War of Paraguay: Battle of Humaitá

Battle of Humaitá

Battle of Humaitá – 18 February 1868

During the War of the Triple Alliance, Marcos Paz, Vice President of the Argentine Republic, died in Buenos Aires from a cholera epidemic brought back from the front, which spread like a curse throughout the summer of 1867–68. The truth is that the Brazilians—by then almost the sole owners of the war, as only the Empire was sending reinforcements and arms—grew serious with Mitre after the disastrous defeat at Tuyú-Cué, and pressured him into returning to Buenos Aires. Constitutionally, his presence was not required, even after Paz’s death, since the Cabinet continued functioning (there was no law governing presidential vacancy), and only eight months remained in the presidential term. But Brazil was eager to hasten the end of the war.

With Mitre removed (never to return), prospects brightened for Brazil. Marshal Caxias resumed command of the allied forces. Perhaps he had never read Frederick the Great, but unlike Mitre, he knew how to win battles.

With the Commander-in-Chief out of the way, things moved swiftly. On 19 January, Admiral Inácio forced the passage at Humaitá; by the 24th, two Brazilian monitors reached Asunción and bombarded the Paraguayan capital. With the river now under Brazilian control, it became impossible for Marshal Solano López to hold the fortifications at Humaitá and Curupaytí. On 10 March, he began withdrawing the bulk of his army via the Chaco route, leaving behind just 4,000 men at Humaitá to cover the retreat. In dugouts, barges, and rafts, the decimated Paraguayan troops—who had defended the Curupaytí–Humaitá line with heroism beyond imagination—crossed the Paraguay River and headed north through the Chaco. At Monte Lindo, they crossed the river again and finally camped at San Fernando. This operation was a feat of leadership and courage: an entire army, with its supplies, wounded, and sick, evacuating a compromised position in the presence of the enemy. They crossed the river twice without, as Arturo Bray notes, “the Brazilian fleet even realising the bold double manoeuvre”.

Colonel Martínez remained in Humaitá as a decoy, to tie down the allied army. But by then the once-impenetrable fortress had lost its strategic purpose. In July, Martínez received orders to abandon it with his remaining men, spiking the 180 cannons that could not be transported. Yet the impatient Marshal Osório was determined to seize the fortress by force and launched an attack with 8,000 men. Martínez responded in Humaitá much as Díaz had in Curupaytí: he let the attackers approach and then unleashed a deadly storm of artillery fire. Osório paid dearly for his ambition to storm the fortress and was ultimately forced to withdraw. Thus ended the last great Paraguayan victory of the war. But unlike Mitre, Osório had the foresight to order a timely retreat and managed to save most of his men.

The cambá (Black Brazilian troops) would enter Humaitá and Curupaytí only after the last Paraguayan soldier had evacuated them on 24 July. On the night of the 23rd, Martínez had sent out the final detachments—men and women—by river. At dawn on the 24th, the Brazilians raised the imperial flag over the now-legendary fortress; shortly beforehand, they had done the same at Curupaytí.

Martínez’s retreat through the Chaco was far from successful. The heroic defenders of the fortress had sacrificed themselves to protect the withdrawal of the main army. As they made their way through the Chaco, they were harassed by vastly superior enemy forces and bombarded from the river by the fleet. Inácio and Osório were determined to exact revenge on Martínez for the three years during which Humaitá had resisted them. Eventually, the depleted Paraguayan garrison was encircled at Isla Poi. They held out for ten days, but hunger and overwhelming numbers forced their surrender. These were the last Paraguayan troops remaining in that theatre of war. Moved by the scene, General Gelly y Obes had the Argentine forces march past “the great heroes of the American epic.” A noble gesture that should fill us with pride.

For a Paraguayan, surrender was unthinkable—even if starvation made it impossible to move, and the lack of ammunition rendered any response to enemy fire futile. Solano López, by now the frenzied “soldier of glory and misfortune”, as Bray puts it, was merciless with those who did not share his unwavering resolve. Victory was no longer possible, and attempts to secure an honourable peace had come to nothing. Thus, for Paraguayans, the only path remaining was death—a chance to give the world a lesson in Guaraní courage.

