Let
anybody take the trouble to visit the Calles [Footnote: Streets]
Cerrito, Libertad and Talcahuano, the vicinity of the Plazas Parque
and Lavalle, and he will be staggered to see how all the houses have
been riddled by mitrailleuses and rifle bullets. The passage of
cannon balls is marked on the iron frames of windows, smashed frames
and demolished balconies of the houses.
"The Miro Palace, in the Plaza Parque, is a sorry picture of
wreckage: the 'mirador' is knocked to pieces by balls and shells; the
walls are riddled on every side, and nearly all the beautiful Italian
balconies and buttresses have been demolished. The firing around the
palace must have been fearful, to judge by the utter ruin about, and
all the telephone wires dangling over the street in meshes from every
house. Ruin and wreckage everywhere.
"By this time the hospitals of the city, the churches and public
buildings were filled with the wounded and dying, borne there on
stretchers made often of splintered and shattered doors. Nearly a
hundred men were taken into the San Francisco convent alone." Yet
with all this the lust for blood was not quenched. It could still be
written of the fourth day:
"At about half-past two, a sharp attack was made by the Government
troops on the Plaza Parque, and a fearful fire was kept up. Hundreds
and hundreds fell on both sides, but the Government troops were
finally repulsed. People standing at the corners of the streets
cheering for the Revolutionists were fired on and many were killed.
Bodies of Government troops were stationed at the corners of the
streets leading to the Plaza, Large bales of hay had been heaped up
to protect them from the deadly fire of the Revolutionists.
"It was at times difficult to remember that heavy slaughter was going
on around. In many parts of the city people were chatting, joking and
laughing at their doors. The attitude of the foreign population was
more serious; they seemed to foresee the heavy responsibilities of
the position and to accurately forecast the result of the
insurrection.
"The bulletins of the various newspapers during the revolution were
purchased by the thousand and perused with the utmost avidity; fancy
prices were often paid for them. The Sunday edition of The Standard
was sold by enterprising newsboys in the suburbs as high as $3.00 per
copy, whilst fifty cents was the regulation price for a momentary
peep at our first column."
Towards the close of that memorable 29th of July the hail of bullets
ceased, but the insurgent fleet still kept up its destructive
bombardment of the Government houses for four hours.
The Revolutionists were defeated, or, as was seriously affirmed, had
been sold for the sum of one million Argentine dollars.
"Estamos vendidos!" "Estamos vendidos!" (We are sold! We are sold!)
was heard on every hand. Because of this surrender officers broke
their swords and men threw away their rifles as they wept with rage.
A sergeant exclaimed: "And for this they called us out - to surrender
without a struggle! Cowards! Poltroons!" And then with a stern glance
around he placed his rifle to his breast and shot himself through the
heart. After the cessation of hostilities both sides collected their
dead, and the wounded were placed under the care of surgeons, civil
as well as military.
Notwithstanding the fact that the insurgents were said to be
defeated, the President, Dr. Celman, fled from the city, and the
amusing spectacle was seen of men and youths patrolling the streets
wearing cards in their hats which read: "Ya se fue el burro" (At
last the donkey has gone). A more serious sight, however, was when
the effigy of the fleeing President was crucified.
Thus ended the insurrection of 1890, a rising which sent three
thousand brave men into eternity.
What changes had taken place in four short days! At the Plaza
Libertad the wreckage was most complete. The beautiful partierres
were trodden down by horses; the trees had been partially cut down
for fuel; pools of blood, remnants of slaughtered animals, offal,
refuse everywhere.
Since the glorious days of the British invasion - glorious from an
Argentine point of view - Buenos Ayres had never seen its streets
turned into barricades and its housetops into fortresses. In times of
electoral excitement we had seen electors attack each other in bands
many years, but never was organized warfare carried on as during this
revolution. The Plaza Parque was occupied by four or five thousand
Revolutionary troops; all access to the Plaza was defended by armed
groups on the house-tops and barricades in the streets, Krupp guns
and that most infernal of modern inventions, the mitrailleuse, swept
all the streets, north, south, east and west. The deadly grape swept
the streets down to the very river, and not twenty thousand men could
have taken the Revolutionary position by storm, except by gutting the
houses and piercing the blocks, as Colonel Garmendia proposed, to
avoid the awful loss of life suffered in the taking of the Plaza
Libertad on Saturday morning.
At the close of the revolution the great city found itself suffering
from a quasi-famine. High prices were asked for everything. In some
districts provisions could not be obtained even at famine prices. The
writer for the first time in his life had to go here and there to beg
a loaf of bread for his family's needs.
A reporter of the Argentine News, July 31st of that same year,
wrote:
