Vuelta de Obligado and the controversial figure of Juan Manuel de Rosas

A promise is a promise, so here it goes.

I’ll talk about something I imagine many people here don’t know about, but touches upon a recent national holiday here in Argentina: the battle of Vuelta de Obligado.

On November 20th, 1845, a small army of 2100 men, one brigantine and a few coastal batteries, faced an Algo-French naval blockade in the Paraná River, in what was then the Argentine Confederation. Why is this important?

Introduction

In 1806 and 1807, when the Viceroyalty of Río de la Plata still existed, the English government decided to invade the coast of Buenos Aires, disembarking in the area now called Quilmes. Why? Well, this expeditions didn’t come from nowhere, but rather, were part of the Napoleonic Wars, specifically the conflict known as the Anglo-Spanish War of 1796-1808. In their efforts to weaken the Spanish army and navy, instrumental in Napoleon’s planned invasion of Britain, the English decided to try and capture the most important Spanish port in the South Atlantic: Buenos Aires. Both in 1806 and 1807, they sent small forces to conquer the city, and both times, they were repelled by the people of Buenos Aires, who organized themselves in militias under the leadership of Santiago de Liniers, a French nobleman who shaped those militias, that had managed to force the most advanced army in the planet, to retreat, into the first Argentine regimental army, the Patricians’ Regiment. This failed incursions were the beginning of a long history of animosity between the Argentine and English governments, even before Argentina even existed.

Fast forward a few decades. The revolution of 1810 against Spain and the declaration of independence in 1816 had been successful in liberating the United Provinces of Río de la Plata, but failed to create a cohesionated nation. The first military commander and political leader of the Argentine Republic’s direct ancestor, the Argentine Confederation, was caudillo Juan Manuel Ortiz de Rozas, better known as Juan Manuel de Rosas, governor of the province of Buenos Aires, from 1835 until 1852. It’s interesting to note that, while his surname was Ortiz de Rozas, in an effort to distance himself from his Spanish heritage, he fashioned his name as Rosas, replacing the traditional “z” sound so prevalent in Castilla’s Spanish, with a more “Argentine” “s”.

During his long time in office, Rosas held a firm grasp on both the executive and legislative powers in the province, but never assumed a national office. His federalist ideals led him to form alliances with other governors in order to create a unified Confederation that could withstand both internal and external attacks. However, while a federalist, during his time as governor, Buenos Aires remained the richest and most important province in the Confederation, thanks, mostly, to the capital’s port and customs house.

Well after Napoleon had been defeated, both the English and the French needed to commerce with the Confederation, one of the most well organized and armed amongst the newly formed Latin American nations. They, however, rejected one of Rosas’ more rigid policies: all naval and fluvial trade was obligated to pass through Buenos Aires’ customs before entering or exiting the inner territory. When the French and the English decided to avoid Buenos Aires by simply sailing from the Atlantic coast into the Paraná river, towards Santa Fe and Entre Ríos, Rosas, backed by the other governors of the Confederation, decided that the easiest course of action was to simply forbid upstream navigation into the territory by any unauthorised vessels.

Ignoring this decision, the newly formed Anglo-French blockade, which consisted of 22 warships and more than 90 merchant ships, sailed into the Paraná river. This direct defiance to the authority of the Confederation, which in turn constituted an invasion of Argentine territory, forced Rosas and the governors to retaliate, organizing four emplacements to bombard the invading force.

The battle

I’m not a military historian, so I can’t do the action justice. I will, however, give a brief account of the organization. The Anglo-French blockade had sent a forward party of eleven warships, three of them steam-powered. The three Argentine emplacements were nicknamed Restaurador in honor of governor Rosas, who was hailed as the Restorer of the Laws and Institutions of the Province of Buenos Aires by the province’s legislature; General Brown, in honor of Guillermo (née William) Brown, and Irish born, naturalized Argentine citizen who became the first admiral of the navy, considered to be the father of the Argentine naval force, and one of the nation’s fathers, due to his involvement in the revolutionary and independence wars; General Mansilla, in honor of the commanding officer of the forces, Lucio Norberto Mansilla; and Manuelita, in honor of Manuela Rosas, the governor’s daughter.

These emplacements were manned by 2100 men, most of them drafted gauchos (an earlier equivalent of cowboys), supported by the second battalion of the Patrician’s Regiment, commanded by Colonel Ramón Rodríguez. General Mansilla was the commanding officer of both artillery and naval forces, which consisted of the aforementioned brigantine, Republicano, two small gunboats, Restaurador and Lagos, and 24 boats, that were used by Mansilla to place and support three sets of heavy chains from coast to coast, in order to slow the enemy warships. The chains, guarded by the Manuelita emplacement, were positioned at an area of the river called Vuelta de Obligado, were the river takes a turn, causing any ship to delay its advance.