Colonel Martínez had conducted himself as a hero in the defence of Humaitá and in his doomed retreat through the Chaco. But he had surrendered. It did not matter that he had only 1,200 men and women, lacking uniforms, most with only tattered trousers and military caps, no gunpowder for their flintlocks, and no food—facing a force twenty times their size. The Marshal had surrendered, and that was forbidden for a Paraguayan. The word “surrender” had been erased from the national vocabulary. López declared the defender of Humaitá a traitor.

Three years of unjust and unequal war had transformed the refined Francisco Solano López into a wild beast. He was resolved to die with his country and could neither understand nor forgive any other course of action—not even from his closest friends, his most capable commanders, or his own family. Paraguay came before all else, and for it, he would sacrifice his dearest affections. His actions were certainly not “humane”, but in that final agony, López was no longer a man bound by conventional morality. He had become the very symbol of a Paraguay determined to die standing—like a jaguar of the forest, relentlessly pursued by its hunters.

It was in this final stage of the war that the legend of the monster, the bloodthirsty tyrant, and the great executioner took shape—a narrative that would fuel half a century of Paraguayan liberal historiography. He was accused of terrible acts—and not all were inventions of the enemy. Some accounts are deeply disturbing, but we must place ourselves in the land and time to judge them—amid the tragedy-shrouded Paraguay of the war’s final days. Think of the thousands of Paraguayans who died in battle defending their land, or who perished of hunger or disease behind the lines. Only then can one begin to judge a leader who could not forgive those who showed weakness, who spoke of surrender, or who harboured thoughts other than dying in battle. To understand him, one would need the heart of a Paraguayan and a soul torn by the looming collapse of their homeland.

Terrible things would follow: the execution of Bishop Palacios; the flogging and execution of Colonel Martínez’s wife; the death of López’s own brothers, accused of conspiracy; the imprisonment and whipping of his siblings—even his mother. In this tragic atmosphere, the figure of the implacable Marshal looms large, convinced that for the Paraguayans, under his command, there remained only one path: to contest every inch of their beloved soil—or die.

Source:

• César Díaz – Memorias Inéditas, published by Adriano Díaz – Buenos Aires (1878)

• Efemérides – Patricios de Vuelta de Obligado

• Portal: www.revisionistas.com.ar

• Adolfo Saldías – Historia de la Confederación Argentina – Ed. El Ateneo, Buenos Aires (1951)

Reproduction permitted with citation: www.revisionistas.com.ar

Vuelta de Obligado: Argentine Captured Flags

Flags Captured at Vuelta de Obligado

Revisionistas


 
Flag returned by Admiral Sullivan in 1883. Currently in the National Historical Museum of Buenos Aires.

The first flag shown in this article is of merchant origin and belonged to one of the 24 coastal vessels or barges that, chained together, were anchored at Obligado to block the passage of the Anglo-French fleet. It is one of those banners that came in various sizes and bore different Federalist symbols, but they were not Argentine war flags.

It was captured by the forces of Admiral D.B.J. Sullivan after the battle on 20 November 1845 and returned in 1883 by the same admiral at the Argentine legation in London. It was received by the Argentine consul Alberto A. Guerrico, as a tribute to the bravery shown by Colonel Ramón Rodríguez, who led the 2nd Battalion of the Patricios Infantry Regiment at the Battle of Vuelta de Obligado.

Sullivan confused Colonel Rodríguez with the heroic Lieutenant Colonel Juan Bautista Thorne, who was in charge of the “Manuelita” battery and was the last to retreat from the battlefield, on 21 November.

According to the British admiral’s account, when the flag was lowered by the British, it fell upon the bodies of the fallen and was stained with patriotic blood.

It measures 4 metres in length by 2.5 metres in width, like all large naval flags. Due to its dimensions and the absence of the mandatory slogans from the Rosas era, it does not conform to the regulations for Federalist war flags. Therefore, it did not belong to any battalion and was not considered a trophy—although the French believe otherwise. They had four similar flags in the Hôtel des Invalides in Paris (now the Army Museum), registered under numbers 329 to 333 in the catalogue of the Musée de l’Armée by General Noix, page 164, under the title Drapeaux et Trophées, with an excerpt from a document: the Procès-verbal de réception de cinq drapeaux pris au combat d’Obligado dans le Paraná.

