, apart from the wounded. They traveled all day and at night slept in hammocks in empty huts. On one occasion, McMahon came upon a cart in which a colonel lay dying. By coincidence, one of the escort turned out to be his ten-year-old brother, who, although shocked, showed little emotion as he leant over to hear the dying words of his kin. Such scenes led McMahon to a gloomy conclusion about the future of the people, for, as he noted, "they have abandoned their growing crops, their houses and all their possessions . . . they are now almost unclothed, thousands without shelter, many without food or the means of obtaining it. . . . The war will only cease when the Paraguayan race is wholly exterminated."14 In the meantime, Caxias took the surprising step of sending an ultimatum to Lopez, calling on him to surrender. The idea was Gelly's, and the marshal was initially reluctant, though in the end it mattered little, for Lopez rejected it. This was hardly surprising, for the ultimatum accused him of "blind and inexplicable obstinacy"15 and offered nothing in return. Lopez's reply was remarkably diplomatic. He reminded the allied leaders that it was he who had initiated the peace attempt at Yataity Cora and they who had rejected it. He declared that he was still ready to talk peace on the basis of "equally honorable terms for all participants,"16 but that he was not going to surrender without any guarantees. It is doubtful whether Caxias was doing anything more than humoring the Argentines by sending the note, and he certainly did not seem too upset by the refusal. Centurion was one of the group that took the message down to the allied lines,

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and he had been one of the officers whom Lopez had consulted the previous day as to whether he should surrender, and who had been part of the unanimous refusal. Caxias's reply, on Christmas Day 1868, was to unleash one of the heaviest artillery bombardments of the war on Lopez's headquarters. Throughout the day, guns from all along the lines hurled explosive shells and cannon shot against the few defenders on the hill. Even the squadron joined in with a bombardment on Angostura, as McMahon had heard from some distance away. This was accompanied by a few half-hearted attacks, but the most serious engagement was when a detachment of Paraguayan cavalry tried to break out of the siege to the north but was repelled, with heavy losses. All the time the rain poured down from the dismal and leaden skies, as it had for much of the previous week. Caxias launched the final attack on the 27th. Oddly, he chose exactly the same tactics as before, which had then resulted in such conspicuous failure. This time, however, he used the fresher, Argentine troops, sending columns up each of the paths, with Gelly taking the one on the left, and the Uruguayan, Castro, the right. General Rivas was to circle the hill to the north to cut off the Paraguayan retreat, while the Brazilians would mainly be kept in reserve. The preliminary bombardment began at daybreak, and Rivas left soon afterwards as his men had further to go. At 7 A.M., Lieutenant Colonel Garmendia found himself part of the left-hand column under Gelly, moving up the path at the head of his men. The bombardment had stopped, and with neither side firing, there was almost complete silence. There was no breeze, and already the early morning heat was suffocating. He was busily discussing with a major which of their officers might not show the necessary fighting spirit when, abruptly, a volley of fire from a Paraguayan trench crashed over their heads. Garmendia ordered his men to attack, and they rushed up the hill. From where he stood, he saw a captain at the head of the column suddenly turn around and walk away. Furious, he spurred on his horse and shouted at the man, "Where are you going?" Indignantly, the captain ripped open his shirt and showed a huge wound caused by a musket ball from which blood was pouring. "How could you have doubted?"17 he murmured, and fell lifeless to the ground. The Argentine charge carried them to the summit of the first hill, and the Paraguayans retreated to the woods and orange groves from where they directed haphazard fire at the attackers. From time to time, small units of cavalry and infantry would emerge from these thickets, and fierce struggles ensued, with the Argentines beginning to recoil. Not before time, reinforcements were sent in, and Garmendia managed to pull his men together to make a bayonet charge. The well-drilled units of his battalion were now breaking up, and the fighting on top of the hill was characterized by small groups of men, often leaderless, engaging with similar numbers of the enemy in desperate hand-to-hand combat. He saw a group of his men about to shoot a Paraguayan soldier, who seemed little more than ten years old and who, on seeing him, ran forward, grasping hold of his

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knees crying, "You are my father, save me."18 Garmendia did, and made him his assistant, although a fortnight later, when he was ill with cholera, the boy deserted, robbing him of valuables. Gradually, the battle moved toward the second summit, where Lopez's troops were drawn up, led by an officer on horseback whom Garmendia took to be Caballero. The Argentine commanders began to regain control of their men and grouped them ready to move forward, and at that moment Rivas emerged on the far right of the Paraguayan lines, so that the defenders could see that they were outflanked. The Argentines advanced, and, despite frantic resistance, including cavalry charges, the Paraguayans were slowly overwhelmed. After one such charge, Caballero regrouped his men, passed the brandy around, and asked if they would do it again. Cheering, they threw themselves once more into the fray, and even one of Lopez's serving maids picked up a sword and joined in the fighting. But their leader had fled, and they too had little option but to escape to the north as best they could. By midday, the Allies were in charge of Ita Ivate. They had lost a little under 400 dead and wounded, but the Paraguayans had lost most of their army. When it was over, Garmendia walked around the battlefield, which he described as "picturesquely sad."19 The story of the battle could be read in the quantity and positioning of the bodies—several hundred, where there had been an engagement between large columns, and then small knots of corpses where minor skirmishes had taken place, here and there among the groves and valleys of that beautiful place. The Paraguayan wounded, who had managed to be brought into the hospital, lay silent and uncomplaining, but it was not this that shocked Garmendia the most. For when he looked more closely at some of the bodies of the Paraguayan dead, he noticed to his horror that most were no older than ten or eleven, and that many were wearing false beards made of leather to try to convince their enemies that they were up against men. Lopez had left at some stage during the battle. Some accounts say that he went suddenly, without telling anyone where he was going, and Thompson reported that the men were now disgusted by his cowardice. He left through Potrero Marmol, pursued closely by a group of Brazilian cavalry who were only a couple of minutes behind, yet he managed to outpace them and rode on throughout the day toward Cerro Leon. Garmendia, and others, were critical of Caxias for not having placed a guard on the meadow, which was an obvious escape route; some even suggested that he had deliberately let Lopez get away so that he would have an excuse for prolonging the conflict and further weakening Paraguay, though this seems unlikely, for Caxias was by now heartily fed up with the war and longed to go home. At a stream along the way, Lopez stopped to eat and met with the war minister, Caminos, whom he berated for not sending reinforcements in time. On the 28th, he issued a proclamation, admitting for the first time that he had suffered a defeat but defiantly announcing that the war would go on. He called for reinforcements and volunteers to come immediately to Cerro Leon.

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Astonishingly, his call to arms was answered. In the days after the battle, a stream of survivors tried desperately to wade through the swamps and esteros to get to Cerro Leon to join up with him again. One of these was Lieutenant Guillermo Gonzalez, a battalion commander aged 16, who had fled with the remainder of his men and struggled with them along the road. They took days to cross the Estero Ypecua, some drowning, others succumbing to wounds or weakness or to the bites of poisonous snakes that lurked below the surface of the waters. The rain had caused the land to flood, and at times they feared for their lives from the currents of water, but they eventually managed to find canoes that enabled them to cross. Gonzalez was bleeding from three bullet wounds, into which worms had entered, as well as fever. What little food he had, he could not keep down, and by the time they emerged, stumbling, into the balmy surroundings of Cerro Leon, they looked more like corpses than men. Back at the Piquisiri, only the fortress of Angostura remained in Paraguayan hands before the Allies would have complete control over the river as far as Asuncion. Refugees from elsewhere along the line had been pouring in over the past week, and Thompson now had almost 2,500 mouths to feed but food for only 700. As soon as Caxias had captured Ita Ivate. a heavy force was dispatched to besiege the fort, and with the ironclads shelling him from the river, Thompson was completely cut off, with no hope of rescue. The Allies sent messages urging him to surrender and assuring him that Lopez had been defeated, and they escorted one of his officers up to the hill to verify that fact. Knowing that resistance was pointless, Thompson held a meeting of the men on 30 December, asking them whether he should surrender, to which, with the exception of one man, they agreed. That same day he marched his men out of the fort and handed over his weapons to the Brazilians. On 5 January 1869. Caxias entered Asuncion with the allied troops and declared that the war was over.

20 Endgame: January 1869 to March 1870

A month after the allied occupation of the capital had begun. Sir Richard Burton, the English adventurer, sailed upriver and entered the port. Like other observers at the time, he was horrified by what he saw. Although the city had been largely untouched by action, for the shelling had destroyed little, there was an air of abandonment and decay that was truly depressing. Asuncion seemed to be deserted, apart from the presence of the allied soldiers, and the few Paraguayans who had returned—mainly women—wandered like ghosts around the streets, scrabbling for food and begging. In the unfinished National Theater he found only a dead mule. The Argentines stayed outside the city, for Emilio Mitre wanted to keep his men apart from the Brazilian troops. He seemed to have good reason, for the main body of the Brazilian army arrived by river on 1 January, and in the days before Caxias joined them they indulged in a spree of uncontrolled looting. Houses were ransacked, doors broken down, and furniture and papers thrown into the street. It was said that not a pane of glass, nor a mirror, nor a lock was untouched, and the ground in the streets and the gardens of the houses was pockmarked with holes where the Brazilians had dug, following rumors that the Paraguayans had buried their wealth when obliged to leave the capital on Lopez's orders. There seemed to be no order, nor any desire among the senior officers to impose it. Indeed, there was a lack of such commanders, for Triunfo, Bittencourt, and Admiral Inhauma all died of disease at this time. Burton also found the junior Brazilian officers arrogant and strutting around like conquerors, while the men were often drunk and shamelessly begged for money in the streets. All

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connived at the despoliation of the capital. Steamers, loaded with goods looted from the houses, left for Buenos Aires, and the Uruguayan, General Castro, commandeered a whole ship filled with stolen hides and tobacco. Even foreign consulates were not spared, and Caxias ignored the resulting complaints from the French and Italian representatives. The commander-in-chief showed little interest in what was going on, for he was ill. He shot a few transgressors, but the looting and raping continued. On 17 January, while attending a Te Deum in the cathedral, he fainted, and it was decided to send him home. On his return to Rio, he landed at the quayside, unnoticed and unwelcomed, and a public meeting called later to decide how to honor him had to be abandoned as so few people turned up. It was a shameful ending for one who, with his energy and personal example, had done as much as anyone to bring victory to the Allies. Lopez, however, was more energetic. He now turned his attention to raising another army in his base in the Azcurra Cordillera, some 30 miles south-east of Asuncion. Throughout January small groups of survivors from Ita Ivate and pockets of soldiers from elsewhere around the country struggled in to Peribebuy. Among them was Major, later President, Escobar, who had a wound in his chest and both hands shattered by a bullet. When he arrived, Lopez invited him to sit down and offered him food, but Escobar, exhausted, promptly fainted. When he came round, Lopez, bizarrely, insisted that he remain seated while the artist, Parodi, painted his portrait. At the same time, patrols were sent out to spy on the Allies and to bring back those who had either deserted after the battles of December or who simply considered that the war was now over. Some of these were press-ganged back into the army, others were simply shot or had their throats cut, each according to the whim of the president. Centurion was appalled by the cruelty and by the waste of men, but Lopez explained it away by arguing that "the fatherland doesn't need its bad sons for its defense."1 By May, when the allied campaign resumed, he had gathered 18 guns and as many as 12,000 men, though these mainly comprised invalids, cripples, boys of 12, and old men over 60. Again, we can only guess what motivated him to continue this resistance, for he still had an escape route through Bolivia and could even perhaps have negotiated his personal safety with the Allies. Was it his arrogance that led him to believe that he could still win, and that if he held out long enough, he would be rescued by foreign powers—who were, it must be said, becoming increasingly disgusted by what they saw as the aggression of two large countries against a much weaker one? Was he genuinely the patriot who was prepared to defend his country to the bitter end? Or was he simply a gangster, an outlaw, and his army no more than hostages to protect his person? Now, more than ever, Lopez's concern for his reputation and his belief in his destiny, which were fostered by his upbringing, his accession to power, and the opportunities that these gave him for molding the nation in his own image, best explain why he could not surrender and why the conclusion to his adventure had

