The protest against the calling out of the reservists—the greatest error of the many committed by the Government at that time—was said to have been engineered by the Carlists. It was not spontaneous and found no real echo in the feeling of the nation.
The next step was to proclaim a general strike, but even then there was so little idea among the working classes that anything like violence was intended, that women and children strolled out to the meeting-place as for an outing, with the men who were unconsciously being led into action which was to brand them as revolutionaries and assassins.
To this day no one has been able to say how or why the rioting began. The only thing clear is that the great majority of the strikers expected and intended to proceed peaceably to formulate their demands, although no one knows exactly what these were to be, for no formal report of the strikers’ complaints, or even of the factories they worked in, has ever been published.
The Civil Governor, Señor Osorio, objected to the calling out of the troops, and fell into permanent disgrace with Maura and his Cabinet for saying that but for the undue harshness employed by the military authorities, the rising would never have attained serious proportions. He was dismissed from his post—perhaps inevitably, since he had not foreseen events. It is worth noting that the week before the riots the Government had expressed themselves as perfectly satisfied with the tranquil condition of Barcelona under Señor Osorio, and had withdrawn most of the troops in garrison in the province.
Meanwhile the Ultramontane Press never wearied of repeating blood-curdling tales of the awful scenes of carnage, rapine, and sacrilege, brought about by the teaching given in the lay schools, a hundred of which, they said, Maura had been compelled to close in order to put an end to a system of education which produced such horrors: and since the Opposition newspapers were not allowed to publish a line without the sanction of Señor La Cierva, the Minister of the Interior, the nation, had it read the Ultramontane papers, would have supped its fill of uncontradicted libels upon the working people of Cataluña. But the nation does not read the Ultramontane papers. The Press of that party, indeed, admits the exiguousness of its circulation by pathetic appeals to the faithful to furnish money for the propaganda which in Ultramontane opinion constitutes the only hope of arresting the crimes born of the instruction given in the lay schools, and fostered by the seditious labours of the Liberal. But although the people closed their ears to the fulminations of the Church papers, the hand of the Church lay heavy on all Spain in 1909, for the continual reports of bombs and arrests, and the whispered tales of the secret drilling and arming of “good Catholics,” kept everybody on the rack, fearing they knew not what. The slow progress of the campaign in Melilla, the constant arrival of shiploads of sick and wounded, and the impossibility of obtaining trustworthy news of what was really going on, filled the cup of anxiety, and every one was in low spirits, for every family had friends or relatives in the war.
Meanwhile Don Jaime, in his castle of Frohsdorf, was occupied in editing a verbose document which he published later on, addressed “to those loyal to me.” The gist of this was that as long as Spain was engaged in war he would make no move, but that when the flag waved victorious he would remember that he had to fulfil unavoidable duties imposed by his birth. “And,” said he, “social order, shaken by the revolution, is tottering to its foundations. And this not so much from the attack of anarchical crowds as from the cowardice of the powers who make compact with them, delivering themselves as hostages in order to save their life and property. In the violent struggle which is approaching between civilisation and barbarism I yield to no one the first place in the vanguard in the fight for society and the country.”
Curiously enough, an incident in which the nation at large took very little interest nearly proved the last straw. This was the execution of Ferrer.
Everything had been done beforehand to excite the public over the affair. Columns upon columns of matter prejudging the case had filled the Ultramontane Press for weeks, while the Sociedad Editorial and the republican Pais were accused of complicity with the prisoner because they pointed out that the publication of incriminating documents alleged to have been found in his house, before the Court had pronounced them genuine, was contrary to all the principles of justice. In Republican and Socialist circles this action on the part of the Government—for copies of the documents in question were sent to the Press by persons in Government employ—produced the indignation that might be expected—indignation that probably was counted upon to bring about an outbreak of violence. But the mass of the people, thanks to their lack of education, knew and cared very little about Ferrer and his alleged offences against society.
While all Europe was excited about the fate of the founder of the lay schools, the Spanish people, believed abroad to be seething with anarchy and sedition, were peaceably if dispiritedly pursuing their usual avocations, only interested in Ferrer, if they took any interest in him at all, as another victim of the tyranny of the Church, whose “tool,” as they call Maura, had brought Spain so low.
This was because the Sociedad Editorial, and especially the Liberal, laboured as indefatigably to keep the temper of the people within bounds as their opponents on the Ultramontane press laboured to produce irritation. At one period in the protracted controversy I wondered whether the editors or staff of the Sociedad Editorial could actually be unaware of the lies spread broadcast concerning the political party for which they stand, so temperate in quality and so limited in quantity were their comments on the foreign campaign against the honour of the Spanish nation. But I soon came to understand that it was not ignorance of what was going on, although the Censorship used all its wits to keep foreign newspapers out of the Liberal-Monarchist newspaper offices. It was the deliberate policy of the wise and far-sighted Liberal-Monarchist party to keep their working-class readers in the dark about the Ferrer incident, because they knew that if the mass of the people became aware of the attack upon their honour, a civil war between the Ultramontanes and the people would have broken out within a week.