ations of the
Carlist leaders at this stage of their revolt. The stronghold was almost
inaccessible on the land side, and men, munitions, and provisions could
be easily thrown into it by water. Irun, Fontarabia, and even Renteria
(were artillery available) could be seized whenever the comparatively
small sacrifice of lives involved would be advisable. But the game was
not worth the candle yet. Were Irun or Fontarabia in the hands of the
Carlists, there was the always-present danger of shells being pitched
into them from a gunboat in the Bidassoa; and Renteria, outside of which
the Republican troops only stirred on sufferance, was to all intents as
serviceable to the Carlists as if it were tenanted by a Carlist
garrison, which would thereby be condemned to idleness.

That whirlwind ride from Renteria to Irun would come before me as the
storm battalions mustered outside, and the waves began lashing
themselves into violence of temper. What if I had to go to Madrid while
such weather as this was brooding? To get to the capital one is obliged
to embark at Bayonne for Santander, and proceed thence by rail--so long
as no Carlist partidas meddle with the track. Romantic Spain!

But are not those Republicans who affect that they know how to govern a
country primarily and principally to blame? Only consider the continued
interruption of that short piece of road between San Sebastian and
Irun. Is it not disgraceful to them? One of our old Indian officers, I
dare venture to believe, with eighteen horsemen and a couple of
companies of foot, could hold it open in spite of the Carlists. But such
a simple idea as the establishment of cavalry patrols of three, keeping
vigil backwards and forwards along the line of eighteen miles, with
stout infantry posts always on the alert in blockhouses at intervals,
seems never to have entered into the obtuse heads of those officers
lately promoted from the ranks. Seeing that the intercourse of different
towns with each other and with the coast and abroad has been so long
broken up, I cannot fathom the secret of how the population lives. The
troops arrive in a village one day and levy contributions, the
guerrilleros arrive the next and do the same; the fields must be
neglected, trade must droop, yet nobody apparently wants food. True, the
land is wonderfully fat; but some day the cry of famine will be heard.
No land could bear this perpetual drain on its resources. And then I
thought of Carlists wh