CHAPTER IX.The Annihilation of Spain.Arrival of the “Death Angels” over Spain. Spaniards cross the Pyrenees into France. The doom of Weyler and his cohorts. “Remember the Maine.” Madrid and the principal cities of Spain in ashes. Portugal’s action applauded. No more ærial warships.On the 21st day of May, 1930, a remarkable sight presented itself over the Pyrenean range of mountains on the northern boundary of Spain, dividing that country from her northerly neighbor, “la belle France.” High above the peaks ofArrival of the “Death Angels.”that natural barrier between those two countries, and visible to the naked eye, could be seen what appeared to be a large flock of birds of enormous size, moving swiftly and silently in a southerly direction.Vast multitudes of Spaniards who were crossing the Pyrenees to seek shelter in French territory, gazed with awe upon the ominous sight presented by these “death angels” as they proceeded south on their errand of destruction. They knew only too well the character of these deadly messengers of war whose use had been prohibited in battle by all civilized nations. In the case of Spain they were not used for purposes of warfare but merely as instrumentsof punishment for her wanton violation of the Treaty.During the preceding thirty days the volume of immigration from Spain into France had kept an unbroken stream. On the 21st day of May, 1930, the appointed day of doom, a large share of the Spanish population had found its way across the border into France, and some of the provinces about Madrid, notably Segovia, Castille and Salamanca, were as innocent of population as the desert of Sahara is of cascades.On that memorable day of May, 1930, the cities of Spain might easily have beenSpanish Cities Two For a Cent.bought up for a song or a jack lantern. Weyler and his ferocious cut-throats, (the same imps who blew up our Maine and martyred 266 brave American sailors), were the only beings who remained in Spain on that day of doom. The gang had the run of the kingdom for a few brief hours and were probably amusing themselves very much after the manner of rats who enjoy the exclusive privilege of a sinking ship.The Butcher and his satellites were holding high carnival in the regal apartments of the Royal Palace in doomed Madrid, when the ærial war craft of America, England and the Allied nations, silently stood guard and floated over the city, veritable angels of death, fearful to behold.The cellars of the Royal Palace had been ransacked and wines of the choicest vintageHandwriting on the Wall.were being guzzled by the Weyler brigands. Amidst revelry and shouting, and the din of rattling castenets, the mazes of fandangos were performed by voluptuous and sinuous Castillian sirens, from whose wild eyes blazed forth that baleful light, incited by wine and unholy passion. These dark, olive-skin belles in their terpsichores before the Butcher and his aides, were as innocent of habiliments as Madame Eve when that exalted personage made her début in Eden. In the midst of this debauchery, and while revelry was yet at its zenith, history again repeated itself. Suddenly, like a prolonged flash of lightning, the revelers saw distinctly the handwriting on the wall. It was an inscription that carried terror and consternation into the hearts of the Weylerites and read: “Remember the Maine.”At this critical and interesting part of the program, Capt. Sigsbee, (then eighty-one years of age,) who in 1930 commanded the ærial warship “Maine,” and who had been especially selected for that mission, gave the signal and from her kelson the ærial “Maine” dropped a little surprise package containing one hundred and thirty pounds of dynamite upon the Royal Palace of Spain. Weyler and his gang, one moment later, were roasting in company with their forefathers.Such, then, was the fate of Weyler, the destroyer of our noble “Maine,” anMore Spanish Mules Killed.arch fiend whose cruel orders were blindly obeyed by others of his ilk, carrying to unhappy Cuba a degree of misery, starvation and death that shocked the entire world.The British ærial warships, as well as those of Germany, Russia, Austria, Italy, France, Holland, Greece and Japan, took their signal from the first shot or discharge of dynamite dropped by the “Maine,” and joined forces with the American ærial warships in the total annihilation of Madrid. The scene of destruction that followed the attack of these ærial warships baffles all belief. Indeed, naught may come within the scope of human imagination that can depict the horrors, wholesale slaughter and utter desolation that may be wrought by ærial warships. Ships floating in the airIt’s Murder in The Air.two miles over a city and dropping within its limits huge charges of dynamite, are fearful engines of destruction. In the twinkle of an