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to be dramatic. This might sound a strange statement about one who was always ready to flee from battle and leave others in the lurch, but his physical cowardice need not necessarily contradict his belief that he had been chosen as ruler of his country and so had a responsibility to see things through. During this time, while he was training his army and digging in around his new capital, Peribebuy, he seemed to become more philosophical. He confided to Centurion, whom he had just created an Officer of the Order of Merit, that he was aware that he could have become more popular in Paraguay if he had promulgated a constitution, but that he had learned from the lessons of the surrounding countries that such paper documents meant little but strife and turmoil. He also became infused with a desire to read, and for a week, instead of his midday siesta, he took to his hammock and struggled through Chateaubriand's Genius of Christianity, either "to distract his spirit or to shut up the remorse of his conscience."2 He also encouraged discussions among his officers. On one occasion, while talking about the harsh discipline in the Paraguayan army, he inquired whether any of them would have acted differently. Most of the officers, unused to being asked their opinions and mindful of the dangers of voicing them, wisely remained silent, but a Captain Calcena was sufficiently inspired to suggest that the marshal had made mistakes during the Piquisirf campaign. Lopez replied that it was not possible for him to have been wrong, to which Calcena, presumably forgetting to whom he was speaking, reminded him that only God could do no wrong. Centurion considered the captain lucky merely to be reduced to the ranks for a time. While Lopez was pondering, the Brazilians had begun to act. The Count d'Eu—Pedro IPs son-in-law and nephew of the previous French king, Louis Philippe—had been pressing throughout the war for an active military command. This had been denied him, ostensibly because of his youth and lack of experience, though also perhaps because Pedro did not want the royal family directly connected with a possible disaster, but finally the emperor gave in and appointed him commander-in-chief on 20 February. D'Eu had spent much of the previous year criticizing Caxias for slowness and ineptitude and had maneuvered behind the scenes to reduce his standing, which had probably done as much as anything to exhaust him. Despite his inexperience, d'Eu was probably a good choice, if only for the added prestige of his name and an abundance of enthusiasm that was sorely needed to galvanize a war that few people could see any point in pursuing. Since the question has been asked of Lopez, then it should, with even more justification, be put to the Allies. What was the point of going on? To some extent it is fair to say that the situation had to be resolved, for while Lopez was around, even if he were not in charge of his country, there would clearly be no peace, for he posed too great a threat to any alternative government that might be, and later was, installed in Asuncion. If he was left in control, then the whole war would have been without justification, for he would doubtless not have granted any of the demands of the Allies and would probably not even have

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guaranteed the safe passage of Brazilian ships through to Mato Grosso. Lopez was still relatively young, and his ability to control his country and to gather armies apparently at will, as well as his lack of restraint in international affairs, would have made him a danger for some time to come. More importantly, for the Brazilians in particular—and it was they who now were almost completely responsible for the continuation of the struggle—anything less than total victory would have been politically insupportable. The elections of 1869 were particularly violent, and d'Eu attributed this to the atmosphere of instability provoked by the length of the war. The archaic imperial system was under threat both from the emergent middle classes and from the increasingly powerful provinces, and the blow to the regime's credibility of any failure would have been devastating. The caudillos of Rio Grande, at least, could not have supported the continuing danger from Paraguay, and thus Brazil had to carry on to the end. It could also be seen, in letters from the government to Count d'Eu, that what those in Rio de Janeiro feared most was the return of the armies. These now consisted mainly of freed slaves, for whom employment would have to be found if law and order were to be maintained, and whose very existence as trained soldiers in a system in which their fellows were still enslaved was a clear danger. It was much safer to keep these men in Paraguay, first fighting and then, after the hoped-for victory, as armies of occupation. Perhaps it is too cynical to suggest that Brazil prolonged the dreadful suffering of the Paraguayan people simply to maintain its own outdated and anachronistic system, but it probably was a significant factor. On 22 March, d'Eu took over the leadership of the allied armies in Paraguay. At that time the Brazilians had slightly under 28,000 men, the Argentines around 4,000, and the Uruguayans a token force of fewer than a hundred. Relations between the two major armies had deteriorated during the campaign of December 1868 and became still worse during the occupation of Asuncion. Emilio Mitre was suspicious of the Brazilians, and the Argentine presence in the war was now designed to do little more than keep an eye on them and to guarantee a seat at the peace table when the spoils would be shared out. D'Eu nevertheless began by making the right noises and tried to involve Mitre as much as possible in the planning and execution of the campaign. He also issued an invitation to Osorio to return, knowing the importance of his reputation among the men of both armies. He reformed the army into two corps: the 1st under Osorio, and the 2nd under Polidoro, which was now based in Luque along with the Uruguayans and Argentines. He recalled troops who had been sent by the departing Marshal de Souza upriver and rethought the strategy that he was going to adopt against Lopez. Like Caxias, he proved to be a man of energy and consideration and made a point of frequently inspecting positions, talking to the officers to raise their morale, restoring discipline to the troops in the capital, and attempting to improve the

Cordilleras Campaisn, January 1869-March 1870

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supply service of food and medical equipment. On one occasion he boarded a ship carrying the wounded back to Buenos Aires and ordered four-fifths of them to disembark as malingerers. He also convinced the Uruguayans of their importance to the war and succeeded in preventing them from withdrawing their military forces completely. He sent out reconnaissances to find out exactly where Lopez was based and what he was doing, and by the end of May he had sufficiently revitalized the allied forces to enable the advance to be resumed. The winter campaign of 1869 was designed to encircle Lopez in his capital at Peribebuy by means of a two-pronged movement, with units from all three nations attacking from the north and the Brazilians marching around the Sierra de Azcurra and coming on him from the south. But already Lopez had shown his teeth in a surprise attack on an allied patrol, which had come to Tacuaral in March to mend the railway bridge across the river. While the engineers and soldiers were engaged in their task, the Paraguayans launched themselves from the bush on the other side of the stream on a train, on which they had mounted a cannon and a company of soldiers. After a brief skirmish, the train withdrew back into the jungle, leaving the Brazilians shocked but impressed by this unheard-of form of warfare. In mid-May, the Uruguayan, Major Coronado, was sent with a small force to capture the Paraguayan ironworks at Ibicuy, which was still turning out cannon and other war material. The small garrison, under Captain Ynsfran, was betrayed by one of its number, whom he had sent to spy on the Uruguayans, and so it was easily taken by surprise. Many British technicians, who had been working, mostly involuntarily, in the works, were now released, but a worse fate was in store for the Paraguayans, as their captors began cutting their throats, until stopped by their fellow countrymen in the Uruguayan ranks. Ynsfran, however, had been one of the first to die. The presence of Paraguayans on the allied side had infuriated Lopez ever since the start of the war. A Paraguayan legion, headed by two of his greatest critics in exile, Decoud and Iturburu, had been in existence since 1865, but the Allies had insisted that it be incorporated into their ranks, for they did not want any suggestion of the conflict being a civil war to which they were lending assistance. However, with the formation of a provisional Paraguayan government in Asuncion, the Allies now seemed to want to encourage the idea of a civil conflict, which, they hoped, would attract more citizens to the new rulers; they gave the legion proper military status, as had been specifically envisaged by the 1865 treaty, and allowed it to carry the Paraguayan flag. Lopez was outraged by this and sent two letters of protest to d'Eu in which he threatened to shoot any allied prisoners. D'Eu responded, but gave no satisfaction, and the presence of this contingent became a powerful symbol to those who opposed the dictator. The idea of a provisional government appears to have first come from the Paraguayans themselves. After they entered Asuncion in January 1869, the Allies had set up a three-man commission of Paraguayans to help them to rule the country, and in May these traveled to Buenos Aires with a petition calling for the

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formation of their own government. Paranhos, the Brazilian minister with responsibility for Paraguay, was very much in favor, since he considered that this would attract the attention of neutral countries, especially those who sympathized with Paraguay but who were unable to come to terms with the nature of Lopez's regime, and he hoped that it might convince them of the legitimacy of Brazil's "support" for the Paraguayan people. Varela, the Argentine foreign minister, was not so happy, however, since he feared that the Allies might lose their rights as belligerents, and therefore the Treaty of the Triple Alliance, which promised so much territory to his country, would not be fulfilled. The result was the Protocol of 2 June, in which the Allies consented to the formation of a provisional government on the condition that it fulfilled the clauses of the treaty. This satisfied all sides, and the following month an electoral college of 134 citizens elected a triumvirate consisting of Cirilo Rivarola, who had lately been fighting with Lopez's army, Carlos Loizaga, and Jose Diaz de Bedoya, to rule the country. On 15 August, this government took over, although there was never any doubt that the Allies remained in charge. One of its first decrees was to name Lopez a traitor to the fatherland. Lopez could now see that the opposition was in the open, and his reactions, and those of his supporters, became more vicious. He was aware of the vulnerable position of Concepcion, north of the capital on the River Paraguay, especially after he heard rumors that its commander was going to hand over the town to the Allies in return for the lives of its inhabitants. He sent Major Benitez to find out what was going on, but this officer seems to have been too enthusiastic even for Lopez, for he instituted a general massacre of Paraguayan soldiers and civilians, and on his return he was arrested. Equal cruelty was shown at Tupi-pyta by another Paraguayan officer, Comandante Galeano, who, on hearing that a nearby family was planning to desert to the Allies, ordered the mother and daughters to be lanced to death. On 30 May, the Brazilian, General Camara, caught up with Galeano and defeated him in a short skirmish in which the Paraguayans lost 800 men and 12 guns. Galeano fled early in the battle and hid in the bush from the soldiers of both armies, but he was subsequently captured by the Paraguayans and executed. While this was going on, the Paraguayan minister in Paris, Benitez, was making a solitary effort to end the war by diplomatic means. In April, apparently on his own initiative, he traveled to Washington—secretly so as not to alert the ministers of the Triple Alliance—in order to see President Grant. He was well received, but Grant informed him that since the United States had twice been rejected by the Allies in its attempts to end the war, he did not know what more he could do. Benitez urged him to try again, but this time together with Britain and France, and he went to see other members of the administration to press his case. He particularly stressed that Paraguay was a republic, like the United States, in danger of absorption by an empire. On his return to France, he requested an audience with Napoleon III, temporarily putting his republicanism on hold, and urged him to join with the United States. Napoleon noted that the

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Count d'Eu was a personal enemy of his family and indicated some sympathy for the Paraguayan cause, even to the point of expressing his hope that they would win. Neither leader, however, made any further moves to help end the bloodshed. Cerqueira had by now recovered from his wound and was serving with the army of General Camara in the north. He had transferred to the engineers and had moved up in mid-May to San Pedro—a typically dismal and deserted town in which he was billeted for a few days. The house that he occupied had evidently had wealthy owners, and somehow it had remained intact, but throughout the night he had to guard against bands of looters from his own army, who were working their way through the town. As he left the house the following morning, he marveled at a group of Rio Grande horsemen, resplendent in their uniforms, as they came cantering down the street. They stopped outside the house, dismounted, and pillaged it completely. Like others, he was appalled by the abandonment and destruction he witnessed in the towns and villages as much as in the countryside, and by the absence of normal civilian life. Nobody was planting or tending crops, and all the animals had been slaughtered a long time before for the use of the armies. The towns were deserted, for their inhabitants had either fled or been rounded up by Lopez, but what was truly shocking was the sight of the Paraguayan people, who presented an almost apocalyptic vision. They wandered along the roads, devoid of purpose, picking up scraps from the soldiers, emaciated and almost skeletal, dressed in rags, and often partly or totally naked. Their eyes, sunken through hunger, lay deep in their disease-ridden faces, and those who could not go on, simply died by the roadside and lay there, untended and unburied. The few actions that were worthy of the name of battles were a relief to the Brazilian troops, as they provided some justification for the terrible damage that was being done to the country, but these were fought mainly against boys, and officers, eager for some military glory, found little source of pride even in these engagements. By this time, the southern Brazilian column had captured the old Paraguayan base at Cerro Leon. It had been defended by only a few soldiers, including Major Rivarola, who had found few qualms in changing sides and in subsequently becoming president of the new government. After marching in torrential rain, the Allies came to a defile at Sapucai, where they were held up for some time by a small Paraguayan detachment. This was reinforced by Caballero and 3,000 men, who dispersed the Allies and captured several thousand women who had insisted on attaching themselves to the invading army for fear that if he found them, Lopez would cut their throats. On 22 June, another Brazilian column, marching from Concepcion, came up against strong Paraguayan defenses at the Pirapo pass, and Colonel Rosendo Romero and his men, weakened by hunger, were obliged to withdraw. Their counterattack, two days later, was courageous but largely ineffective.

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After their advance, the Allies were now in control of the whole length of the railway, which they repaired and onto which they introduced a train brought by river from Buenos Aires, which enabled them to establish their forward headquarters at Piraju. Lopez was not happy at having his prized railway in enemy hands, and he made plans to sabotage it. In two daring raids, Paraguayans laid mines along the track, and although on the first night these failed to explode, the second attempt proved more successful. July 24 was Lopez's saint's day, and he celebrated it by joining in the procession that carried the statue of St. Francis up the slope of the Azcurra ridge. His eldest son, Pancho, swore that the image inclined its head and moved its eyes, and Lopez, always ready to believe in good news, called his generals together to ascertain whether a miracle had indeed taken place. Divine intervention was about the only thing left to him, for the allied column was fast approaching his capital at Peribebuy, a small town set in a valley between the mountains. Over 10,000 people were packed inside, surrounded by a single trench, which in places was only roughly made and gave insufficient protection. Lopez had little more than 18 guns and 2,000 soldiers to garrison it, for much of his army was dispersed, and this was far too few to man the entire length of the fortifications. On 11 August, the Allies came in sight of the town, having sent one column around to the north so that they could assault it from both sides. The march to Peribebuy had been slow, not just because of the appalling weather and the hordes of Paraguayan civilians that insisted on attaching themselves to what they saw as their only source of food and protection, but also because the length of the road was covered with trenches, each with a small band of defenders who resisted the advance and then withdrew to the next one, so that the Allies had to fight for every mile of Paraguayan territory. This slowness caused a problem with food supplies, and General Joao Mena Barreto's column was forced to eat wild vegetables and fruits in order to appease their hunger. On the morning of the 12th, the allied artillery, placed on the hills around Peribebuy, opened up with a ferocious bombardment, and, at 8.30 A.M., 20,000 soldiers advanced from the north and east and south in relentless waves that crossed the river and swept through the Paraguayan trenches in little more than half an hour. The defenders fought back with a degree of courage that amazed the Brazilians, but the result was never in doubt. The large numbers of dead attested to the grimness of the resistance, as did the stories of Paraguayan women joining their men and throwing handfuls of earth at the Brazilians while others slashed at them with bricks and broken bottles and whatever else came to hand. Cerqueira was astonished to see an elderly Paraguayan calmly standing in the trench and carefully taking aim between each shot, as if on a firing range. Lopez lost 19 guns and nearly 1,500 killed and wounded, though he, yet again, had a remarkable escape. Nevertheless, he had to abandon his archives and much of his treasury and personal goods, including fine wines and tins of luxury food, as

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well as Madam Lynch's plentiful wardrobe and piano. For their part, the Allies lost fewer than 500, but among this number was General Joao Mena Barreto. The battle, and especially its result, came as a relief to a large number of captive foreigners who were able to surrender and escape from Lopez's clutches. The conditions under which they had had to live were appalling. Peribebuy was crowded, and there was no shelter to be found, so that some of the women were exposed so much to the sun that the skin on their faces was completely burnt and their lips oozed blood. They had little food and even less shelter, and most of them had to endure the torrential downpours and cold winter weather, out in the open in their already weakened condition. The wife of William Eden, the head of carpentry at the arsenal, had seen the veins in her legs burst due to the long walk to Peribebuy, while her husband had contracted malaria. People were dying of starvation and fever all around them, and they were continually drenched by rain. They were given some relief by Dr. Skinner and Madam Lynch, who sent them presents, including sugar, and tried to find them shelter. On the same day as the battle, the Brazilians had captured the Paraguayan arsenal at Caacupe. This had maintained its extraordinary levels of production throughout the war, turning out guns at the rate of three per week, much of this due to the efforts of British technicians. They were shocked, however, by the state in which they found the 70 foreigners who were still working there, It was, as the Brazilian army log related, "the most pitiful spectacle . . . women, little children and old men, whose only food was flour extracted from macauba palm, looked like walking skeletons and had reached the last stage of weakness and anaemia."3 The wife of Alonso Taylor had died, and her husband, the state architect, was described as "a miserable object, reduced to a skeleton and enfeebled to the last degree."4 Their 13-year-old son was taken, either voluntarily or not, by the retreating army. Lopez, as always, seemed undaunted and fled further inland toward Caraguaty, his men marching for three days and nights without food. He left behind Caballero, with orders to bring along as much of the army as possible. He ordered the general evacuation of the Azcurra Sierra and left the wounded in the hospital at Caraguaty in the care of Parodi, who was told to negotiate with the Allies over their good treatment. Two days later the Brazilians arrived and were at least able to alleviate some of their suffering. On 16 August, Lopez received news from Caballero that he was retreating, pursued by the enemy, and he sent orders that he should put up a strong resistance. He had a trench dug along the road leading to Caraguaty, which he filled with 1,200 men and 12 guns to cover his rear. He decided to leave that same day and entrusted the town to the charge of Lieutenant Jose Miranda, whom he permitted to surrender to the Allies but not to defect to them. With uncharacteristic sentimentality, Lopez told the young officer that one day he could lend important services to his country and so should stay alive. According to Centurion, he now tried to persuade the families traveling with him—at least those who were not suspects in the still-running conspiracy case, that they should

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remain. Some did, but many others opted to follow, either through fear that he would change his mind and have them executed or because staying with his column seemed the only possible way of obtaining food. That same day, Caballero was attempting to bring his exhausted troops, numbering some 4,000 men, across a stream in the large clearing known as Campo Grande, when the Allies caught up with him. The Paraguayans were in the worst possible position and had no wish at all to fight, but the precipitate action of General Camara gave them no choice, and they were obliged to turn their artillery around and make a stand. To protect themselves, they set fire to the grass and, under cover of the smoke, attempted to get more men safely across the stream. However, with their greater numbers the Allies were easily able to outflank them and slowly move in for the kill. Yet the Paraguayans simply refused to be beaten, and in places they actually managed to push back the Brazilian infantry. Caballero regrouped his men and even made a charge against vastly superior forces, which succeeded in turning the tide of battle to the extent that the Count d'Eu, arriving from the rear, felt it necessary to make a personal appearance at the front of his men. This broke the Paraguayans, who began to withdraw, under attack from the front and the side. After more than five hours of fighting, exhausted and on foot, Caballero left the battlefield with the remnants of his army. He had lost all his artillery, 42 carts, on which were most of his remaining supplies, and over 3,000 of his men. The Allies had lost little more than 400. The Battle of Campo Grande, also known as Acosta-hu, was Cerqueira's 23rd combat, and as a result he was promoted to lieutenant. It is often referred to by Paraguayans as the battle of the children, in acknowledgment of the extreme youth of most of their army. It was the last major action of the war, for the simple reason that Lopez now simply did not have enough troops to stand and fight. Wandering around the battlefield the following day, collecting bodies for burial, was a truly distressing experience. Boys, barely in their teens, lay almost naked where they had fallen, fighting for who knows what cause. Their desperate and pointless heroism greatly affected the Allies, not least the Count d'Eu, whose enthusiasm for continuing the war also died on the battleground. Cerqueira was sent to disable those enemy wagons that could not be brought back, and in one he found a young Paraguayan soldier whose leg had been broken by a cannonball, pale-faced and leaning against his ten-year-old sister. He ordered that they be allowed to stay where they were and that the wagon be drawn back to the hospital. When he returned to the site a few weeks later, he found that there still remained the detritus of war—equipment, bullets, shell fragments, even cannon, and bodies still unburied—but that now the field was covered in a carpet of bright spring flowers. D'Eu wanted the war concluded, for he now regarded it as little more than a police matter, and the Allies continued their advance along both fronts. On the 18th, while one column discovered the last six ships of the Paraguayan navy hiding in the River Manduvira, which were promptly scuttled by their crews, the

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main force came across the trench that Lopez had built on the road to Caraguaty, which was defended with the tenacity to which they had become accustomed. The result was never in doubt, but before the Allies were able to enter the town, they had lost 200 of their own men, and the Paraguayans had sacrificed nearly 800 of theirs and lost a further 12 guns. Three days later, in the north, another rearguard force was defeated at Paso Butuhy, and this time there was at least the diversion for Brazilian soldiers of capturing Lopez's personal carriages. Yet Lopez carried on. The journey into the interior, pursued by columns of Brazilian troops, leading along, possibly of their own free will, hundreds, if not thousands, of desperately hungry and weak civilians, has become known in Paraguayan history as the Via Crucis. It is aptly named, for the final months of 1869 were ones of unbearable, and quite unnecessary, suffering for his people. It is hard to feel much sympathy for Lopez, who responded to their loyalty with still more extremes of cruelty and who appeared, in his callous disregard for their condition, to be unworthy of their sacrifice. For the Allies it was a tiresome, inglorious, and thoroughly depressing job that they wanted to complete as quickly as possible. They, too, were not immune from suffering, for the land was so bare and devoid of crops and animals, and their supply lines so stretched and inefficient, that they experienced extremes of hunger. Lieutenant Silva, based in San Joaquin, felt the worst of this. After a desperate march to get there, across marshy terrain that bogged down the artillery and across spiky grass that cut into his feet, he found himself in a place that he described as like Dante's Inferno. Supplies were irregular and then dried up altogether, and soldiers were obliged to go foraging in the woods for food. Unaware of which fruits and plants were poisonous, several died, and others were forced to rely on a vegetable called caruru, which gave them terrible indigestion and diarrhea. They had to survive for over a month with almost nothing to eat—a situation that made them desperate and caused several of their number to take their own lives. D'Eu was aware of this and blamed the supply failures on the lack of coal for his ships, the lowering of the water level of the rivers, which made it difficult for boats to pass, and the need to give food to Paraguayan families who were also on the point of starvation. He wanted to bring his troops home, which is perhaps why he did not attend more closely to these problems, yet his requests to send men back were rejected. He was also under fire from the Argentines, who now began to withdraw all their forces from Paraguay. At this time, perhaps the only men who had any interest in keeping the war going were Paranhos, the Brazilian political adviser responsible for setting up the new government in Asuncion, and Looez himself. As the marshal withdrew further into the interior, the allied lines became stretched, and they slowly dropped behind, so that for a time his trail went cold. On 23 August he arrived at San Estanislao and ordered crops to be sown and cattle to be brought from Concepcion. as he felt secure enough to remain for some time. He declared Curuguaty his new capital and sent Vice President

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Sanchez there to organize the administration. He tried to raise his army's spirits, which were dipping as a result of hunger and fatigue, by promoting Resquin and Caballero, but he also grew more afraid that some of his followers might try to end the war by killing him. This resulted in the discovery of another conspiracy, which may or may not have been a genuine attempt on his life. At the end of August a woman, liberated from the Paraguayan prison camp for destinadas at Yhu, was captured near San Estanislao and confessed under torture that she had been sent by the Allies, along with Ensign Aquino of the presidential escort, to assassinate him. Aquino at first denied it, but he later confessed and declared that he aimed to kill Lopez in order to save the nation. Aquino was lashed almost to death but defiantly proclaimed that if he died, there would still be others who would gladly carry out the act. Colonel Mongelos, the commander of the escort, was brought before Lopez, who threatened him with death. Mongelos declared that he knew nothing of any conspiracy and added that it would be pointless to kill him, for he was young and strong and could still serve the country. Lopez demanded his sword and that of his second-in-command, Major Riveros, and ignoring the latter's pleas for mercy and forgiveness, sent for a priest to administer the last rites. He then ordered Caballero to surround the barracks of the presidential escort and to take 60 of them straight to the execution ground. According to Centurion, Lopez commanded the firing squad personally and then went and knelt in the porch of the church, where he prayed for a long time. On 30 August, he left for San Isidro, and at the Capii bari stream he had a few more of his escort lanced to death following further accusations by Aquino, whom he had so far spared but who now died in mysterious circumstances—probably murdered by his guards to prevent him revealing any more names. At the start of September, General Camara led a column in the north from Concepcion and on the 19th defeated a Paraguayan force at Ita Pitangua, resulting in the loss of 500 enemy soldiers. The following day he won another skirmish at Taquaty. D'Eu's column in the south had pursued Lopez as far as the Capii bari, seeing evidence along the way of the atrocities he had committed against his own side, before deciding to leave the pursuit to Camara and returning to Asuncion. By 23 October, the disparate band that was the Paraguayan army reached Ygatumy, where a workshop was set up for repairing rifles. Further north, Colonel Rosendo Romero was making brave efforts to bring his column, through forced marches and with the Allies snapping at his heels, to Lopez's camp. He may have decided that the effort was not worth while, and in any case Lopez suspected him of being about to desert, so Colonel Genes and Major Carmona were sent to arrest him. I he two officers came upon the column in a state of exhaustion, with wounded soldiers lying abandoned along the way. Romero and his deputy gave up their swords without a struggle and allowed themselves to be marched away and shot. A week later Lopez sent Genes a list of officers from the column whom he suspected of treason, and these, too, were executed. Genes

