Not a single medical man would leave France in response to the call of the Paris delegate for volunteers to accompany him. Were they all Republicans? Did they fear that Belcha might take a fancy to their probes and forcipes? Or did they look upon the big battles and tremendous lists of casualties in this most uncivil of civil wars as illustrations of a great cry and little wool? If the latter was their notion, they were right. Three days after this serious engagement, I learned the particulars of what had taken place. General Loma, a brigadier under Sanchez Bregua, with a column of 1,500 men, came out from San Sebastian to cover a working-party while they were endeavouring to throw up a redoubt for his guns on an eminence between Irun and Oyarzun, so as to put an end to the tussle over the possession of the latter hamlet, which was a perpetual bone of contention. The Carlists fired upon him from behind the rocks in a gorge to which he had committed himself, but were outnumbered. Word was sent to the cabecilla, Martinez, at Lesaca, and he arrived with reinforcements at the double, and encompassed Loma with such a cloud of sulphurous smoke that the Republicans had to fall back upon San Sebastian. The casualties in this Homeric combat were not appalling; there was more gunpowder than blood expended. The losses on the Republican side were one killed and fifteen wounded. On the Carlist side they were less, for the Carlists kept under cover of the fern and furze. But then it must be considered that the firing only lasted nine hours!
Don Carlos was not slow in calling the printing-press to his aid. One of his first acts after his entry into his dominions was to start an official gazette, El Cuartel Real, the first number of which is before me as I write. I have seen queer papers in my travels, from the Bugler, a regimental record brought out by the 68th Light Infantry in Burmah, to the Fiji Times, and the Epitaph, the leading organ of Tombstone City, in the territory of Arizona; but this assuredly was the queerest. It was published by Cristóbal Perez, on the summit of Peña de la Plata, a Pyrenean peak. There might be less acceptable reading than a résumé of its contents.
El Cuartel Real does not impose by its magnitude. It is about one-eighth the size of a London daily journal; but if it is not great by quantity it is by quality. Over the three columns of the opening page figure the three watchwords of the Royal cause, "God, Country, King." The paragraph which has the post of honour is headed "Oficial," and has in it a flavour of the Court Newsman. Here it is as it appears in the original, boldly imprinted in black type:
"S. M. el Rey (q.D.g.) continúa sin novedad al frente de su leal y valiente ejército.
"S. M. la Reina y sus augustos hijos continúan tambien sin novedad en su importante salud."
As it is not vouchsafed to everyone to understand Castilian, I may as well give a rough translation, which read herewith:
"His Majesty the King (whom God guard) continues without change at the front of his loyal and valiant army.
"Her Majesty the Queen and her august children also continue without alteration in their precious health."
Then El Cuartel Real appends what takes the place of its leading article—a reproduction of a letter from Don Carlos to his "august brother," Don Alfonso, setting forth the principles on which he appeals for Spanish support. This document is so important that I must return to it anon. Then comes a circular from the "Real Junta Gubernativa del Reino de Navarra," in session at Vera. The purport of this, epitomized in a sentence, is to raise money. Next, we arrive at the "Seccion Oficial," the most important paragraph of which announces that the Chief, Merendon, has inaugurated a Carlist movement in Toledo, with a well-armed force, exceeding 280 men—to wit, 150 horsemen and 130 infantry—and that he hopes shortly to gather numerous recruits. The "Seccion de Noticias" makes up the body of the paper, and is richer in information. We are told that the most excellent and illustrious Bishop of Urgel, accompanied by several sacerdotal and other dignitaries, arrived in the town of Urdaniz, at half-past seven on the previous Wednesday evening. His Lordship rested a night in the house of the Vicar, and left the following morning, escorted by his friend and host, the said Vicar, Brigadier Gamundi, and Colonel D. Fermin Irribarren, veterans of the Carlist army, for Elisondo. From that the prelate was reported to have started to headquarters, "to salute the King of Spain, august representative of the Christian monarchy, which is the only plank of safety in the shipwreck of the country."
The Cuartel Real warmly congratulates the Bishop on the fact of his having come to the conviction that "the present war is a religious war, and on that account eminently social"—(social in Spanish must have some peculiar shade of meaning unknown to strangers, for otherwise there is no sequence here)—and proceeds to speak with an eloquence that recalls that wretched Republican, Castelar, of the standard of faith in which resides Spanish honour and—here come two words that puzzle me, la hidalguia y la caballerosidad; but I suppose they mean nobility and chivalry, and everything of that kind. The next notice in the royal gazette is purely military, and makes known that the siege of the important town of Oyarzun has begun. "On the 20th the batteries opened fire, and, according to report, the enemy had one hundred men hors de combat." The batteries! There is a touch of genius in that phrase. Reading it, one would imagine that the Royalists had a royal regiment of artillery, and that eight pieces of cannon, at the very least, played upon the unfortunate Oyarzun. A jennet with a 4-pounder at its heels would be a more correct representation of the strength of the Carlist ordnance.