eye they can turn stately churches, lofty buildings, beautiful homes, hospitals, colleges, parks and pleasure resorts into ashes, and still vastly more terrible would be the loss of life.THE DESTRUCTION OF MADRID IN 1930.THE DESTRUCTION OF MADRID IN 1930.The bare thought that human beings with souls to save and a God to answer to, might,in a flash, be hurled into eternity by these ærial dynamite ships, without a moment’s warning, and their habitations turned into charnel-houses, is in itself sufficient to make one’s flesh creep.The Washington treaty of 1924, forbidding forever the use of this barbarous method of warfare and threatening with destruction any nation that employed it, was a wise and humane compact.Spain’s flagrant violation of the international treaty in 1929, when she wantonly destroyed Fez and Tangier, was universally condemned. On the other hand, the destruction and razing of Spain in 1930, as a punishment for her bad faith, received the warmest commendations of the world. It was fully realized that Spain’s chastisement fitted her case as perfectly as the bark fits the tree that it encircles.Yet, the razing of Spain in 1930 fills one’s better nature with sadness. TheToo Bad about Spain.widespread destruction of a kingdom replete with historic memories, rich in treasure-troves of art and science, dotted with thriving cities, fertile plains, lovely vales and teeming with beautiful homes, appeals to heart, as well as imagination. Although richly meriting her fate in 1930, Spain’s doom in that year deeply stirred the hearts of all humanity, but the lesson it taught was that the world would never tolerate the use in war ofærial dynamite warships, and this lesson proved a salutary one.From Cadiz to Saragossa, and from Alicante to Corunna, the deadly ærial ships pressed on their way, sweeping destruction before them. The chief cities of Spain, namely, Barcelona, Valencia, Seville, Malaga, Murcia, Cartagena, Granada, Cadiz and Saragossa, were all destroyed in rapid succession, after the fate of Madrid had been decided. The costly palaces of the Madrid grandees crumbled into dust from only a few dynamite discharges of these air-ships.Sad indeed it was to witness the destruction of the magnificent paintings in the Royal Art Gallery of Madrid, containing as it did in 1930 three thousand chef-d’œuvres of the world’s immortal artists. The gallery contained the best examples of Titian, Raphael, Rubens, Muerillo, Van Dyck, Veronese and Tenier, a grand collection of rare paintings that were valued at $300,000,000, and that had required several hundreds of years to collect.Strange to say, in 1930, there was no cathedral in Madrid for the air-ships to destroy. For some reason, unknown even to Spaniards, their national capital had never enjoyed this luxury. It is a maxim, old as the hills, that shoemakers are usually the ones who wear the shabbiest shoes; the ill-dressed man in a community is very apt to be the tailor; the most neglected man duringsickness is oftentimes the physician, and the man who invariably neglects to make his will is the lawyer. Following in the line of this well-established rule, it ceases to be a surprise that priest-ridden Spain, the first-born of Rome, should find herself without a cathedral within the limits of her national capital. If the cathedral of Madrid escaped the palsied touch of the dynamite air-ships the reason therefor was simple enough. Madrid never possessed one.Portugal escaped the ravages of the dynamite air-ships, and in 1999 that kingdomOrdered West by Portugal.still proudly guarded the western shores of the Iberian peninsula. In the spring of the year 1898, Portugal endeared herself to every American heart when her government ordered Admiral Cervera and his squadron to sail away from her possessions, the Cape de Verde islands, and “go west.” Cervera had to face the music, and it was with heavy hearts that the mariners on board of the Oquendo, Marie de Teresa, Vizcaya, Colon, and the torpedo destroyers, Pluton and Furore, weighed anchor and, like Columbus, set their faces toward the Western Hemisphere, but, this time, with the certainty that their noble vessels never again would plough their prows in European waters.The inglorious fate of Spain in 1930 ever after proved a warning to all other nations. In 1999 air-ships navigated the “blueethereal” in every quarter of the globe. It was a safe, economical and swift methodNo More Ærial Warships.of transportation, but after the destruction of Spain, in 1930, ærial warships were put out of commission and condemned. In 1999 so stringent were the international laws against their use that the mere possession of an ærial warship by any nation was likely to embroil others in a war of extermination and on suspicion alone a most rigid investigation was instituted.