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took command of the small force that had been sent to gather cattle for the main army, but he found none; instead, his men had to survive on coconuts, wild fruits, and bitter oranges, so that when the time came, they were easily wiped out by an allied detachment. Meanwhile, Lopez was seeing enemies everywhere, even among his own family. He had brought with him, under arrest and guarded in wagons, his mother, his two sisters, and his remaining brother, Venancio. The latter had been put in the care of Colonel Marco, but he had been a friend before the war and had begun to allow his prisoner more and more freedom. Lopez noticed that his brother was walking around the camp and ordered him to be locked up properly, summoning Marco to give an explanation for his lack of supervision. Venancio, perhaps hoping for mercy, then revealed a plot to murder Lopez with poisoned sweets. Under torture, Marco also confessed, and he implicated his wife and Lopez's mother and sisters, among others. Lopez called together his leading officers, including Centurion, sat them down, and asked them what to do about his family. Vice President Sanchez was asked first, and he replied in typical fashion, "Whatever you do will be well done."5 Father Maiz, Lopez's confessor, was courageous enough to stand up for the women, and only Colonel Aveiro, one of the most enthusiastic prosecutors in the conspiracy trials, suggested that they should be tried for treason. To no one's surprise, Lopez sided with him, arguing that this would be the only way of honoring the blood of those who had fallen in battle. Marco was then shot. Also among the prisoners was a certain Pancha Garmendia, who had been a notable beauty in her day and who had allegedly spurned Lopez's advances. She had been with the other destinadas in Yhu, but Lopez sent for her, and the night before her interrogation, he invited her to his table without giving any indication of what he had in store. The following day she was arrested, and Lopez assured her that her life would be spared if she told the truth about her role in the poisoning plot. For two days she held out against torture, but when her cousin, Marco's wife, "reminded" her of the minute details of her role in the affair, despite her innocence, she gave in. She was taken, with Senora Marco, early one morning to the banks of the river a short distance from the camp and there was lanced to death. Her clothes were tattered, and she was thin and gaunt, with little trace of her former beauty. She was so weak, it was said, that the lances barely touched her before she died. The next to suffer were Lopez's sisters and mother. Rafaela joined in the general madness and confessed to whatever she was accused of and probably more besides, but Inocencia and her mother were made of sterner stuff. The latter, in particular, showed a degree of courage and integrity that she had so regrettably failed to pass on to her son. Unbelievably, he had her whipped in front of his officers, who either did nothing or, like Colonel Aveiro, joined in. She would say nothing against others, nor even against him. Who knows what those watching made of this spectacle, for there seemed no limits to the hell into

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which Lopez had fallen, and into which he was dragging the remnants of his people. And so the army staggered on, further and further into the interior, both figuratively and literally away from civilization. From Ygatumy they went to Panadero, and early in January 1870 they trekked still deeper into the jungle. The rains were torrential and seemed to fall without ceasing, and the route of the army could easily be made out by the bodies of those who had died of hunger, illness, and simple exhaustion. There were frequent desertions—men slipping away from the column, either alone or in small groups—but the jungle offered little food, and their chances of survival were slim. Those who stayed had to cut their way through the thick undergrowth with sabers and machetes, and by 23 January they arrived at the River Amamby. Sodden and hungry, they found a forest fruit that Centurion considered delicious, but it proved too much for his fragile stomach, and he and others were left with terrible dysentery. The following day was spent building a bridge across the river. Lopez stood on the bank, urging his men on with jokes and words of encouragement. His energy seemed endless, and his optimism, however unfounded, was infectious. At this point Major Azcurra, Centurion's deputy, deserted, but he was discovered easily by the smoke rising from his cooking fire, and he was brought back and lanced. They were now deep inside the jungle, and part of their route had even taken them through Brazilian territory, although it was so unpopulated that they came upon none of the enemy. On the 26th, they forded the River Corrientes by wading through, clutching onto a rope, though Lopez took the opportunity to show off by jumping in and swimming across. He, at least, had avoided the hunger and salt deficiency that was so life-sapping for the others, for his stocks of food remained plentiful. In early February, the column emerged from the jungle and came out into the broad valley of Cerro Cora. The exhausted army could move no further, and Lopez decided to set up camp. It was a well-defended position, and could only be approached from two sides. He left General Roa, with eight guns, guarding the pass on the Chiriguelo road to the south, and placed another detachment of several hundred men and two guns under Colonel Avalos at Tacuaras to the north. In the center of the valley he cleared some of the scrub, leaving a few trees for shade, and established his headquarters and general staff building in the middle, with carts drawn up around. In the second week of February he sent Caballero toward Mato Grosso to scour the land for cattle, for the food situation was desperate, and they were now down to one steer per day for 500 men. They were even reduced to eating leather, which, after being boiled several times, tasted like ham, as well as roots and wild fruit, all of which caused them to become ill and weak. Initially, there seems to have been no deliberate decision by Lopez to end his flight there and make a last stand. But the position was a good one, and he may have felt confident about holding out for some time; besides, there was nowhere

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else to run, for the Allies now controlled the majority of his country, and he had reached the limit. He had a choice of melting into the jungle and living like an outlaw or fulfilling his destiny and dying at the head of his army, as he had always promised that he would do. On 25 February, he called together his officers and sat them down on the grass in a semicircle around him. He was in a thoughtful mood and began by saying that it hurt him to hear rumors that he might flee to Brazil, for he had sworn before God to defend his country to the death. He spoke of the duties and sacrifices of patriotism and how so many had already given their lives that it was up to those present to honor them. As always, he managed to gauge the right tone for the occasion and mixed the solemnity of his message with a series of jokes against the Brazilians that caused hilarity among his listeners. All those present—including men like Resquin, who had followed him from the beginning—must have been aware that this was the end, yet Lopez had succeeded in inspiring them anew and in raising their morale, which had been so dashed by the horrors of the forced march from Peribebuy. As they left, they all spontaneously renewed their oath to their country and promised to fight to the very end. There in the valley, surrounded by the chain of hills behind which their enemies were fast approaching, the few remaining men of the Paraguayan army prepared themselves for the last battle. In truth, there is no simple way to explain what motivated the resistance of these men. Probably it was a mixture of fear, patriotism, and sheer desperation in different measures, although those who survived also admitted to the magnetism of their leader. Aveiro wrote that "no one can justify the despotic acts of Lopez, but the truth is that in his life, in spite of his severity, he was loved by the army and by the other citizens too."6 Washburn. in his subsequent book, took a different view, and he referred to "the terrible spell [which] held the entire people of Paraguay for two generations, and that as a flock of sheep driven by a storm will, heedless of what is before them, rush into a stream where they will all drown, so the Paraguayan nation all yielded, unresisting, to the remorseless tyrant, seemingly having no power to break the charm that enthralled them."7 Among those who no doubt took Washburn's side were the surviving members of Lopez's immediate family. Although his sons and, almost miraculously, Madam Lynch seemed immune from his wrath, his mother and sisters were not. They had accompanied the column the whole length of the trek, enclosed in their mobile prison and under a sentence of death, which Lopez had temporarily commuted. Along the way. Venancio had died in suspicious circumstances. Aveiro maintained that he had suffered a leg infection that caused his demise, but Centurion reported that he had been beaten to death by one of his guards, who had then disappeared. Now it was rumored that Lopez took the opportunity to confirm the death sentences on the three women as well. However, he did show some generosity and allowed any of the English who were still with him to take their chances and leave. Dr. Skinner decided to stay, but Nesbit and Hunter, technicians at the arsenal, left, together with the son of

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Alonso Taylor. Their fate is a mystery, for they were never seen alive again; it is supposed that they were murdered on their way to Brazil, either by Paraguayans who suspected them of deserting or by bandits from either side. The Brazilians, under General Camara, who had been dispatched to deal with Lopez, had found it more difficult to pick up his trail once he had disappeared into the jungle. They, too, encountered great difficulties along the route and were forced to make many long marches in energy-sapping conditions. By the middle of February, however, they had become aware that he was encamped in Cerro Cora and went in pursuit without delay. At 4 . 3 0 A.M., on the morning of 1 March, Camara's men came upon the defenders at Tacuaras, to the north of Lopez's camp; by sending a detachment around the back, they managed to take the position and capture the two guns completely by surprise, and without a shot being fired. Two hours later, women came hurrying into the Paraguayan camp with the news, and hardly had Lopez ordered scouts to go to assess the situation than the sounds of cannon were heard from the River Aquidaban to the north. Centurion found that the Brazilians had already crossed, and he rushed back into the camp to tell Lopez, who called his soldiers to arms. Five minutes later a squadron of enemy cavalry could be seen rapidly approaching the headquarters. Centurion ordered some men to lie flat and start shooting at the Brazilians, most of whom did not have firearms, and this caused them briefly to fall back. While his deputy fled into the bush, Centurion rode along the line of skirmishers, encouraging them to keep firing, but at that moment a musket ball struck him in the face, removing the teeth in his upper and lower jaws and cutting through his tongue. At the same moment another ball killed his horse. Centurion stumbled away and heard Lopez calling out behind, "Who is that leaving?" and Panchito replying, "It is Colonel Centurion, who is seriously wounded."8 Lopez's mother screamed for him to stay by her, but he replied, "Madam, trust in your sex,"9 and galloped off, closely followed by Brazilian cavalry. There are slightly different versions of the precise circumstances surrounding Lopez's death, but they agree on the essentials. He galloped toward a tributary of the Aquidaban, where over the previous two weeks he had often come fishing with his sons. Colonel Aveiro, coming up close behind, saw him surrounded by six Brazilian troopers and trying to take out his sword. He was aiming a blow at one of them, but the latter stabbed him in the belly with his lance. Colonel Silva Tavares claimed that he had offered £100 to whoever killed Lopez, and that the fatal blow had been struck by a trooper, Francisco Lacerda, nicknamed "Chico Diabo," though there was later doubt as to whether this was his death wound. When Aveiro arrived, Lopez was furious and shouted: "Kill these monkeys!" Aveiro urged, "Follow me, sir, and save yourself."10 They both rode off through the undergrowth and managed temporarily to lose their pursuers, but both were tired and the way was difficult. They were soon dragged off their horses by the branches of the trees, and Lopez, now weakened by his wound, called for Aveiro to lift him. He and

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another officer managed to carry the marshal across the stream, but they could not get him up the bank. Aveiro, by his own account, now stumbled further downstream to see whether there was an easier place to hide, but at that moment he saw General Camara appear on the far side and tell his men not to fire. He watched as the general called across to Lopez, but he could not hear what was said. On the evidence of the general and those Brazilians present, Lopez refused the invitation to surrender and tried to rise up to defend himself with his sword. In a supreme gesture—the evidence for which comes almost solely from the Brazilians, who surely had every reason to belittle him—Lopez called out: "I die with my country,"11 before being shot and killed by one of the soldiers. He lay, half in the water, his blood draining into the earth. Back in the camp, the battle turned into a slaughter. It is probable that Camara had orders not to let any of Lopez's government survive, for the Brazilians now set to with gusto. With most of the men either dead or wounded, the last stand was made by the senior officers and members of the cabinet. Foreign Minister Caminos was killed, as was the elderly Vice President Sanchez, loyal to the end, wielding a sword given him by Lopez. Colonel "Panchito" Lopez, his presumed successor as dictator of Paraguay, refused to surrender and remained guarding the carriage in which sat his mother and younger brothers. He engaged Colonel Martins in a sword fight but was dispatched by a shot from a soldier nearby. Madam Lynch rushed sobbing from the carriage and tried to drag his body inside. General Camara had Lopez's corpse brought back to the camp and allowed Madam Lynch to bury it. No one seemed willing to help, at first, and she had to scrabble away at the earth with her hands, but eventually some Brazilians took pity and dug a grave, into which they placed the bodies of her lover and her son. Lopez's sisters and mother had been released from their wagon; the former shouted insults and had to be restrained from attacking Madam Lynch, but his mother simply stood and wept. It is said that one of the Brazilian soldiers cut off a lock of Lopez's hair and handed it to Madam Lynch before she and her sons were escorted from the battlefield. Centurion had avoided the general slaughter. He had wandered aimlessly, bathed in blood, and while he was passing a straw hut south of the headquarters a woman found him and made him sit down. He thus avoided the fate of two Paraguayans who came running toward him, pursued by enemy soldiers, and who were bayoneted a short distance away. The soldiers did not notice him, and after they had gone, he stumbled toward a group of trees and collapsed in their shade. He was tortured by thirst and was obliged to drink his own urine. Later in the afternoon, a Brazilian soldier came across him and took him in. He was unable to speak and had to write his name on a piece of paper before handing over his Order of Merit. The following day, the Paraguayan prisoners were marched away on an 11-day trek to Concepcion, during which time his wound began to heal. From there he went to Asuncion, where he was made to sign a document condemning Lopez, before being placed in captivity on an

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allied ship, where Brazilian officers came to stare and shout insults. At the beginning of April he was taken to Rio de Janeiro. Colonel Aveiro, one of the worst of the torturers of San Fernando, fled from Cerro Cora but soon realized that he had nowhere left to run. General Camara found him, sitting dolefully by the roadside not far from Concepcion, and arrested him without a struggle. The general asked why he had not assassinated Lopez, since he had had so many opportunities. He also inquired whether it was true that he had personally beaten Lopez's mother, and Aveiro had to admit that it was so, but that he was merely obeying orders. The general remarked that he was lucky, since the lady in question had made a special plea that he should be executed when caught. There remained only a few groups of Paraguayans at large in the jungle. Colonel Escobar, in charge of Lopez's baggage train, refused to surrender or to believe that his master was dead and was prepared to fight on until a Paraguayan officer confirmed the news. General Roa and Colonel del Valle escaped from Cerro Cora but were later killed, though whether in skirmishes, or simply murdered after surrendering is not clear. Caballero surrendered, with honor, to a Brazilian column near Concepcion. On 17 March, the mother and sisters of Lopez were presented to the Count d'Eu, who treated them kindly and ordered them to be released. He invited them to a dance that he was holding that night to celebrate the end of the war. The ladies graciously declined—they did not, they said, have the right clothes.