In Rosas, Our Contemporary (1970), revisionist historian José María Rosa cites eyewitnesses that said that, upon the arrival of the Algo-French ships, the Argentine soldiers received them shouting “¡Viva la Patria!” (“Long live the homeland!”), and signing the National Anthem. It’s important to note that in Argentine historiography, the term revisionism is diametrically opposed to the traditional use of the word, because it specifically refers to a school of historiography that focuses on the critical re-analysis of Argentine history, particularly when it comes to the obscurantism created by the military dictatorships of the XX century, which tried to erase from history many people and events that were deemed dangerous and against conservative right wing ideologies.

The battle lasted several hours, during which the Argentines managed to severely damage and even cripple some of the enemy ships. However, as time passed, their ammunition reserves dwindled, causing them to be unable to properly engage the ships. Taking advantage of this situation, English troops disembarked and charged the artillery batteries with their bayonets, which resulted in several casualties and wounded, including General Mansilla, who received a chest wound.

Aftermath

The battle, technically speaking, was won by the Anglo-French forces, mostly because they sustained less casualties, around 28 dead and 90 wounded, while the Argentine forces lost between 150 and 200 men, with 200-400 wounded, the majority of their small barges burnt down, and the brigantine Republicano sank by its own commander. However, due to the severity of the damage inflicted upon the invading ships, the blockade’s advance was halted. After their retreat, they were unable to continue sailing into the Confederation. Three years later, the cost of maintaining a static force anchored at the La Plata river became unsustainable for the English government, which tasked diplomat Henry Southern with the negotiation of a peace treaty. The treaty, brokered by Southern and Felipe Arana, took nearly two years to complete, and was signed in 1849. It was ratified in 1850, and established the Confederation’s sovereignty over the navigation of its rivers, as well as the British commitment to respecting said sovereignty.

Week 109

 

By the end of August 1919, new Italian Foreign Minister Tommaso Tittoni had achieved his first diplomatic goal, that of restoring positive relations between Italy and her Allies: France and Great Britain. In addition he had secured a (somewhat costly) agreement with the Greeks on the Albanian and Turkish matters (Tittoni-Venizelos secret protocol of July 29^th 1919). Last, after many revisions, and heading the British and especially French advice – at least in so far as allowed by the need to retain something of Italy's “national” aspirations – he had produced a final plan (revised Salata plan, August 24^th 1919) for the settlement of the Adriatic question, involving the establishment of a Free State of Fiume, the extension of the Italian frontier to include almost the whole of Istria and a substantial neutralization of the Adriatic coast.

But Italy's rapprochement with the Allies provided only one half of the solution to the diplomatic puzzle faced by the Italian delegation after the signature of the Treaty of Versailles. The other half – and in all likelihood the most complex part – was persuading the US, and especially President Woodrow Wilson, of returning over their ultimative proposal for the definition of the border between Italy and and the SHS State, accepting a few more or less minor revision of the frontier and, chiefly, a plan which, while keeping Fiume independent, in substance prevented the annexation of Fiume to Yugoslavia (and prepared the annexation to Italy). Conversely, the American design of an integral plebiscite (that is, for the State as a whole and not for zones) at the end of a five years period was seen by the Italians – and with good reason, given the size and ethnic composition of the Free State – as a method to prepare for a delayed annexation to Yugoslavia (a way, therefore, to avoid the threat of an escalation in consequence of an immediate award).

Unfortunately for the Italians, the perspective of changing Wilson's mind appeared rather grim. Not only the American resolve on the issue had only grown stronger – and to an extent, perhaps, more personal – during the tense negotiations of late April and early May 1919, with their follow up of violent attacks against the US President on the Italian press, but the various pieces of Wilson's settlement design appear to have taken shape already during early 1919, before the actual negotiation stage, and to have changed very little since. Furthermore, the American delegation, experts and US President alike were well aware that they had come to represent the one champion of the new Yugoslav State against what could be pictured as the less idealistic, less noble side of old diplomacy. And last, on a more practical ground, the Italian territorial aspirations – while diminished in good measure from the original nationalist “minimum plan” of Dalmatia plus Fiume – still relied on the dubious proposition of including over a hundred thousand Slavs within the Italian frontiers for the sake of avoiding the inclusion of some fifty thousand Italians within the Yugoslav State. And, while the sentimental value of Fiume and the presence within the urban center of a significant core of Italian populace were not disputed, the relative isolation of the city from the other chiefly Italian regions made ensuring a form of territorial contiguity almost impossible without including regions with a majority Slavic population. Additionally, if the Italian press could highlight the obscure designs of the US and British financiers over the old trade hub of the Hungarian Kingdom, as well as the French aspirations to expand their presence in the Balkans, American and British observers alike were suspicious of the special fondness of the commercial groups of Trieste for the cause of “Italian Fiume”.