CHAPTER IX.The Annihilation of Spain.Arrival of the “Death Angels” over Spain. Spaniards cross the Pyrenees into France. The doom of Weyler and his cohorts. “Remember the Maine.” Madrid and the principal cities of Spain in ashes. Portugal’s action applauded. No more ærial warships.On the 21st day of May, 1930, a remarkable sight presented itself over the Pyrenean range of mountains on the northern boundary of Spain, dividing that country from her northerly neighbor, “la belle France.” High above the peaks ofArrival of the “Death Angels.”that natural barrier between those two countries, and visible to the naked eye, could be seen what appeared to be a large flock of birds of enormous size, moving swiftly and silently in a southerly direction.Vast multitudes of Spaniards who were crossing the Pyrenees to seek shelter in French territory, gazed with awe upon the ominous sight presented by these “death angels” as they proceeded south on their errand of destruction. They knew only too well the character of these deadly messengers of war whose use had been prohibited in battle by all civilized nations. In the case of Spain they were not used for purposes of warfare but merely as instrumentsof punishment for her wanton violation of the Treaty.During the preceding thirty days the volume of immigration from Spain into France had kept an unbroken stream. On the 21st day of May, 1930, the appointed day of doom, a large share of the Spanish population had found its way across the border into France, and some of the provinces about Madrid, notably Segovia, Castille and Salamanca, were as innocent of population as the desert of Sahara is of cascades.On that memorable day of May, 1930, the cities of Spain might easily have beenSpanish Cities Two For a Cent.bought up for a song or a jack lantern. Weyler and his ferocious cut-throats, (the same imps who blew up our Maine and martyred 266 brave American sailors), were the only beings who remained in Spain on that day of doom. The gang had the run of the kingdom for a few brief hours and were probably amusing themselves very much after the manner of rats who enjoy the exclusive privilege of a sinking ship.The Butcher and his satellites were holding high carnival in the regal apartments of the Royal Palace in doomed Madrid, when the ærial war craft of America, England and the Allied nations, silently stood guard and floated over the city, veritable angels of death, fearful to behold.The cellars of the Royal Palace had been ransacked and wines of the choicest vintageHandwriting on the Wall.were being guzzled by the Weyler brigands. Amidst revelry and shouting, and the din of rattling castenets, the mazes of fandangos were performed by voluptuous and sinuous Castillian sirens, from whose wild eyes blazed forth that baleful light, incited by wine and unholy passion. These dark, olive-skin belles in their terpsichores before the Butcher and his aides, were as innocent of habiliments as Madame Eve when that exalted personage made her début in Eden. In the midst of this debauchery, and while revelry was yet at its zenith, history again repeated itself. Suddenly, like a prolonged flash of lightning, the revelers saw distinctly the handwriting on the wall. It was an inscription that carried terror and consternation into the hearts of the Weylerites and read: “Remember the Maine.”At this critical and interesting part of the program, Capt. Sigsbee, (then eighty-one years of age,) who in 1930 commanded the ærial warship “Maine,” and who had been especially selected for that mission, gave the signal and from her kelson the ærial “Maine” dropped a little surprise package containing one hundred and thirty pounds of dynamite upon the Royal Palace of Spain. Weyler and his gang, one moment later, were roasting in company with their forefathers.Such, then, was the fate of Weyler, the destroyer of our noble “Maine,” anMore Spanish Mules Killed.arch fiend whose cruel orders were blindly obeyed by others of his ilk, carrying to unhappy Cuba a degree of misery, starvation and death that shocked the entire world.The British ærial warships, as well as those of Germany, Russia, Austria, Italy, France, Holland, Greece and Japan, took their signal from the first shot or discharge of dynamite dropped by the “Maine,” and joined forces with the American ærial warships in the total annihilation of Madrid. The scene of destruction that followed the attack of these ærial warships baffles all belief. Indeed, naught may come within the scope of human imagination that can depict the horrors, wholesale slaughter and utter desolation that may be wrought by ærial warships. Ships floating in the airIt’s Murder in The Air.two miles over a city and dropping within its limits huge charges of dynamite, are fearful engines of destruction. In the twinkle of an