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Conclusion: Securing the Spoils

The war might now be over, but the peace had only just begun, and it would be a decade, characterized by wrangling between the erstwhile allies of the Triple Alliance, before Paraguay could finally be left to its own devices. The problem for the Allies lay in the fulfillment of the terms of the treaty. It was now, more than ever, that—to the Brazilians at least—the folly of ever having signed such a document became apparent. In 1865, Brazil had been desperate for Argentina's help against Paraguay and had made agreements that it had ever since tried to wriggle out of, while still hanging onto the support of its ally without whose cooperation it could never have hoped to continue the war. Both countries had made claims on Paraguayan territory, but while the Brazilian one involved an area of land that was relatively small and relatively distant from strategic points, the Argentine claims were huge and would give it such an influence in Paraguay that it would fundamentally alter the balance of power in the region. Brazil had not committed so much to the war, in terms of money and lives, simply to give its rival precedence in the Plate region, and so it was now faced with the task of extricating itself from the agreement. As early as May 1866, Octaviano had been given instructions to try to get a renunciation by Argentina of its demands on the Chaco, or at least a revision of them. The Brazilian gambit was to suggest that the Bolivian claims on this area, already well known, would supersede Paraguay's, and therefore Argentina would be denied its prize, since the land was not Paraguay's to surrender. This informed Argentina, from an early date, that it could not rely on Brazil fulfilling the terms of the treaty, and for this reason, perhaps more than any other, it

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maintained its military involvement in the conflict, despite the grave consequences to law and order within the country. Once the war was over, the moment arrived that Brazil had been dreading; the negotiation of a peace settlement with Paraguay. This inevitably entailed a discussion of the terms of the Treaty of the Triple Alliance, particularly its territorial arrangements. The Paraguayan provisional government was now well aware of the falling out between the Allies and was not slow to play upon it. It realized that its best bet was, at least temporarily, to side with Brazil, which hopefully would mean preventing the Argentines from taking over the Chaco. In April it did just this, which caused the talks to break down and the Argentine representative to storm out. Negotiations were resumed in Buenos Aires, and, on 20 June 1870, a protocol was signed which served, more or less, as the peace treaty that ended the War of the Triple Alliance. In fact it resolved virtually nothing. It accepted that Argentina could keep troops in Villa Occidental in the Chaco, but also, ambivalently, called for the rapid withdrawal of allied forces from all Paraguayan territory. The question of limits would be dealt with later and separately from this agreement. This meant that neither side had achieved its territorial aims, and both allies were strongly dissatisfied and not prepared to let the matter rest. A major consequence of this protocol was that it now left Paraguay a nominally independent nation again and one that was in charge of its own affairs. Brazil was the quickest to realize that this meant that it now had a potential ally against Argentina, which would give it an opportunity to break with the strict wording of the treaty; so between 4 and 9 January 1872, Brazilian and Paraguayan delegates negotiated and signed four formal treaties, by which Paraguay agreed to virtually all the Brazilian demands, including a renunciation of the area of territory in its north-east down as far as the River Apa, which the Lopez family had tried so hard to retain. The unwritten—though presumably not unspoken—payoff for this would be Brazil's support for Paraguay's retention of the Chaco. Argentina, predictably, was furious, and there were calls in the Buenos Aires press for war against Brazil. Not only had its erstwhile ally broken the treaty, which clearly stated that none of the signatories could make a separate peace, but now that the Brazilians had what they wanted, they would doubtless devote their energies to denying Argentina's rights. While Brazil naturally enjoyed the effect of its coup, which in truth was little more than an act of treachery, it did not want to worsen relations with its ally any more than was necessary, for Argentina had moved troops into the Chaco, and these could only be ousted by negotiation or by war. Argentina, likewise, did not want to risk the latter, and so, as a symbol of reconciliation, it sent Bartolome Mitre to Rio de Janeiro to meet Pedro II. By November an accord had been signed which reaffirmed the Triple Alliance, accepted the Brazilian-Paraguayan treaties, and in which Brazil undertook to use its moral influence to help Argentina and Uruguay in their negotiations with Paraguay.

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In March 1873, Mitre went to Asuncion, and by May he had signed a protocol that confirmed the Misiones territory as belonging to Argentina but left the Chaco question until later. Mitre, in fact, privately believed that Argentina should be satisfied with obtaining land only up as far as the River Pilcomayo, but he was abruptly reminded by the foreign minister, Tejedor, that while the Triple Alliance Treaty may once have been Mitre's concern, the present situation was not, and thus he must fit in with government policy. Mitre now became sidetracked by the presidential campaign of 1874, which he lost; he followed this by leading an armed uprising, which resulted in his arrest and temporary imprisonment. In April 1875, negotiations over the Chaco between Paraguay and Argentina began in Buenos Aires. Brazil, as mediator, strongly recommended to Paraguay that it should submit the disputed territory—from the Pilcomayo north to the River Verde—to arbitration, but its delegate, Sosa, was seduced by Argentine promises to cancel its war debt in exchange for the territory, and on 20 May 1875 the Sosa-Tejedor Treaty was signed along these lines. So great was the outcry in Asuncion, however, that the Paraguayan congress refused to ratify it. In January the following year, negotiations resumed, and this time the Paraguayans insisted that the dispute be handed over to arbitration. This was agreed in the Machain-Irigoyen Treaty. On 12 November 1878, the United States president, Rutherford Hayes, chosen as arbiter, ruled that the disputed area was Paraguayan, and on 14 May 1879, the town of Villa Occidental in the Chaco was handed back by Argentina, to be renamed Villa Hayes in gratitude. * * * And so Paraguay ended the war with the loss of some 55,000 square miles, or a quarter of its national territory. Yet, however bad this might seem, it was still less than Argentina and Brazil had been trying to extract from it in peaceful negotiations in the first half of the century, and if the Treaty of the Triple Alliance did represent the long-term aims of those countries, then Lopez's resistance might be said to have counted for something. Nor did it eventually cost them anything in reparations, for each of the Allies subsequently canceled its war debt. These are not idle considerations. Judging by the turmoil in the Plate region in the early 1860s, it seems unlikely that Paraguay could have resisted for long the ambitions of its neighbors; sooner or later, it would have had to part with territory—and probably lots of it. It could be argued that the mutual rivalry between Argentina and Brazil would have limited this, but these two did seem to be cooperating alarmingly well at the start, and they seemed determined enough during the war to pursue their stated ends. It may not be too far-fetched to suggest that despite the huge losses of land and of people, Lopez had in fact defended relatively successfully the independence of his country. In response to the accusation that he continued the war long after it was a lost cause and that he failed to accept the offer of the Allies to leave, it should be remembered that at least until the end of 1868 it was not obvious that he was defeated and that the alliance would hold together, for political support in both

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Argentina and Uruguay had largely evaporated and Brazil's financial health was uncertain. Nor should it be forgotten that the Allies never proposed an acceptable settlement for his country, apart from the terms of the treaty. His failure to depart and stop further suffering after that date is, perhaps, less defensible. The war also brought to an end the half-century of turmoil in the Plate region, caused partly by the uncertainty over boundaries that had been left undetermined at independence. The borders of Argentina, Brazil, Uruguay, and Paraguay— with the exception of its Chaco frontier with Bolivia, the cause of another prolonged conflict in the 1930s—were now fixed, and in a sense the war had achieved something positive in laying this issue to rest. In retrospect—and although it was not acknowledged, nor perhaps even realized, by the protagonists—this may have been what the war was really about. Yet this seems a sorry justification for the loss of so many lives and the devastation wrought on the region. None of the warring nations had achieved their principal aims: Argentina was still without the Chaco, Brazil had no more security over its river route to Mato Grosso than that provided by a signature on a piece of paper, Uruguay had gained absolutely nothing, and as for Paraguay. . . . Even the land that the Allies took was of limited economic value or strategic purpose, and its effect on their societies and development hardly seemed to justifv the effort. Superficially, it might seem that the Brazilians came out best, for they had gained all the land they wanted and had, at least for the time being, won a preponderant influence in Paraguay—but they paid a price for it. The return of their armies did lead to social instability, as many had feared, and within 20 years the emperor had been deposed, the slaves freed, and a republic ushered in. The financial costs of the war were almost incalculable, and the economic crisis of the 1870s, brought on by this expenditure, had a crippling effect on the country's development. The railway to Corumba, built shortly afterwards, provided a more reliable link to Mato Grosso, which raised questions about the whole point of the war. The human cost, too, was significant, for even the lowest estimates quote a figure as high as 25,000 for the number of deaths, which rises to 100,000 when casualties from disease are taken into account. For Argentina, the results were more mixed. The war did bring instability within the country and provincial dissatisfaction, but Mitre's system of centralized government, and his liberal values, survived and were possibly even strengthened by the conflict. In terms of territory it had not got everything it wanted, but it had expanded and strengthened its frontiers, and it had gained some political influence in Paraguay. Financially, the country was weakened, though the extra demand for food did mean that the agricultural sector grew, which brought some indirect benefits. It is reckoned that the nation lost approximately 25,000 people killed in the war and in the internal disturbances directly related to it. Whether there was any effect on Uruguay is hard to measure. So limited was its commitment to the war in the first place that many in Montevideo acted as if

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they were unaware that it was even taking place. The country achieved nothing from the peace treaties, either in financial or strategic terms, yet the lengthy nature of the Paraguayan resistance, which caused the two great powers to revert from allies to suspicious rivals, could be said to have helped to guarantee its independence. For Paraguay, it was a far more terrible story. No reliable censuses are available from before the war, and even those from afterwards are subject to ranges of interpretation.1 No records were kept of the number of soldiers in the army, nor of those who died, nor even of civilian deaths, of which there must have been many. A recently discovered, though incomplete, census from 1870, however, suggests that there were 116,000 inhabitants left in the country by this date. Even if one accepts the lowest calculation for the 1864 population of 285.000, this still implies that more than 60% of Paraguayans died in the war—a figure that no other conflict in modern times can even begin to match. The census states that by 1870 women outnumbered men of all ages by a ratio of two to one, but those in the 12-50 age bracket by four to one. Even among those aged over 50, the ratio was nearly three to one. The impact of this situation on the subsequent development of the country was catastrophic. Not only were there few males fit enough to be economically productive, but also few capable of producing children. Inevitably more anecdotal than factual was the effect on the survivors. The country seemed full of refugees, as almost everyone had been displaced by the war, either on the orders of Lopez or by the destruction of their properties. Some returned to Asuncion to find allied soldiers billeted in their homes. They went begging for food from house to house like living skeletons, "some of them boys of ten or twelve years old, for the most part shockingly mutilated with bullet and saber wounds."2 Thousands of disheveled women wandered around the city causing scenes that were, in the words of one observer, "too shocking, too repulsive to think of."3 In the early years of the occupation there were 30 or more deaths daily through starvation in Asuncion alone, and the situation in the countryside must have been still worse. Paraguay was described as "a tree withered, scorched, blighted by a flash of lightning."4 Most extraordinary of all, it was reported that jaguars came boldly into the villages to prey on the defenseless survivors. As the new government started to get a grip on affairs, food began trickling in, supplied mainly by the Allies and by some charitable institutions that were set up to provide rations for the starving. People in Buenos Aires and Rio de Janeiro were willing donors at first, but gradually interest waned as Paraguay retreated into the darker recesses of their consciousness. The politicians squabbled, and coup followed coup as they struggled to come to terms with the new system of democracy that they had chosen to adopt. They amused themselves by passing measures that outlawed first the teaching and then even the speaking of Guarani in schools, which they regarded as a symbol too deeply connected to Lopez. And then, in 1875, Madam Lynch came back. She claimed to have been invited by President Gill, but no sooner had she arrived in Asuncion than the

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To the Bitter End

ladies of the capital flocked to the palace to make their protest. She was lodged in one of her old houses, in which she received a stream of guests—mainly those who looked back on the days of Lopez as times when the country had pride in itself. She had come to argue her case against the confiscation of land that she had extorted from those too weak or too fearful to protest during the last months of the war. She stayed less than a day. The presidential guard came to escort her back to the same steamer on which she had arrived, and as she embarked, she was handed the petition of protest by one of the ladies, together with a dagger. The degree of avarice and barefaced nerve that induced her to make the journey is almost unimaginable, but she remained convinced of her legal rights to the end, arguing them both before the Scottish courts and in a book. She returned to France with her sons and died there, almost forgotten, in 1886. Yet Lopez, both in history and in legend, lived on. It is over 130 years since his death, yet it might as well have been yesterday, for his figure looms almost as large over the politics and destiny of his country now as it ever did when he was alive. Within ten years of his passing, Paraguayan politics were divided into Lopizta and anti-Lopizta factions, the former headed by General Caballero, who was responsible for founding the Colorado party, which is even today the most influential in the country. In some ways, the greatest disservice that Lopez ever did to his people was the manner of his dying. For if he had been captured and had either been brought to trial or allowed to go safely abroad to enjoy his ill-gotten gains, it would have reduced the effect that his "martyr's" death was to have on his nation. Then it might have been realized, as in Tasso Fragoso's ironic reversal of his famous statement, that it was really his country that had died with him. But instead his last words have resounded throughout the ages as a symbol of defiance, and Paraguay has taken them to its soul. Subsequent regimes repatriated the ashes of Madam Lynch and built a mausoleum for her in Asuncion, not far from the Pantheon of the Heroes, where Lopez was reinterred in 1937. Pale imitations who have traded on his aura have occupied the presidency to this day, and his impact is such that he has bound his country to the past and prevented it from discovering a future where it can live in peace, both with others and with itself.