The battle report from Obligado by Captain Hotham, a subordinate officer under Sullivan, does not mention the capture of any flags. Nor is there any record from Lucio N. Mansilla of any ensign being lost.

The author Martiniano Leguizamón addressed this subject in two articles published in the newspaper La Nación. Evaristo Ramírez Juárez, for his part, drew accurate conclusions in his work Las banderas cautivas, where he includes photographs of the chapel of St. Louis in the Hôtel des Invalides, showing those very poorly preserved flags, taken in the 1930s. Lieutenant Colonel Ramírez Juárez wrote:

“1st – The flags said to have been taken at Obligado by the French and British were likely from merchant ships requisitioned by Mansilla, or from others of the same kind.

2nd – No combat flags were captured from the Argentine land or naval forces that fought at Vuelta de Obligado.”.

Flag hanging from the central nave of the Chapel of St. Louis, Paris, France

Moreover, the official report by French Admiral Trehouart refers to “…several Argentine flags taken from the batteries and the vessels that formed the barricade (ships holding the chains).”

The flag taken by the French at Obligado is composed of three horizontal stripes: the top and bottom ones are turquoise blue, and the middle stripe is white with a red punzó sun in the centre. The sun features a face surrounded by 32 rays. In each of the four corners are red Phrygian caps with pikes or spears, made of flannel, cut out and sewn onto the flag.

The flag is made of flannel, not silk as was customary for national or war flags. Along the hoist side, it has a braided cord forming loops at both ends. It is held at the National Historical Museum in the city of Buenos Aires, under file number 2568, folder 326. It was donated by the Municipal Government of the City of Buenos Aires on 18 April 1891, under the designation: “Flag taken by the British at the Battle of Obligado.”

One of the merchant flags that was in Paris (number 330) was returned by French President Jacques Chirac during his visit to our country in 1999 and was received by the Director of the National Historical Museum, Dr Juan José Cresto. It is now housed in that museum and, undoubtedly, beyond its vexillological interest, it holds significant historical value. It is identical to the one returned by Sullivan.

Two other Argentine merchant flags from Obligado (numbers 329 and 331) are believed to have been lost during the Second World War, either during the German occupation of Paris or due to deterioration. The Army Museum decommissioned them in 1957. The fate of flags numbered 332 and 333 is unknown; they measured 2.40 m by 1.35 m and bore no distinctive features.

At present, there is an Argentine flag—without sun, Phrygian caps in the corners, or inscriptions—hanging from the central nave of the Chapel of St. Louis. It appears to be new or restored. Of the two remaining Argentine flags mentioned above, and given that diplomatic enquiries made to the French Embassy in Buenos Aires have failed to clarify the matter, could it be one of the original merchant flags from 1845, now restored? We do not know.

Source

Efemérides – Patricios de Vuelta de Obligado
Leguizamón, Martiniano – Hombres y cosas que pasaron – Buenos Aires (1926)
Peña, J. M. y Alonso, J. L. – Las banderas de los argentinos – Aluar, Buenos Aires (2009)
Portal www.revisionistas.com.ar
Ramírez Juárez, Evaristo – La estupenda conquista – Buenos Aires (1946)
Turone, Oscar Alfredo – Las banderas de Obligado

War with Brazil: Naval Battle of Los Pozos

June 11th. Anniversary of the Battle of Los Pozos

Background

Imagine a nation on the brink, its borders threatened by a powerful empire, rivers blockaded, and its very sovereignty hanging by a thread. The year is 1825, and the fledgling United Provinces of the Río de la Plata faces a formidable foe: the Empire of Brazil, a giant that seeks to crush any resistance and expand its dominion.

As the specter of war looms, Buenos Aires is thrust into a desperate struggle for survival. A small, hastily assembled fleet, funded by the patriotic fervor of its citizens, is their only hope against Brazil's mighty naval forces. Meanwhile, danger lurks on the southern coast, where whispers of invasion and treachery among indigenous allies threaten to unravel the fragile unity of the provinces.

This is not just a battle for land or power; it is a fight for the very soul of a nation. The stage is set for a conflict that will shape the destiny of South America, where courage, strategy, and determination will be tested to their limits. Will the United Provinces rise to the challenge, or will they be consumed by the imperial ambitions of their neighbor? The answer lies in the epic struggle that is about to unfold. 