eye they can turn stately churches, lofty buildings, beautiful homes, hospitals, colleges, parks and pleasure resorts into ashes, and still vastly more terrible would be the loss of life.THE DESTRUCTION OF MADRID IN 1930.THE DESTRUCTION OF MADRID IN 1930.The bare thought that human beings with souls to save and a God to answer to, might,in a flash, be hurled into eternity by these ærial dynamite ships, without a moment’s warning, and their habitations turned into charnel-houses, is in itself sufficient to make one’s flesh creep.The Washington treaty of 1924, forbidding forever the use of this barbarous method of warfare and threatening with destruction any nation that employed it, was a wise and humane compact.Spain’s flagrant violation of the international treaty in 1929, when she wantonly destroyed Fez and Tangier, was universally condemned. On the other hand, the destruction and razing of Spain in 1930, as a punishment for her bad faith, received the warmest commendations of the world. It was fully realized that Spain’s chastisement fitted her case as perfectly as the bark fits the tree that it encircles.Yet, the razing of Spain in 1930 fills one’s better nature with sadness. TheToo Bad about Spain.widespread destruction of a kingdom replete with historic memories, rich in treasure-troves of art and science, dotted with thriving cities, fertile plains, lovely vales and teeming with beautiful homes, appeals to heart, as well as imagination. Although richly meriting her fate in 1930, Spain’s doom in that year deeply stirred the hearts of all humanity, but the lesson it taught was that the world would never tolerate the use in war ofærial dynamite warships, and this lesson proved a salutary one.From Cadiz to Saragossa, and from Alicante to Corunna, the deadly ærial ships pressed on their way, sweeping destruction before them. The chief cities of Spain, namely, Barcelona, Valencia, Seville, Malaga, Murcia, Cartagena, Granada, Cadiz and Saragossa, were all destroyed in rapid succession, after the fate of Madrid had been decided. The costly palaces of the Madrid grandees crumbled into dust from only a few dynamite discharges of these air-ships.Sad indeed it was to witness the destruction of the magnificent paintings in the Royal Art Gallery of Madrid, containing as it did in 1930 three thousand chef-d’œuvres of the world’s immortal artists. The gallery contained the best examples of Titian, Raphael, Rubens, Muerillo, Van Dyck, Veronese and Tenier, a grand collection of rare paintings that were valued at $300,000,000, and that had required several hundreds of years to collect.Strange to say, in 1930, there was no cathedral in Madrid for the air-ships to destroy. For some reason, unknown even to Spaniards, their national capital had never enjoyed this luxury. It is a maxim, old as the hills, that shoemakers are usually the ones who wear the shabbiest shoes; the ill-dressed man in a community is very apt to be the tailor; the most neglected man duringsickness is oftentimes the physician, and the man who invariably neglects to make his will is the lawyer. Following in the line of this well-established rule, it ceases to be a surprise that priest-ridden Spain, the first-born of Rome, should find herself without a cathedral within the limits of her national capital. If the cathedral of Madrid escaped the palsied touch of the dynamite air-ships the reason therefor was simple enough. Madrid never possessed one.Portugal escaped the ravages of the dynamite air-ships, and in 1999 that kingdomOrdered West by Portugal.still proudly guarded the western shores of the Iberian peninsula. In the spring of the year 1898, Portugal endeared herself to every American heart when her government ordered Admiral Cervera and his squadron to sail away from her possessions, the Cape de Verde islands, and “go west.” Cervera had to face the music, and it was with heavy hearts that the mariners on board of the Oquendo, Marie de Teresa, Vizcaya, Colon, and the torpedo destroyers, Pluton and Furore, weighed anchor and, like Columbus, set their faces toward the Western Hemisphere, but, this time, with the certainty that their noble vessels never again would plough their prows in European waters.The inglorious fate of Spain in 1930 ever after proved a warning to all other nations. In 1999 air-ships navigated the “blueethereal” in every quarter of the globe. It was a safe, economical and swift methodNo More Ærial Warships.of transportation, but after the destruction of Spain, in 1930, ærial warships were put out of commission and condemned. In 1999 so stringent were the international laws against their use that the mere possession of an ærial warship by any nation was likely to embroil others in a war of extermination and on suspicion alone a most rigid investigation was instituted.
