The last raid on Bahía Blanca
In the early morning of May 19, 1859, Bahía Blanca was invaded by three thousand spears belonging to the cacique Calfucurá, in what meant the last great raid.Oscar Fernando Larrosa
Calfucurá is believed to have orchestrated this raid, known as a malón in Spanish—a tactic commonly used by the Araucanian people during their incursions into colonial settlements. The attack was likely motivated by the recent death of his son-in-law, Yanquetruz, who had been killed in a hardware and bar store in Bahía Blanca.
Argentine Protective Fortress
1- Drawbridge, gate
2- Guardhouse
3- Commandancy
4- Commander’s House, Headquarters
5- Officers' Quarters
6- Non-commissioned Officers' Quarters
7- Warehouse
8- Troop Barracks
9- Powder Magazine
10- Officers' Villa
11- Corral
The notorious cacique Yanquetruz gained infamy for his brutal raids, which involved murder and the looting of captives and cattle, later sold in Chile. To grasp the scale of these Pampas pirates' operations, consider that just four years earlier, during a raid in the Tandil region, they rustled 20,000 cattle and took numerous captives, leaving a trail of death and devastation in their wake.
Around 1857, Yanquetruz negotiated a peace treaty with the Army, pledging to end his raiding activities. However, his reputation for reckless, alcohol-fueled binges—often leading to violence and bloodshed—persisted.
During one such drunken episode at Silva’s hardware store, near the Argentine Protective Fortress in Bahía Blanca, a violent brawl broke out. In the chaos, National Guard officer Jacinto Méndez fatally stabbed Yanquetruz.
The Return of the Malon: Painting by Angel Della Valle
Calfucurá's deep-seated animosity toward Yanquetruz led to multiple confrontations and betrayals between the two. However, it was Yanquetruz's death that provided him with the perfect pretext to launch an assault and seize the Fortress of Bahía Blanca.
At dawn on May 19, 1859, Calfucurá, accompanied by his formidable captains Guayquil and Antelef, led a fierce force of 3,000 battle-hardened warriors. Moving stealthily through the Giménez marsh (now Mayo Park), they skillfully surrounded the fort.
Despite a warning from a vigilant neighbor, "Gallego" [Galitzian] Mora, the fortress commander chose to retreat inside, securing only a portion of the civilian population. Seizing the opportunity, a large group of indigenous fighters launched a relentless assault, setting fire to Francisco Iturra’s grocery store and looting all the alcohol they could find. Convinced of their imminent victory, they descended into a drunken revelry, celebrating what seemed to be their inevitable triumph.
Bahía Blanca around 1860
A swift and determined defense, led by Commander Juan Charlone of the Italian Legion and the National Guard, positioned in front of Iturra’s grocery store, took the attackers by surprise. After several hours of intense combat, the counteroffensive successfully disrupted the assault.
The battle resulted in a staggering loss of approximately 200 indigenous warriors, whose bodies were later solemnly burned on a pyre in the plaza under the orders of Colonel José Orquera, commander of the Fortress. The remaining indigenous forces (indiada) retreated several kilometers away, where they consoled themselves with a barbecue feast, using cattle they had managed to hide.
This raid marked the last indigenous assault on Bahía Blanca, carried out by groups that, far from being noble "original peoples," operated as bands of looters who raided settlements and traded stolen goods in Chile, preying upon those striving to civilize the land.
Yanquetruz
Testimonies from individuals who experienced that dreadful night provide chilling accounts:
Bernardo Mordeglia, a resident, recalls,
"It was a calm and bitterly cold night, without a breath of wind, when the news arrived, brought to the town by soldiers and Mr. Mora, warning of an impending Malón Indian invasion. Unfortunately, little attention was paid to the warning... The town was abruptly awakened at 5 in the morning by the bloodcurdling cries of Calfucurá, rallying nearly three thousand Indians to attack the town."
He goes on to recount that the Indians ransacked the Iturra premises and indulged in drunkenness, a circumstance he believes ultimately saved the city. Despite putting up a heroic resistance, the attackers eventually decided to retreat. Mordeglia reflects,
"By 9 at night, the Indians were feasting on roasted meat and leather in Saladillo, meat they barbarically stole from Bahía Blanca. The town was engulfed in mourning, cries of despair, desolation, and terror."
Andrea Laborda de Mora, the wife of the person who raised the alarm about the raid, recollects,
"The fury of the battle reached its pinnacle at the corner of Zelarrayán and [what is today]19 de Mayo streets. Later, when the town had calmed down, Commander Orquera, responsible for the fort where we had sought refuge, ordered the collection of the indigenous bodies, which were piled up in today's Plaza Rivadavia. At noon, the bugle sounded, drawing the neighborhood to the barracks, where a solemn bonfire blazed, consuming the bodies of the fallen indigenous warriors, victims of a savage chief's wrath."