The Actions

Picture a nation under siege, its fate hanging in the balance as forces clash on both land and water. The rivers that were once lifelines have become battlegrounds, and the mighty Plata, once claimed by the Empire of Brazil as its own, now bears witness to fierce resistance.

In the closing days of May 1826, the Argentine fleet, though outnumbered and outgunned, dared to challenge imperial dominance. Brig Balcarce, alongside a few schooners and gunboats, stealthily maneuvered to Las Conchillas, where they began the daring task of disembarking troops. The Empire, seeking vengeance, dispatched a squadron of 30 ships to crush this audacious move. But on June 11, as they approached Los Pozos, they met an unexpected foe: Admiral Guillermo Brown, a man of iron will and unyielding courage.

With Buenos Aires as a backdrop and ten thousand spectators lining the harbor, Brown's fleet engaged the imperial forces in a blaze of cannon fire. For fifteen intense minutes, the river roared with the thunder of battle until, against all odds, the imperial ships turned south, retreating from the fray. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the Argentine fleet stood victorious, a testament to their resilience and determination.

Yet, while these naval victories ignited hope, the land war stagnated. The Argentine army, led by General Las Heras, remained in a tense standoff, hindered by political turmoil at home. In a bid to stabilize the nation, Congress acted swiftly, establishing a permanent executive power and electing Bernardino Rivadavia as president.

The stage is set for a dramatic turn in the conflict, where the tides of war may shift at any moment. The courage displayed on the rivers may yet inspire a nation to rise above the challenges that lie ahead, but the road to victory is fraught with uncertainty.



Wikipedia

Battle of the Vuelta de Obligado

The Obligado Cannon

Obligado's cannon responded to such insolent provocations.
His roar resonated in my heart.
Artillery Colonel Martiniano Chilavert.

Battle of the Vuelta de Obligado.

On November 20, 1845, on the banks of the Paraná, in a bend of the river called Vuelta de Obligado, near San Pedro; The memorable artillery battle took place between the troops of the Argentine Confederation and the naval fleets of England and France.
The two main world powers had become accustomed to imposing their commercial interests from the mouth of the guns of their powerful naval fleets. Egypt and China had already suffered its firepower, leaving Hong Kong as a trophy of savage imperialism, and later its victims would be Mexico and Venezuela. Old history that would be repeated in this century with the sole variation in the caliber of weapons.
In the Río de la Plata they counted as allies a group of ambitious politicians who had fled Buenos Aires to escape punishment for their crimes and others who put their ideology above their homeland.
The intervening fleet had blockaded the port of Buenos Aires, captured the island of Martín García and also the small Argentine naval fleet. They demanded, with no other right than the arrogance of their cannons, the free navigation of the interior rivers of the Republic. The obedience and cowardice of the exiles in Montevideo made them assume that they were facing another easily dominated republic.
But the habit, which they still maintain, of achieving easy triumphs through diplomatic pressure or the threat of force, collided with the iron stance of a ruler who was neither pusillanimous nor corrupt. General Juan Manuel de Rosas fought them on all fronts. In the diplomat with his skillful management of the enemy's weaknesses and with the invaluable collaboration of General San Martín; in the financial sector, causing heavy losses and a conflict on their internal front; and in the military, giving them a battle that caused the admiration of the aggressors themselves.
On the morning of November 20, the ships of the fleet took position in front of the batteries that General Lucio Norberto Mansilla, a veteran of Chacabuco and Maipú, had hastily ordered to be built. The design of the batteries was in charge of the hero of that day, Colonel Juan Bautista Thorne. The entire width of the river was crossed by three lines of chains placed on barges and dismantled boats, which were tied at one end to three anchors and at the other to the brig “Republicano”, under the command of Captain Tomás Craig, an Irishman who had arrived in Buenos Aires. Aires with the English invasion of 1806 and after becoming a Creole he fought in the Northern Army under the orders of Belgrano, and carried out the Peruvian campaign with San Martín.
They managed to build four of the seven batteries that were planned. These were: the “Restaurador” battery with 6 pieces under the command of Senior Adjutant Alvaro de Alzogaray; the “General Brown” battery with 8 pieces under the command of Lieutenant. Eduardo Brown, son of the Admiral; the “General Mansilla” with 8 pieces, commanded by Lieutenant. of artillery Felipe Palacios and, beyond the chains that closed the passage of the river, the “Manuelita” battery with 7 pieces (two flying trains) under the command of Colonel Juan B. Thorne. Most Argentine cannons were 10-pounders and only a few were 24-pounders.
To the right of the batteries, in a forest, the troops of the Buenos Aires Patricios Regiment and its military band were stationed, under the orders of Colonel Ramón Rodriguez. Behind the “Restaurador” battery there was a rural body of 100 men under the command of Lt. Juan Gainza, followed by the militiamen of San Nicolás under the command of Cte. Barreda and another rural corps under the command of Colonel Manuel Virto.
The reserve was commanded by Colonel José M. Cortina and included two cavalry squadrons under the orders of Aide Julián del Río and Lt. Facundo Quiroga, son of the Tigre de los Llanos. Behind the reserve were about 300 neighbors, including women, from San Pedro, Baradero and San Antonio de Areco, who gathered at the last minute, armed with what they could bring.
The fleet was made up of eleven ships with a total of 99 guns, most of them 32-pounders, some 80-pounders and others with the Paixhans fuze-based bullet system whose explosives wreaked havoc on the defense.
At 9 in the morning the English ship Philomel launched the first cannon shot, the Patricios Regiment band broke into the chords of the National Anthem and the Argentine batteries began to respond with cheers to the country.
In a few minutes, the quiet banks of the Paraná became an imitation of hell. About forty projectiles per minute were launched from both sides, causing widespread casualties among the Confederate troops. At eleven o'clock a group of French infantry tried to disembark and was attacked by Virto's troops, most of them perishing under the Argentine sabers or drowning while fleeing.