Notes

Chapter 1 1. P[ublic] R[ecords] Offfice, London,]/F[oreign] Offfice series] 59/[File]12, Henderson to Clarendon, despatch]. 21,7 Nov. 1855. 2. George Masterman, Seven Eventful Years in Paraguay (London: S. Low, 1869), p. 33. 3. PRO/FO 59/14, d.4, Henderson to Clarendon, 31 Jan. 1856. 4. Ibid., 19 May 1856. 5. George Thompson, The War in Paraguay, with a Historical Sketch of the Country and Its People (London: Longmans, 1869), p. 7. 6. Elisee Reclus, La polemica francesa sobre la guerra grande (Asuncion, Paraguay: Editorial Historica, 1988), p. 110.

Chapter 2 1. Charles Washburn, The History of Paraguay, with Notes of Personal Observations, and Reminiscences of Diplomacy under Difficulties (Boston: Cambridge, 1871), vol. 1, p. 472. 2. Richard Burton, Letters from the Battlefields of Paraguay (London: Tinsley Bros, 1870), p. x. 3. PRO/FO 118/24, d.25, Matthew to Stanley, 6 Apr. 1867. 4. Thompson, War in Paraguay, p. 38. 5. Juan Crisostomo Centurion, Memorias o reminiscencias historicas sobre la Guerra del Paraguay (Asuncion, Paraguay: El Lector, 1944-1945), vol. 1, p. 15

Chapter 4 1. PRO/FO 59/12, d.3, Henderson to Clarendon, 19 Jan. 1855.

240

Notes

2. Pelham Horton Box, The Origins of the Paraguayan War (Urbana, IL: University of Illinois, 1930), p. 53. 3. Box, Origins of the Paraguayan War, p. 168. 4. Anon., Paraguay and the War in La Plata (London, 1865), p. 24. 5. Luis Herrera, El drama del 65: La culpa mitrista (Montevideo, Uruguay: Barreiro y Ramos. 1927). p. 296. 6. Ibid., p. 373. 7. Anon, Paraguay and the War in La Plata, p. 29. 8. Milciades Pena, La era del Mitre. De Caseros a la Guerra de la Triple Infamia (Buenos Aires, Argentina, 1968), p. 72. 9. Box, Origins of the Paraguayan War, p. 209. 10. Ibid., p. 209.

Chapter 5 1. Thompson, War in Paraguay, p. 25.

Chapter 6 1. Efraim Cardozo. Urquiza y la guerra. Investigaciones y Ensayos. 2. no. 67 (Jan./June 1967). p. 145. 2. Ibid., p. 162. 3. Thompson, War in Paraguay, p. 48. 4. A. Rebaudi, La declaracion de guerra de la Republica del Paraguay a la Republica Argentina (Buenos Aires, Argentina: Serantes Hnos, 1924), p. 235.

Chapter 7 1. Washburn, History of Paraguay, vol. 1, p. 523.

Chapter 9 1. Juan Beverina, La Guerra del Paraguay (Buenos Aires, Argentina: Ferrari Hnos, 1921— 1933), vol. 2, p. 256. 2. Centurion, Memorias o reminiscencias, vol. 1. p. 287. 3. Ibid. 4. Thompson, War in Paraguay, p. 70. 5. Centurion, Memorias o reminiscencias, vol. 1, p. 272. 6. Ibid., p. 278.

Chapter 10 1. Beverina, La Guerra del Paraguay, vol. 3, p. 76. 2. Bartolome Mitre, Correspondencia Mitre-Elizalde (Buenos Aires, Argentina, 1960), p. 180. 3. Jose Ignacio Garmendia, La campana de Corrientes (Buenos Aires, Argentina: La Plata, 1889), p. 290. 4. Mitre, Correspondencia Mitre-Elizalde, p. 180.

Notes

241

5. Andre Reboucas, Didrio a Guerra do Paraguai, 1866 (Sao Paulo, Brazil: Instituto de Estudos Brasileiros, 1973), p. 5. 6. Ibid. 7. Silvestre Aveiro, Memorias militares (Asuncion, Paraguay: Ediciones Comuneros,. 1970), p. 35.

Chapter 11 1. Beverina, La Guerra del Paraguay, vol. 5, p. 70.

Chapter 12 1. Maria Martin. La juventud de Buenos Aires en la guerra con el Paraguay (Buenos Aires, Argentina: La Plata, 1973), p. 17. 2. Masterman, Seven Eventful Years, p. 128. 3. Reclus, La polemica francesa, p. 130. 4. Centurion, Memorias o reminiscencias, vol. 2, p. 23. 5. Masterman, Seven Eventful Years, p. 126. 6. Beverina, La Guerra del Paraguay, vol. 3, p. 344. 7. Centurion, Memorias o reminiscencias. vol. 2, p. 36. 8. Martin. La juventud de Buenos Aires, p. 18. 9. Beverina, La Guerra del Paraguay, vol. 3, p. 333. 10. Ibid., p. 334. 11. Mitre, Correspondencia Mitre-Elizalde, p. 226. 12. Ibid., p. 254. 13. Ibid., p. 235. 14. Reboucas, Didrio a guerra, p. 9. 15. Beverina, La Guerra del Paraguay, vol. 3, p. 480. 16. Ibid., vol. 5, p. 111.

Chapter 14 1. Dionisio Cerqueira, Reminiscencias da campanha do Paraguay, 1865-70 (Rio de Janeiro, Brazil: Tours, 1910), p. 135. 2. Centurion, Memorias o reminiscencias, vol. 2, p. 85. 3. Leon Palleja, Diario de la campaha de lasfuerzas aliadas contra el Paraguay (Montevideo, Uruguay: Imprensa el Pueblo, 1866), vol. 1, p. 263. 4. Centurion, Memorias o reminiscencias, vol. 2, p. 98. 5. Cerqueira, Reminiscencias da campanha, p. 142.

Chapter 15 1. Thompson, War in Paraguay, preface. 2. Ibid. 3. Ibid. 4. Jose Ignacio Garmendia, Recuerdos de la Guerra del Paraguay (Buenos Aires, Argentina: La Plata, 1889), p. 40. 5. Palleja, Diario de la campaha, vol. 2, p. 313.

242

Notes

6. Garmendia, Recuerdos de la guerra, p. 61. 7. Ibid., p. 66. 8. Ibid., p. 79.

Chapter 16 1. Beverina, La Guerra del Paraguay, vol. 6, p. 195. 2. Thompson, War in Paraguay, p. 172. 3. Mitre, Correspondencia Mitre-Elizalde, p. 343. 4. Centurion, Memorias o reminiscencias, vol. 2, p. 213. 5. Mitre, Correspondencia Mitre-Elizalde, p. 302. 6. Domingo Sarmiento, Correspondencia de Dominguito en la Guerra del (Buenos Aires, Argentina: El Lorraine, 1975), p. 87. 7. Mitre, Correspondencia Mitre-Elizalde, p. 315.

Paraguay

Chapter 17 1. Reclus, La polemica francesa, p. 161. 2. Ibid., p. 156. 3. Centurion, Memorias o reminiscencias, vol. 2, p. 213. 4. Washburn, The History of Paraguay, vol. 2, p. 152. 5. Centurion, Memorias o reminiscencias, vol. 2, p. 245. 6. Washburn, The History of Paraguay, vol. 2, p. 185. 7. Ibid., p. 195. 8. Nancy Brandt, Don Yo in America, The Americas, 19, no. 1 (July 1962): 43. 9. E. C. Jourdan, Guerra do Paraguay (Rio de Janeiro, Brazil: Imprensa Nacional, 1890), p. 117.

Chapter 18 1. Thompson, The War in Paraguay, p. 226. 2. Masterman, Seven Eventful Years, p. 303. 3. Cerqueira, Reminiscencias da campanha, p. 262.

Chapter 19 1. Centurion, Memorias o reminiscencias, vol. 3, p. 182. 2. Efraim Cardozo, Hace cien ahos, cronicas de la guerra de 1864-1870 (Asuncion, Paraguay: Ediciones Emasa, 1972), p. 142. 3. PRO/FO 59/27, Stewart to Matthew, 12 Oct 1867. 4. Thompson, The War in Paraguay, p. 289. 5. J. Krauer and M. Herken, Gran Bretana y la Guerra de la Triple Alianza (London: Arte Nuevo, 1983), p. 119. 6. Centurion, Memorias o reminiscencias, vol. 3, p. 209. 7. Cardozo, Hace cien ahos, p. 263. 8. Cerqueira, Reminiscencias da campanha, p. 286. 9. Ibid., p. 287. 10. Centurion, Memorias o reminiscencias, vol. 3, p. 224.

Notes 11. Jourdan, Guerra do Paraguay, p. 168. 12. Centurion, Memorias o reminiscencias, vol. 3, p. 226. 13. Ibid., p. 227. 14. Harris Gaylord Warren, Paraguay and the Triple Alliance: The Postwar (Austin, TX: University of Texas, 1978), p. 16. 15. Cardozo, Hace cien ahos, p. 278. 16. Ibid., p. 280. 17. Garmendia, Recuerdos de la guerra, p. 407. 18. Ibid., p. 413. 19. Ibid., p. 462.

243

Decade

Chapter 20 1. Centurion, Memorias o reminiscencias, vol. 4, p. 13. 2. Ibid., p. 28. 3. Augusto Tasso Fragoso, Historia da guerra entre a Triplice Alianga e o Paraguai (Rio de Janeiro, Brazil: Imprensa do Exercito, 1934), vol. 4, p. 327. 4. Josefina Pla, The British in Paraguay (Richmond, U.K.: St Antony's, 1976), p. 160. 5. Centurion, Memorias o reminiscencias, vol. 4, p. 119. 6. Aveiro, Memorias militares, p. 79. 7. Washburn, History of Paraguay, vol. 1, p. 470. 8. Centurion, Memorias o reminiscencias, vol. 4, p. 173. 9. Aveiro, Memorias militares, p. 102. 10. Ibid., p. 103. 11. Ibid., p. 105.

Conclusion 1. For a discussion of this issue, see: Thomas Whigham, and Barbara Potthast-Jukeit, The Paraguayan Rosetta Stone, Latin American Research Review, 34, no.l (1999): 174-186; and Vera Blinn Reber, The Demographics of Paraguay, Hispanic American Historical Review, 68, no.2 (May 1988): 289-319. 2. Warren, Paraguay and the Triple Alliance, p. 44. 3. Ibid. 4. Ibid., p. 38.

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Selected Bibliography

BOOKS Alberdi. Juan Bautista. Los intereses Argentinos en la guerra del Paraguay con el Brasil. Paris. 1865. Amarillo Fretes. Eduardo. La Liquidacion de la guerra de la Triple Alianza contra el Paraguay. Asuncion, Paraguay: Imprenta Militar, 1941. Anon. Paraguay and the War in La Plata. London, 1865. Anon. War in the River Plate in 1865. London, 1865. Argentine Republic. Archivo del General Mitre. Buenos Aires: Biblioteca de la Nation, 1911-1914. Aveiro, Silvestre. Memorias militares. Asuncion, Paraguay: Ediciones Comuneros, 1970. Benitez, Gregorio. Guerra del Paraguay. Asuncion, Paraguay: Talleres Graficos, 1010. Bermejo. Ildefonso. Vida Paraguaya en tiempos del viejo Lopez. Buenos Aires, Argentina: Editorial Universitaria, 1973. Bethell. Leslie. A Guerra do Paraguai: 130 anos depois. Rio de Janeiro. Brazil: Relume Dumara, 1995. Beverina, Juan. La Guerra del Paraguay. Buenos Aires, Argentina: Ferrari Hnos, 1921-1933. Box, Pelham Horton. The Origins of the Paraguayan War. Urbana, IL: University of Illinois, 1930. Burton, Richard. Letters from the Battlefields of Paraguay. London: Tinsley Bros, 1870. Cancogni, Manlio, and Boris, Ivan. O Napoleao do Prata. Rio de Janeiro, Brazil: Civilizacao Brasileira, 1975.

