The town of Nueva Barcelona was founded in 1637 by Juan Urpin, at a spot some two leagues distant from its present site.
In 1671, in order to terminate the frequent quarrels between its inhabitants and those of a neighbouring settlement, Cumanagoto, the Governor, Angelo, united the two populations at the spot where Barcelona now stands. This shifting of towns and villages at the order of a Governor, or even a priest, was not uncommon in the colony in the early days.
Towards the end of the eighteenth century Barcelona grew considerably in importance. There was a large and growing demand in the Antilles, especially in Cuba, for meat to feed the slaves on the plantations and for horses and mules. The journey from the River Plate in sailing-ships was a very long one, and the Cuba merchants preferred to get their goods from the north coast. Barcelona’s position at the point where the llanos extend right to the coast, and where consequently there are no mountains to cross, gave her a big advantage over Cumaná and other seaports, and her trade and population grew rapidly. From 1790 to 1800 her population grew from 10,000 to 16,000. But it was in adversity that Barcelona was to become famous, and in 1817 she gained a crown of martyrdom, becoming the scene of one of the most tragic events in the history of South American independence.
Bolivar, after several encounters with the royalists in February, had left Barcelona to beat up recruits. The Captain-General, Juan de Aldama, having failed to intercept him, turned eastward to the doomed city, where he was joined by some troops from Cumaná and by some vessels of the fleet, which provided him with guns. A devoted band, consisting chiefly of Venezuelans, with some Colombians and a few foreigners, in all 600-700 fighting men, and some 300 civilians, women, and children, determined to resist to the last, and prepared to defend the convent of San Francisco, better known to history as the Casa Fuerte, which stands in an open space in the town.
Aldama’s sharpshooters having cleared the town, he invested the convent, placing ordnance on two sides of it and stationing troops on the far sides to prevent the escape of the garrison. He then invited the patriots to capitulate, promising to spare their lives, but they refused, and at dawn of April 10th he began the bombardment.
The Casa Fuerte was not strong enough to withstand his artillery, and at two in the afternoon a large breach had been effected. The royalists charged from cover across the open space round the convent, and a desperate fight ensued, the Venezuelans selling their lives very dearly. The walls of the room in which the last of the patriots died are still standing, and the stones are deeply scored all over from the blows of the weapons of men fighting in a confined space.
Aldama states in his official report to the King that he invited the garrison to capitulate before the bombardment, with a view to avoiding any unnecessary bloodshed and to demonstrate his Majesty’s clemency, but any humane intentions seem to have deserted the royalists during the day, for, not content with annihilating the combatants, who disdained to ask for quarter, nearly all the women and children were outraged and murdered. It is even said that Aldama gave orders to have the sick in the hospital butchered, but the officer to whom this task was deputed would not carry out his instructions. A few individuals escaped, fighting as they went.
The military and civil Governors of Barcelona, General Pedro Maria Freites and Colonel Francisco Esteban Rivas, were taken wounded and prisoners to Carácas, and there shot on April 17th.
In connection with the centenary celebrations this year, 1911, an interesting little booklet has been written by the historian M. L. Rosales, and officially published by the President of Anzoátegui, General A. Rolando, giving the accounts of the affair by Aldama on the one hand and by General D. F. O’Leary on the other.
Most of the victims’ names are lost, but the historian has collected some seventy-seven, six of whom were priests and eighteen women. Among them we may note one Carlos Chamberlain, of Jamaica, a colonel in the Republican Army, and his mother, Doña Eulalia. Another lady, Doña Juana de Jesus Rojas, died of seven bayonet wounds, while the last on the list is a little girl, Dolores Rodriguez, only four months old, who had a hand cut off, but survived and died in Carácas as lately as 1898.