General Lucio N. Mansilla

Towards noon, General Mansilla sent a report to Rosas telling him that he did not know how much longer he could hold off the enemy since his ammunition was running out. However, the fire from the Argentine batteries had managed to knock out the Pandour and Dolphin ships and caused serious damage to other ships; but the cost in lives among the Creole artillerymen was very high. Captain Craig had to sink the brig “Republicano” that was already almost dismantled with cannon fire and reunited with his remaining men in the shore batteries.
At four in the afternoon, the English protected by the ship Fireband managed to cut the chains and surpass the defenses. On the ground, only the Manuelita battery responded, whose leader, Colonel Thorne, caused the admiration of the enemies, giving orders from the top of his position with his entire body exposed to enemy fire. General Mansilla ordered him to cease fire and withdraw, but Thorne rejected the order, responding that his guns demanded that he fire until he won or died. He remained in that position until a cannon shot made him fly through the air, leaving him seriously injured and deaf for life. His soldiers removed him from the field, taking him to the convent of San Lorenzo.
Towards evening, when there were no longer any cannons or artillerymen standing, the invaders landed; Mansilla ordered the enemy to be charged but a shot of shrapnel knocked him down, wounding him in the stomach. Then Colonel Ramón Rodriguez led the attack with the Patricians, giving them a brilliant charge with the bayonet but finally he had to retreat due to the numerical superiority of the enemy.
The Argentine flag that, stained with blood, was taken by the English at the Thorne battery, would be returned 38 years later by Admiral Sullivan (captain of the Philomel) as a sign of his admiration for the head of the Manuelita battery.
In Obligado the interveners had 150 casualties and the Confederation troops had 650 casualties. It was, if you will, an Anglo-French victory. But shortly after, the invaders would understand that the wise words of San Martín, who predicted disaster for them, were a reality. It was impossible to get a foothold and stay in Argentine territory; On the contrary, they were fought throughout the entire length of the Paraná. Quebracho, Ensenada, Acevedo, Tonelero and San Lorenzo marked serious setbacks for the fleet and fundamentally demonstrated the impossibility of maintaining commercial traffic, which was its main objective. The English first and then the French ended up bowing and abiding by the will of the Argentine people.
At this end of the century dominated by the “verse” of globalization, it is good that we remember the examples left by the great men of our history such as Rosas, San Martín and the heroes of Obligado. As the Catalan poet said: “Let the merchant not traffic / with what a people wants to be.”

Oscar Fernando Larrosa (h)

“La Nueva Provincia”, November 20th, 1999, page 7.