246

Selected Bibliography

Cardozo, Efraim. Hace cien ahos, cronicas de la guerra de 1864-70. Asuncion, Paraguay: Ediciones Emasa, 1972. Centurion, Juan Crisostomo. Memorias o reminiscencias historicas sobre la Guerra del Paraguay. Asuncion, Paraguay: El Lector, 1944-45. Cerqueira, Dionisio. Reminiscencias da campanha do Paraguay, 1865-70. Rio de Janeiro, Brazil: Tours, 1910. Chaves, Julio Cesar. La conferencia de Yataity-Cord. Asuncion, Paraguay: Ediciones Nizza, 1958. Fragoso, Augusto Tasso. Historia da guerra entre a Triplice Alianga e o Paraguai. Rio de Janeiro, Brazil: Imprensa do Exercito, 1934. Garmendia, Jose Ignacio. La campaha de Corrientes. Buenos Aires, Argendna: La Plata, 1889. Garmendia, Jose Ignacio. Recuerdos de la Guerra del Paraguay. Buenos Aires, Argentina: La Plata, 1889. Guimaraes, Francisco. A batalha naval do Riachuelo. Recife, Brazil: Arquivo Publico Estadual, 1965. Herrera, Luis. La diplomacia oriental en el Paraguay. Montevideo, Uruguay, 1908. Herrera, Luis. El drama del 65: La culpa mitrista. Montevideo, Uruguay: Barreiro y Ramos, 1927. Hutchinson, Thomas. The Parana; with Incidents of the Paraguayan War, and South American Recollections. London: E. Stanford, 1868. Jourdan, E. C. Guerra do Paraguay. Rio de Janeiro, Brazil: Imprensa Nacional, 1890. Kennedy, A. J. La Plata, Brazil, and Paraguay, during the Present War. London, 1869. Krauer, J., and Herken, M. Gran Bretana y la Guerra de la Triple Alianza. London: Arte Nuevo, 1983. Lopez, Solano. Papeles del tirano del Paraguay. Buenos Aires, Argentina, 1869. Martin, Maria. La juventud de Buenos Aires en la guerra con el Paraguay. Buenos Aires, Argentina: La Plata, 1973. Masterman, George. Seven Eventful Years in Paraguay. London: S. Low, 1869. Mitre, Bartolome. Cartas polemicas sobre la guerra al Paraguay. Buenos Aires, Argentina: Editorial Guarania, 1940. Mitre, Bartolome. Correspondencia Mitre-Elizalde. Buenos Aires, Argentina, 1960. Palleja, Leon. Diario de la campaha de las fuerzas aliadas contra el Paraguay. Montevideo, Uruguay: Imprensa El Pueblo, 1866. Pena, Milciades, La era del Mitre. De Caseros a la Guerra de la Triple Infamia. Buenos Aires, Argentina, 1968. Pla, Josefina. The British in Paraguay. Richmond, U.K.: St Antony's, 1976. Rangel, Alberto. Gastdo de Orleans, o ultimo Conde d'Eu. Sao Paulo, Brazil: Editora Nacional, 1935. Rebaudi, A. La declaracion de guerra de la Republica del Paraguay a la Republica Argentina. Buenos Aires, Argentina: Serantes Hnos, 1924. Rebollo Paz, Leon. La Guerra del Paraguay, historia de una epopeya. Buenos Aires, Argentina, 1965. Reboucas, Andre. Didrio a Guerra do Paraguai, 1866. Sao Paulo, Brazil: Instituto de Estudos Brasileiros, 1973.

Selected Bibliography

247

Reclus, Elisee. La polemica francesa sobre la guerra grande. Asuncion, Paraguay: Editorial Historica, 1988. Resquin, Francisco. Datos historicos de la Guerra del Paraguay con la Triple Alianza. Asuncion, Paraguay: Impresa de las FF. AA., 1984. Rock, David. Argentina, 1516-1987. London: I.B.Tauris, 1987. Rodriguez Alcala, Guido. Residentas, destinadas y traidoras. Asuncion, Paraguay: Ediciones Criterio, 1991. Sarmiento, Domingo. Correspondencia de Dominguito en la Guerra del Paraguay. Buenos Aires, Argentina: El Lorraine, 1975. Seeber, Francisco. Cartas sobre la Guerra del Paraguay, 1865-6. Buenos Aires, Argentina: L.J. Rosso, 1907. Silva, Jose Luiz. Recordagoes da campanha do Paraguay. Sao Paulo, Brazil, 1924. Soares, Alvaro Texeira. O drama da Triplice Alianga, 1865-76. Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, 1956. Talavera, Natalicio. Guerra del Paraguay: Correspondencias publicadas en El Semanario, 1866-7. Asuncion, Paraguay: Ediciones Nizza, 1958. Tasso Fragoso, Augusto. Historia da guerra entre a Triplice Alianga e o Paraguai. Rio de Janeiro, Brazil: Imprensa do Exercito, 1934. Thompson, George. The War in Paraguay, with a Historical Sketch of the Country and Its People. London: Longmans, 1869. Warren, Harris Gaylord. Paraguay and the Triple Alliance: The Postwar Decade. Austin, TX: University of Texas, 1978. Washburn, Charles. The History of Paraguay, with Notes of Personal Observations, and Reminiscences of Diplomacy under Difficulties. Boston, MA: Cambridge, 1871. ARTICLES Brandt, Nancy. Don Yo in America. The Americas, 19, no. 1 (July 1962): 2\-A9. Brezzo, Liliana. Armas norteamericanas para la Guerra del Paraguay: Gestiones de Sarmiento en los Estados Unidos. Todo es Historia, 28, no. 326 (Sept. 1994): 28-41. Cardozo, Efraim. Urquiza y la guerra. Investigaciones y Ensayos, 2, no. 67 (Jan./ June 1967). Fornos Penalba, Jose. Draft dodgers, war resisters, and turbulent gauchos: The War of the Triple Alliance against Paraguay. The Americas, 38, no. 4 (Apr. 1982): 463-479. Ganson, Barbara J. Following their children into battle: Women at war in Paraguay, 1864-1870. The Americas, 46, no. 3 (Jan. 1990): 335-371. Guido, Horacio J. Triple Alianza: La otra guerra; uniformes, alimentos y sanidad. Todo es Historia, 25, no. 288 (June 1991): 84-96. McLynn, Francis J. The causes of the War of the Triple Alliance. Inter-American Economic Affairs, 33, no. 2 (Autumn 1979): 21-43. McLynn, Francis J. Consequences for Argentina of the War of the Triple Alliance, 1865-1870. The Americas, 41, no. 1 (July 1984): 81-98. Reber, Vera Blinn. A case of total war: Paraguay, 1864-1870. Journal of Iberian and Latin American Studies Australia, 5, no. 1 (July 1999): 15^40.

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Reber, Vera Blinn. The demographics of Paraguay. Hispanic American Historical Review, 68, no. 2 (May 1988): 289-319. Warren, Harris Gaylord. The Paraguayan image. The Americas, 19 (1962). Whigham, Thomas, and Potthast-Jukeit, Barbara. The Paraguayan Rosetta Stone. Latin American Research Review, 34, no. 1 (1999): 174-186. UNPUBLISHED DOCUMENTS London: Public Record Office. Foreign Office Series, 59 Paraguay London: Public Record Office. Foreign Office Series, 118 Argentina London: Public Record Office. Foreign Office Series, 128 Brazil

Index

Acayuaza, battle of, 186-187 Alen, Colonel Paulino, 64,185; attempts suicide, 187; executed, 205 Alsina, Adolfo, 163 Angostura: defended by Thompson, 189,191-192,194, 208-210; falls to Allies, 212 Aquino, Colonel, 134 Argentina: background history, 1517; relations with Paraguay, 22-23; armed forces, 47-52; internal problems, 163,178; postwar negotiations, 233-235; results of war, 236 Argolo, General Alexandre Gomes de, 154,184,192; at Ytororo, 197 Asboth, U.S. Minister, 165-166 Asuncion: improvements to, 3; evacuated, 24,181; shelled by squadron, 181-182,196; occupation of, 212-214 Avahy, battle of, 200-203 Aveiro, Colonel Silvestre, 34, 84, 226; at Cerro Cora, 228-231 Ayui Chico, camp at Concordia, BBSS

Bado, Captain Jose, 188 Barrios, General Vicente, 64,163,174, 176,185, 205; and Mato Grosso campaign, 35-36; at Tuyuty, 119124,126 Barroso, Admiral Francisco, 86,100, 179,186; at Riachuelo, 67-68 Belgrano, General Manuel, 2,16 Berges, Jose, 14, 28, 30, 33, 57, 86, 205 Berro, Bernardo, 20, 27; resigns, 29 Bittencourt, General Jacinto, 198; at Ita Ivate, 205-206, 213 Blancos, 20, 30, 38, 43, 52, 60-61, 73; efforts to get alliance with Paraguay, 25-26 Brazil: background history, 17-19; armed forces, 47-52; losses, 236 Bruguez, General Jose Maria, 105, 113,158,175; at Riachuelo, 66, 68; threatens squadron, 70, 85-86; executed, 188 Burton, Richard, 8, 43, 74; on allied positions, 155-157; on occupation, 213 Butuhy (Mbutuy), battle of, 72

250 Caballero, General Bernardino, 145; and mobile force, 170,172; and 2nd Battle of Tuyuty, 174-175; at Acayuaza, 186-187; and December Campaign, 191,197-202, 211, 220; at Campo Grande, 222-223, 225, 227; at Cerro Cora, 231; surrenders, 237 Cabichui, 160 Cabrita, Colonel Joao, and sandbank, 103-105 Caldwell, General, 62, 82 Camara, General Jose Antonio Correa da: pursues Lopez, 219-220, 223, 225; at Cerro Cora, 229-230 Caminos, Luis, 167,196, 211, 230; envoy to Argentina, 38-39 Camisao, Colonel Carlos, 164 Campo Grande (Acosta-nu), battle of, 223 Canabarro, General David, 62, 74; criticism of leadership, 76-77; at Uruguayana, 81-82, 84 Canoe attacks, 182-183,186 Carneiro de Campos, Colonel Federico, 32 Carreras, Antonio de las, 28 Castro, General Enrique, 89, 210, 214 Catechism of San Alberto, 9 Caxias, Luis Alves Lima e Silva, Duke of, 173,175-176,178-179,181,184, 186; appointed Brazilian commander, 154; rejects peace offers, 164-165,167-170; advances to Piquisiri, 188-189; and December Campaign, 192,196-216 Centurion, Juan Crisostomo, 13, 34, 64, 66, 70,131,163,167,194, 214215; falls foul of Lopez, 92-94; criticises Lopez, 96,105, 111, 118, 156,176; at Tuyuty, 120; and Cabichui, 160; journey to San Fernando, 185-186; at Ita Ivate, 207-209; at Cerro Cora, 225-230 Cepeda, battles of, 16 Cerqueira, Dionisio, 88,156; at Tuyuty, 117-118,120,123-124,127;

Index at Sauce, 135; at Cierva, 180; in Chaco, 185,187; at Ytororo, 199; at Avahy, 202; wounded at Ita Ivate, 205-207; at Peribebuy, 220-221; at Campo Grande, 223 Charlone, Colonel: attack on Corrientes, 58; death of, 153 Chatas: at Riachuelo, 65, 68; raids on squadron, 102-103 Chodaszciewicz, Colonel R., 164 Cholera, 158,164,168,211 Cierva fort, 180-181 Colorados, 20, 25 Conesa, Colonel, and battle of Corrales, 98-99 Coronel, Colonel, 127,136 Corrales, battle of, 98-99 Corrientes: Paraguayan invasion of, 41-42; battle of, 58-59 Curupaity, battle of, 144-154 Curuzu, battle of, 142-144 Deodoro da Fonseca, Colonel Manoel, 109 D'Eu, Count Luis Felipe Gastao: appointed Brazilian commander, 215-216; pursues Lopez, 218, 220; at Campo Grande, 223-225 Diaz, General Jose: at Battle of Corrales, 98-99; and attack on sandbank, 104,110; at Estero Bellaco, 112-113; at Tuyuty, 119, 121-124,126; at Yataity-Cora, 132133,137,141; at Curupaity, 152153,156; death of, 163,172 Duarte, Major Pedro: crosses into Misiones, 60-62, 64; marches south, 71-72; at Yatay, 76-81, 84 Elizalde, Rufino de, 26, 42; and Triple Alliance Treaty, 45; mentioned, 73, 91,141,163; criticises Brazilian commanders, 147-148 154; and peace proposals, 166-167 Escobar, Captain, 194, 214, 231 Estigarribia, Colonel Antonio de la Cruz: takes command, 61-62, 65;