CHAPTER IX.The Annihilation of Spain.Arrival of the “Death Angels” over Spain. Spaniards cross the Pyrenees into France. The doom of Weyler and his cohorts. “Remember the Maine.” Madrid and the principal cities of Spain in ashes. Portugal’s action applauded. No more ærial warships.
Arrival of the “Death Angels” over Spain. Spaniards cross the Pyrenees into France. The doom of Weyler and his cohorts. “Remember the Maine.” Madrid and the principal cities of Spain in ashes. Portugal’s action applauded. No more ærial warships.
Arrival of the “Death Angels” over Spain. Spaniards cross the Pyrenees into France. The doom of Weyler and his cohorts. “Remember the Maine.” Madrid and the principal cities of Spain in ashes. Portugal’s action applauded. No more ærial warships.
On the 21st day of May, 1930, a remarkable sight presented itself over the Pyrenean range of mountains on the northern boundary of Spain, dividing that country from her northerly neighbor, “la belle France.” High above the peaks ofArrival of the “Death Angels.”that natural barrier between those two countries, and visible to the naked eye, could be seen what appeared to be a large flock of birds of enormous size, moving swiftly and silently in a southerly direction.Vast multitudes of Spaniards who were crossing the Pyrenees to seek shelter in French territory, gazed with awe upon the ominous sight presented by these “death angels” as they proceeded south on their errand of destruction. They knew only too well the character of these deadly messengers of war whose use had been prohibited in battle by all civilized nations. In the case of Spain they were not used for purposes of warfare but merely as instrumentsof punishment for her wanton violation of the Treaty.During the preceding thirty days the volume of immigration from Spain into France had kept an unbroken stream. On the 21st day of May, 1930, the appointed day of doom, a large share of the Spanish population had found its way across the border into France, and some of the provinces about Madrid, notably Segovia, Castille and Salamanca, were as innocent of population as the desert of Sahara is of cascades.On that memorable day of May, 1930, the cities of Spain might easily have beenSpanish Cities Two For a Cent.bought up for a song or a jack lantern. Weyler and his ferocious cut-throats, (the same imps who blew up our Maine and martyred 266 brave American sailors), were the only beings who remained in Spain on that day of doom. The gang had the run of the kingdom for a few brief hours and were probably amusing themselves very much after the manner of rats who enjoy the exclusive privilege of a sinking ship.The Butcher and his satellites were holding high carnival in the regal apartments of the Royal Palace in doomed Madrid, when the ærial war craft of America, England and the Allied nations, silently stood guard and floated over the city, veritable angels of death, fearful to behold.The cellars of the Royal Palace had been ransacked and wines of the choicest vintageHandwriting on the Wall.were being guzzled by the Weyler brigands. Amidst revelry and shouting, and the din of rattling castenets, the mazes of fandangos were performed by voluptuous and sinuous Castillian sirens, from whose wild eyes blazed forth that baleful light, incited by wine and unholy passion. These dark, olive-skin belles in their terpsichores before the Butcher and his aides, were as innocent of habiliments as Madame Eve when that exalted personage made her début in Eden. In the midst of this debauchery, and while revelry was yet at its zenith, history again repeated itself. Suddenly, like a prolonged flash of lightning, the revelers saw distinctly the handwriting on the wall. It was an inscription that carried terror and consternation into the hearts of the Weylerites and read: “Remember the Maine.”At this critical and interesting part of the program, Capt. Sigsbee, (then eighty-one years of age,) who in 1930 commanded the ærial warship “Maine,” and who had been especially selected for that mission, gave the signal and from her kelson the ærial “Maine” dropped a little surprise package containing one hundred and thirty pounds of dynamite upon the Royal Palace of Spain. Weyler and his gang, one moment later, were roasting in company with their forefathers.Such, then, was the fate of Weyler, the destroyer of our noble “Maine,” anMore Spanish Mules Killed.arch fiend whose cruel orders were blindly obeyed by others of his ilk, carrying to unhappy Cuba a degree of misery, starvation and death that shocked the entire world.The British ærial warships, as well as those of Germany, Russia, Austria, Italy, France, Holland, Greece and Japan, took their signal from the first shot or discharge of dynamite dropped by the “Maine,” and joined forces with the American ærial warships in the total annihilation of Madrid. The scene of destruction that followed the attack of these ærial warships baffles all belief. Indeed, naught may come within the scope of human imagination that can depict the horrors, wholesale slaughter