In addition to the specific controversy centered around Fiume, and contrary to Nitti's best hopes (Nitti had frequently insisted, both in private and public speeches, on the need to pursue the “closest collaboration with the US” in order to ensure the economical future of Italy), there had been very few signs of an improvement of the relations between Italy and the US after the definition of the Treaty of Versailles. Rather, the Italians had gradually come to believe that the diplomatic difficulties of April and May and the persistent state of tension in the Adriatic were causing a general, and substantial deterioration of the relations (both political and financial) between the two countries, such as to affect other – and more urgent – matters, like the availability of American credit after the end of the “quasi-fixed” exchange rates.

In fairness, Tittoni could often remark on the friendly attitude the American delegates left in Paris displayed towards him; and yet he had to take note of the fact that both H. White and F.L. Polk had almost no discretionary power – and certainly not on an issue where the US President had already explicitly made his deliberation – so that their sympathetic stance was largely inconsequential (and inexpensive). Furthermore, in another slightly concerning turn, the US Ambassador in Rome, T.N. Page – who had exerted minimal influence on the negotiations in Paris, but was at least one of the few American diplomats favorable to the Italian aspirations – had resigned on July 22^nd after a meeting with Wilson.

Meanwhile – and this time a source of much greater concern for the Italian Government – on the 23^rd of July the Head of the Bank of Italy, Bonaldo Stringher had "interviewed with the American bankers" (Stettinius and a selection of Morgan representatives) in order to secure a sponsored loan with American investors. As Tittoni summarized to Nitti – "there are no difficulties, but Wilson's approval is needed". It would appear that the Italian Foreign Minister was mistaken on both counts, or at least rather optimistic about the inclination of American investors to provide Italy with credit. Two days later (July 25^th 1919), in fact, the American Plenipotentiaries (White, Bliss and Harrison) examined the negotiations concerning the Italian demands for a favorable line of credit.

Mr. White stated that during a conversation the previous evening with Mr. Tittoni, the latter had referred to the desire of the Italian Government to secure a credit in the United States for $650,000,000 for three years. The United States Government had put in a caveat that nothing must be done for three weeks. The Italian Government was particularly anxious to obtain this credit, as their needs are very pressing, and Mr. Tittoni inquired whether the President would not consent to remove the veto on one-quarter of this amount. […]

Last Friday or Saturday Mr. Springer [Stringher], Governor of the Bank of Italy […] had asked whether it would not be possible for the big plan to take over any temporary arrangements which might be made in the meanwhile. Mr. Stettinius had replied that for his part he saw no objection, and thought that this might be done, but laid stress on the fact that the whole matter was in abeyance. […]

Mr. White then reverted to Mr. Tittoni’s statement to him the previous evening, and asked Mr. Stettinius if it were correct that the Italian proposals regarding terms had been accepted, and that the only thing that stood in the way of the completion of the credit was the President’s veto. Mr. Stettinius replied that Mr. Tittoni’s statement was quite incorrect, and pointed out that all that had taken place so far was in the nature of conversations of a most informal character. These had related to the $100,000,000 short term treasury bills, not $150,000,000 as Mr. Tittoni had stated. Moreover, the conversations were purely tentative, and it was extremely doubtful whether the matter would go through at all.

I stumbled upon an interesting photo of a congressional candidate on horseback a while back, and wanted to learn more about him. Little did I know when I started what I'd unravel. (Because Reddit is what it is, I can't figure out how to include the more than 30 footnotes actually tied to where they go, so the footnotes will appear in as comment under the final installment of the narrative)

Please enjoy The Curious Congressional Campaign and Life of LaMarr Bailey (Part 1 of 3; Parts 2, 3 will go as comments under this post)

In 1944, a World War II veteran and father of five named LaMarr Bailey announced a run for United States Congress in Texas’ 18th district in the Texas Panhandle. He was seeking to unseat incumbent Eugene Worley in the Democratic Primary.

Bailey,an Amarillo radio announcer, running as an anti-New Dealer, actually campaigned in parts of his district on horseback, claiming he didn’t want to be beholden to any New Deal agencies for gas rations. His horse was named Bureaucracy.

“Bailey was given a medical discharge after serving 22 months in the South Pacific war zone against the Japs,” according to newspaper accounts.

“‘The old army horse gets peeved at times over his new name,'” Bailey told The Canyon News.

Bailey, 28, at the time, had traveled 165 miles in one week and anticipated riding 700 more before his campaign concluded.

He was running on platforms including six-year tenure of office for members of Congress, and lifting of differential freight rates, and states’ rights. His slogan was, “Send another Bailey to Congress,” and he claimed familial relations with the late Joseph Bailey, a longtime U.S. Senator representing Texas. It is unclear if he is actually related to Bailey.

One sources that he received a Purple Heart and Presidential Citation for bravery in the Southwest Pacific; whether that is accurate or not is unknown. However, by the time Bailey entered the military, he already had one major brush with the law.

Bailey ultimately lost to Worley, but that wasn’t the end of his notoriety, nor was it, really, the beginning.