251

Index invades Rio Grande, 71-72, 74; disobeys Lopez, 76-78; at Uruguayana, 81-84, 86 Ferraz, Brazilian War Minister, 83, 101 Flores, General Venancio: and civil war, 17, 20,25-30,38,41, 60; motivation for war, 46; difficulties in supplying army, 57; relationship with Mitre, 74; as leader of vanguard, 76, 78-83, 91,100; march to Paraguay, 86-89,107; at Estero Bellaco, 112-114; at Tuyuty, 122, 124,126; at Sauce, 131-132,134136,138; at Curupaity, 140,144146,148,152 Francia, Dr. Jose Gaspar Rodriguez de, 6-8,14, 22,49,159; takes power, 2-3 Garmendia, Colonel Jose Ignacio, 121, 139,153; at Ita Ivate, 210-211 Garmendia, Pancha, 226 Gelly y Obes, General Juan, 87,184, 192; at Ita Ivate, 208-210 Genes, Major Ignacio: and canoe attacks, 182-183; executes officers, 225 Gibson, George, and Riachuelo, 68-69 Godwin, Henry, 7 Gomez, Colonel Leandro, 37 Gould, G. Z., and peace attempt, 166167 Hayes, Rutherford, and arbitration, 235 Henderson, C.A., 6 Hermosa, Colonel, 186,191 Herrera, Juan Jose, attempts to get alliance with Paraguay, 25, 27-28 Ibicuy, foundry at, 156, 218 Ignacio, Admiral Jose Joaquim, 154; passes Curupaity, 172-173; passes Humaita, 178-180 Isla Poi, battle of, 187-188

Ita Ivate, battle of, 205-211 Itati, battle of, 100 Jourdan, Lt. Emilio, and route through Chaco, 192 Kennedy, Commander A. J., 58, 95 Laurent-Cochelet, French Minister, 8; gloomy opinions of Paraguay, 92, 158,161-162 Letsome, H. G, 46 Lima, Colonel, 72, 76 Loizaga, Carlos, 219 Lopez, Benigno, 11; on death of father, 13-14; involvement in conspiracy, 181; executed, 205 Lopez, Carlos Antonio: character, 3; nature of rule, 6-9; negotiates with Brazil, 23-25; death of, 13 Lopez, Francisco Solano: character and background, 10-13,165, 214215; seizes power, 13-14; responsibility for war, 21, 26, 29, 32-34; and Uruguayan crisis, 25-30; control over people, 31-32, 41, 9 2 94,161-162, 219-220, 224; aims and strategy, 34-35, 60-61, 85,164-165, 167,184,189, 214; reaction to defeats, 70, 84,123,144,176; military abilities, 84, 97-98,124125,139,144,176, 200; accusations of cowardice, 110-111,120,131, 156,183,188-190, 207, 211; illness, 158; death of, 230 Lopez, Inocencia, 11, 226 Lopez, Pancho, 12, 84, 221; death of, 229 Lopez, Rafaela, 11, 226 Lopez, Venancio, 6,11,14; and conspiracy, 181, 226; death of, 228 Lynch, Eliza, 8, 31, 93, 111, 146,163, 181,183, 205; gives birth to son, 12; helps inspire morale, 98; courage under fire, 131, 209; trains women volunteers, 161; helps prisoners, 176,195,222; steals treasure, 195; at

252 Cerro Cora, 228, 230; returns to Paraguay, 237-238 Machado-Irigoyen Treaty, 234 Mallet, General Emilio, 109 Marco, Colonel: at Tuyuty, 122-123; and conspiracy, 205; executed, 226 Martinez, Colonel Francisco: sent to Humaita, 185; at Isla Poi, 187-188 Martinez, Juliana Ynsfran de: as ladyin-waiting, 12; arrested, 188; executed, 205 Martinez de Hoz, Colonel, 187 Masterman, George, 6, 8,12, 47,142, 159,187; mocks Lopez, 92-94 Mato Grosso, 48, 53, 60, 95, 216, 227; disputed territory, 24, 32; Paraguayan invasion of, 34-38; importance of, 45-46; Brazilian expedition to, 163-164 ; rail link to, 236 McMahon, General Martin, 203; journev to Cerro Leon, 209-210 Mena Barreto, General Joao: at Tayi, 173; at Avahy, 200-201; attacks Piquisiri line, 205, 208; killed at Peribebuy, 221-222 Mena Barreto, General Luis, at Ita Ivate, 205-206 Meza, Captain Pedro, 33; at Riachuelo, 65-70 Misiones, 44, 56, 235; disputed territory, 22-23, 39-41; Paraguavans move across, 60-62 Mitre, Bartolome, 23, 29, 32, 52, 59, 64, 89-91, 94-95,132,134,137-138, 167-169,176,178, 208; takes power, 16-17; opposes Blancos, 25-26; and Treaty of Triple Alliance, 38-46; assembles armies, 54-56; relations with Urquiza, 72-54; and Rio Grande campaign, 76-84; march to Paraguay, 86-87; relations with Brazilians, 99-103, 140-143; military capabilities, 106,129-130, 153-154; at Estero Bellaco, 112-114; at Tuvutv, 124,126; at Yataity-Cora

Index meeting, 145-147; at Curupaity, 150; and montonero, 163; negotiates with Brazil, 234-235 Mitre, General Emilio: at Sauce, 138; leads Argentine troops, 213, 216 Mobilisation: Paraguayan, 30; allied, 54-55 Montonero, 163 Napoleon III, Emperor, 12, 219 Netto, General, 27,130 Niederauer, Colonel, 189; at Ytororo, 197-199; death at Avahy, 203 Octaviano, Francisco, 148,166, 232 Olabarrieta, Colonel: at Tuyuty, 122; at Cierva, 180-181 Oribe, Manuel, 20 Osorio, General Manoel, 96,134,140141,143,164,169,192,194; relations with Mitre, 74,101,154; and Rio Grande campaign, 76-77; and march to Paraguav, 88-89; and invasion, 105-109; effect on soldiers, 114,124,157; Lopez targets, 178; at Humaita, 184-186; at Ytororo, 198-199; wounded at Avahy, 201, 203; returns to Paraguay, 216 Palacios, Bishop Manuel, 111, 123, 131; character, 14,157; obsequiousness to Lopez, 65,120; executed, 205 Palleja, Colonel Leon: frustrations at inefficiency of supply system, 5557, 75,130; at Yatay, 78,^80-82; on march to Paraguay, 87-89, 91; at Estero Bellaco, 109-114; at Tuyuty, 119,122-123,126-127; at Sauce, death and tribute, 133,135-138 Paranhos, Jose Maria da Silva, 219,224 Parodi, Diego, 214, 222 Paso de la Patria: raids out of, 96-98, 101-103; camp evacuated, 110-111 Paunero, General Wenceslao, 85; raid on Corrientes, 58-59; problems

Index with Urquiza, 73; joins vanguard, 76, 78; at Yatay, 80; at Yataity-Cora, 132; defeats montonero, 163 Pavon, battle of, 17 Paysandu, siege of, 32, 37 Paz, Marcos, 91,163; death of, 178 Pedro II, Emperor, 13,109,165, 215; constitutional position, 18; at Uruguayana, 83; hatred of Lopez, 147,190; negotiates with Argentina, 234 Peribebuy, battle of, 221-222 Polidoro, General: at Sauce, 134, 216; at Curuzu, 144; at Yataity-Cora, 145; at Curupaity, 148,152,154 Porto Alegre, Baron Manoel de, 106; problems with Mitre, 83,101,141145,148,154; at Curuzu, 143-144; at Curupaity, 150; at 2nd battle of Tuyuty, 174-175 Portocarreiro, Colonel Hermenegildo, 36 Railway, 7, 218 Ravizza, Alejandro, 7 Rawson, Guillermo, 101 Resquin, General Francisco Isidoro, 111, 158, 225; Mato Grosso campaign, 35-36; operations along River Parana, 65, 85-86; at Tuyuty, 119,121-123,126; at Cerro Cora, 228 Riachuelo, battle of, 65-70 Rivadavia, Bernardino, 16 Rivarola, Colonel Valois, 191, 200, 202; fatally wounded, 206-207 Rivarola, Major Cirilo, 203; in Paraguayan government, 219-220 Rivas, General: at Tuyuty, 121-122; at Curupaity, 152; fighting around Humaita, 186-188; at Ita Ivate, 210211 Robles, General Wenceslao, 78; named governor of Corrientes, 5759; activity on River Parana, 61-62; arrest and execution, 64-65 Robles, Lt. Ezekiel, 68-69

253 Romero, Colonel Rosendo, 220, 225 Rosas, Juan Manuel de, 11,13, 22-23; dictator of Buenos Aires, 16-17; intervenes in Uruguay, 20 Rosetti, Colonel, 149,153 Sagastume, Jose Vazquez, mission to Paraguay, 27-28, 33, 61 Sampaio, General Antonio, 121,124 Sandbank, battle of, 103-105 Sarmiento, Domingo, 153,163 Sarmiento, Dominguito, 54; death of, 153 Sauce, battle of, 132-139 Seeber, Lt. Francisco: at Tuyuty, 121, 126-127,130; at Sauce, 139; at Curupaity, 149 Serrano, Colonel, 198, 200 Seward, William, 165,195 Silva, Captain Jose Luiz, 224 Skinner, Dr. Frederick, 70,162; appointed doctor to Lopez, 8; and cholera, 158; treats Diaz, 163; at Peribebuy, 222 Sosa-Tejedor Treaty, 234 Stewart, Dr. William, 162,195, 203; appointed surgeon, 8; falls foul of Lopez, 92; and cholera, 158 Surubi-y, battle of, 189 Tacuaral, railroad skirmish at, 218 Tamandare, Admiral Joaquim: besieges Montevideo, 32; at Uruguavana, 83; failings of, 86, 100-103,116,129,153-154; and invasion, 106-107; difficulties with Mitre, 141-144; at Curupaity, 148150 Tatay Iba, skirmish at, 170-171 Tayi, battle of, 173 Taylor, Alonso, 7,13, 222, 229 Technical development program, 7 Telegraph, 8, 62, 111, 131,168,170, 184-185,191-192, 203 Thompson, Colonel George, 6-8,1213,25,29, 32,34,41, 62, 85,93-94, 111, 131,160,162,178; fortifies Paso

254 de la Patria, 105; background, 133; fortifies Curupaity, 145-146,148149; fortifies Tayi, 173; fortifies Fortin, 183-184; at Angostura, 188189,191-192,195, 207, 211-212 Torpedoes, 142-143,172,180,182 Treaty of Triple Alliance, 44-46 Treuenfeldt, R. Fischer von, 8 Triunfo, Jose Joaquim, Baron of: attacks Vila del Pilar, 172; actions at Humaita, 176,186; at Avahy, 200; at Ita Ivate, 205; death of, 213 Tupi-pyta, battle of, 219 Tuyuty: 1st battle of, 117-128; 2nd battle of, 173-176 Urquiza, Justo Jose de, 13; as president of the Argentine Confederation, 16-17, 20, 23; as supporter of Blancos, 25; dealings with Mitre, 39-40,43,45, 52,54, 141; profits from war, 57,114; and mutinies, 73-74, 87 Uruguay: background history, 19-21; armed forces, 47-52; losses, 236-237

Index Uruguayana, siege of, 77-84 Vianna de Lima, Cesar, 29; and breaking of relations, 33-34 Victorico, Julio, 40, 43 Villa del Pilar, raid on, 172 Villamayor, Colonel, 173 Washburn, Charles, 6,11-13, 43,131, 156,190, 228; intercedes for Vianna de Lima, 32-34; attempts at peace, 95,164-165,167; refuses to leave Asuncion, 181; and conspiracy, 203-204 Watts, John, 70 Webb, James Watson, 165,195 Whytehead, William, 7,12 Wisner de Morgenstern, Enrique, 7, 12,123 Yataity-Cora, 116,119; battle of, 132133; conference at, 145-147 Yatay, battle of, 78-81 Yegros, Captain Fulgencio, 2-3 Ytororo, battle of, 197-199

About the Author CHRIS LEUCHARS is Head of History at the Hinchingbrooke School, Huntingdon, United Kingdom.