and utter desolation that may be wrought by ærial warships. Ships floating in the airIt’s Murder in The Air.two miles over a city and dropping within its limits huge charges of dynamite, are fearful engines of destruction. In the twinkle of an eye they can turn stately churches, lofty buildings, beautiful homes, hospitals, colleges, parks and pleasure resorts into ashes, and still vastly more terrible would be the loss of life.THE DESTRUCTION OF MADRID IN 1930.THE DESTRUCTION OF MADRID IN 1930.The bare thought that human beings with souls to save and a God to answer to, might,in a flash, be hurled into eternity by these ærial dynamite ships, without a moment’s warning, and their habitations turned into charnel-houses, is in itself sufficient to make one’s flesh creep.The Washington treaty of 1924, forbidding forever the use of this barbarous method of warfare and threatening with destruction any nation that employed it, was a wise and humane compact.Spain’s flagrant violation of the international treaty in 1929, when she wantonly destroyed Fez and Tangier, was universally condemned. On the other hand, the destruction and razing of Spain in 1930, as a punishment for her bad faith, received the warmest commendations of the world. It was fully realized that Spain’s chastisement fitted her case as perfectly as the bark fits the tree that it encircles.Yet, the razing of Spain in 1930 fills one’s better nature with sadness. TheToo Bad about Spain.widespread destruction of a kingdom replete with historic memories, rich in treasure-troves of art and science, dotted with thriving cities, fertile plains, lovely vales and teeming with beautiful homes, appeals to heart, as well as imagination. Although richly meriting her fate in 1930, Spain’s doom in that year deeply stirred the hearts of all humanity, but the lesson it taught was that the world would never tolerate the use in war ofærial dynamite warships, and this lesson proved a salutary one.From Cadiz to Saragossa, and from Alicante to Corunna, the deadly ærial ships pressed on their way, sweeping destruction before them. The chief cities of Spain, namely, Barcelona, Valencia, Seville, Malaga, Murcia, Cartagena, Granada, Cadiz and Saragossa, were all destroyed in rapid succession, after the fate of Madrid had been decided. The costly palaces of the Madrid grandees crumbled into dust from only a few dynamite discharges of these air-ships.Sad indeed it was to witness the destruction of the magnificent paintings in the Royal Art Gallery of Madrid, containing as it did in 1930 three thousand chef-d’œuvres of the world’s immortal artists. The gallery contained the best examples of Titian, Raphael, Rubens, Muerillo, Van Dyck, Veronese and Tenier, a grand collection of rare paintings that were valued at $300,000,000, and that had required several hundreds of years to collect.Strange to say, in 1930, there was no cathedral in Madrid for the air-ships to destroy. For some reason, unknown even to Spaniards, their national capital had never enjoyed this luxury. It is a maxim, old as the hills, that shoemakers are usually the ones who wear the shabbiest shoes; the ill-dressed man in a community is very apt to be the tailor; the most neglected man duringsickness is oftentimes the physician, and the man who invariably neglects to make his will is the lawyer. Following in the line of this well-established rule, it ceases to be a surprise that priest-ridden Spain, the first-born of Rome, should find herself without a cathedral within the limits of her national capital. If the cathedral of Madrid escaped the palsied touch of the dynamite air-ships the reason therefor was simple enough. Madrid never possessed one.Portugal escaped the ravages of the dynamite air-ships, and in 1999 that kingdomOrdered West by Portugal.still proudly guarded the western shores of the Iberian peninsula. In the spring of the year 1898, Portugal endeared herself to every American heart when her government ordered Admiral Cervera and his squadron to sail away from her possessions, the Cape de Verde islands, and “go west.” Cervera had to face the music, and it was with heavy hearts that the mariners on board of the Oquendo, Marie de Teresa, Vizcaya, Colon, and the torpedo destroyers, Pluton and Furore, weighed anchor and, like Columbus, set their faces toward the Western Hemisphere, but, this time, with the certainty that their noble vessels never again would plough their prows in European waters.The inglorious fate of Spain in 1930 ever after proved a warning to all other nations. In 1999 air-ships navigated the “blueethereal” in every quarter of the globe. It was a safe, economical and swift methodNo More Ærial Warships.of transportation, but after the destruction of Spain, in 1930, ærial warships were put out of commission and condemned. In 1999 so stringent were the international laws against their use that the mere possession of an ærial warship by any nation was likely to embroil others in a war of extermination and on suspicion alone a most rigid investigation was instituted.
