Ducal Rebellion (Iberian Peninsula 1902-1905)
Dozens of nations across the world had the misfortune to see the Great War be fought on their soil. The result was not pleasant to watch once the butchery stopped. There were cemeteries with marked and unmarked graves as far as the human eye could observe. There was a sort of hellish lunar landscape, where artillery shells, trenches, thousands of human skeletons, and bullet containers dominated everything.
The Iberian Peninsula escaped this dreadful fate. The Holy Spanish Empire and the Kingdom of Portugal were both members of the Grande Entente, and thus the potential of a large-scale conflict there was avoided as early as 1895. The Neapolitans armies were never supplied and numerous enough to launch an offensive towards the Gibraltar Straits, and the Entente navies prevented an amphibious assault on Aragon or the Balearic Islands.
Portugal and Spain were on the winner’s side of the Great War. With a homeland untouched by devastation and artillery barrages, trade gains or territory conquests to boast, the result should have been a happy population.
In 1902, the kingdom and the empire were as far removed from this vision as it was possible to be. Like in many nations, the insane death toll modern warfare imposed to its participants had made the pre-war estimations look like a pleasant farce. Over twenty percent of the men who went to war for Luis II never came back, and there were tens of thousands of veterans horribly wounded now trying to forget the war and mend their broken bodies and minds. Portugal had lost Brazil, and with it essentially the last of its aspirations as a Great Power, given that Angola and Mozambique were more and more tied economically to England, not Lisbon. Madrid had lost the Philippines and every possession of note in the Pacific.
The Portuguese and Spanish monarchs who accepted the terms of the Congress of London didn’t last long. Luis II, like Louis XVIII of France, had outwardly taken ten years for every year of conflict, and barely one month after the official end of the Great War, the Portuguese monarch collapsed in his office and despite the best efforts of his doctors, passed away two days later. He was succeeded by his eldest son, who took the name Luis III.
Spain’s succession was unquestionably more violent. The Duke of Cadiz, once rumoured to be the Empress’ lover and one of the most powerful nobles of Spain, had lost more and more influence as the Grande Entente disintegrated in internal quarrels. It had been the Duke who had pushed for the expansion of the Spanish Empire in Africa and the position France would stand down when the Spanish demands were received at Paris. Since the ministers of the French King refused to even consider half of the demands, the Duke of Cadiz had been increasingly moved aside from the matters of governance. This was not a situation the former advisor of Isabella II tolerated well and as the pockets of Cadiz progressively get emptier, many of his supporters began to desert him.
It didn’t help that the Spanish economy was lagging badly behind those of its former allies. Once upon a time, devotion to the Holy Empress and betrayal of trusted allies could have sufficiently diminished the tensions and put back the pre-war order in place. But it wasn’t anymore. The Spanish industry and production methods were from five to ten years behind those of a country like England. And to make it worse, the Spanish manufacturing and industrial centres were in general smaller and less numerous than Hungary-Austria or Naples took for granted.
It was a period of tensions, riots and the religious dogma was beginning to crack under the pressure. As the court descended in a frenzy of blaming the French for everything going wrong, the Duke decided his time had come. Isabella’s eldest son Crown Prince Carlos was too old for a regency, but his young sister was not. And there were plenty of Great War veterans unsatisfied with the Imperial Crown – the war pensions were rarely paid in full and in time – to reform some regiments loyal to Cadiz alone. Yet the number of troops was far from sufficient to overwhelm the troops loyal to the Empress, and Cadiz had to turn to the Portuguese for more men, not to mention the machine guns and the cannons indispensable for his great project.
Luis III, believing the Holy Empire in its current order had a good choice to completely collapse and be replaced by a more pleasant neighbour, signed a secret treaty with the ambitious aristocrat. The northern provinces lost long ago would be given back to Portugal, and trade agreements and industrial programs extremely favourable for Lisbon would be signed.
Alas for Luis III’s hopes, the coup was a series of blunders. While a suicidal charge of veterans managed to shoot Isabella II and kill her as she arrived at Madrid, the conspirators were opposed by the regular army at every turn and one Count high in Cadiz confidence captured in the earliest battles revealed everything he knew. Crown Prince Carlos was killed in the massive street warfare fought in the streets of Madrid, but at the end of March 1905, it was the loyalists who held the capital and the chief cities of the kingdom.
The Duke of Granada was put in command of the war effort by the fourteen years-old Isabella III, and ordered to break the rank of the traitors once for all. The anti-French propaganda was forgotten for the time being, and priests and newspapers began to light a fire in the hearts of their congregations against the traitor Cadiz and the perfidious Portuguese.
By June, the initial gains made by Cadiz and the revolted veterans were gone. The popular support they had always counted on for their plans never materialised once the rumours began to spread the rebel Duke intended to sell the realm to the Portuguese. The regular Spanish armies had suffered heavy losses, but its core of veterans was still alive, while the one of the rebel had perished.
To further decrease the problem of recruitment, the insurgents had no counter to the fact each every insurgent caught with a Cadiz flag or any symbol indicating a refusal to recognise Her Holiness the Empress was in general killed in a very gruesome fashion or sent to African projects where no one ever came back.
By October 1905, Cadiz had no choice but to abandon the city of the same name and flee with the eight warships – the biggest of the lot was an heavy cruiser – and set sail for Lisbon.
To say Luis III was not happy to see him when the architect of the failed rebellion was like saying the Sahara was a bit dry during the hot season. The Portuguese King, unfortunately for him, had no time to send the Spanish exiles. The modern weapons and the ‘volunteers’ which had fought by the side of the Spanish involved in the coup had certainly not been unnoticed by the Duke of Granada. By July, the Crown had had enough evidence to prove Portugal had been anything but an innocent party in the mini-civil war currently being fought. Under torture, plenty of Portuguese soldiers had given names of Colonels and Generals. In the mind of the Spanish Cardinals and Ministers, it wasn’t really important to know whether Luis III had arranged the alliance with Cadiz himself or if his high-ranked officers had gone behind his back. On September 27, the Holy Spanish Empire sent an ultimatum to its western neighbour. Disarm, allow a proper investigation team on Portuguese soil and pay reparations for selling weapons to enemies of Spain.
Luis III refused, his confidence bolstered by the fact the English ambassador had promised him military help should the Spanish proved aggressive. The Holy Empire of Spain declared war on October 5 1905. Less than five years after the end of the Great War, Europe woke up once again at the sound of the cannons.