On the 21st day of May, 1930, a remarkable sight presented itself over the Pyrenean range of mountains on the northern boundary of Spain, dividing that country from her northerly neighbor, “la belle France.” High above the peaks ofArrival of the “Death Angels.”that natural barrier between those two countries, and visible to the naked eye, could be seen what appeared to be a large flock of birds of enormous size, moving swiftly and silently in a southerly direction.
Vast multitudes of Spaniards who were crossing the Pyrenees to seek shelter in French territory, gazed with awe upon the ominous sight presented by these “death angels” as they proceeded south on their errand of destruction. They knew only too well the character of these deadly messengers of war whose use had been prohibited in battle by all civilized nations. In the case of Spain they were not used for purposes of warfare but merely as instrumentsof punishment for her wanton violation of the Treaty.
During the preceding thirty days the volume of immigration from Spain into France had kept an unbroken stream. On the 21st day of May, 1930, the appointed day of doom, a large share of the Spanish population had found its way across the border into France, and some of the provinces about Madrid, notably Segovia, Castille and Salamanca, were as innocent of population as the desert of Sahara is of cascades.
On that memorable day of May, 1930, the cities of Spain might easily have beenSpanish Cities Two For a Cent.bought up for a song or a jack lantern. Weyler and his ferocious cut-throats, (the same imps who blew up our Maine and martyred 266 brave American sailors), were the only beings who remained in Spain on that day of doom. The gang had the run of the kingdom for a few brief hours and were probably amusing themselves very much after the manner of rats who enjoy the exclusive privilege of a sinking ship.
The Butcher and his satellites were holding high carnival in the regal apartments of the Royal Palace in doomed Madrid, when the ærial war craft of America, England and the Allied nations, silently stood guard and floated over the city, veritable angels of death, fearful to behold.
The cellars of the Royal Palace had been ransacked and wines of the choicest vintageHandwriting on the Wall.were being guzzled by the Weyler brigands. Amidst revelry and shouting, and the din of rattling castenets, the mazes of fandangos were performed by voluptuous and sinuous Castillian sirens, from whose wild eyes blazed forth that baleful light, incited by wine and unholy passion. These dark, olive-skin belles in their terpsichores before the Butcher and his aides, were as innocent of habiliments as Madame Eve when that exalted personage made her début in Eden. In the midst of this debauchery, and while revelry was yet at its zenith, history again repeated itself. Suddenly, like a prolonged flash of lightning, the revelers saw distinctly the handwriting on the wall. It was an inscription that carried terror and consternation into the hearts of the Weylerites and read: “Remember the Maine.”
At this critical and interesting part of the program, Capt. Sigsbee, (then eighty-one years of age,) who in 1930 commanded the ærial warship “Maine,” and who had been especially selected for that mission, gave the signal and from her kelson the ærial “Maine” dropped a little surprise package containing one hundred and thirty pounds of dynamite upon the Royal Palace of Spain. Weyler and his gang, one moment later, were roasting in company with their forefathers.Such, then, was the fate of Weyler, the destroyer of our noble “Maine,” anMore Spanish Mules Killed.arch fiend whose cruel orders were blindly obeyed by others of his ilk, carrying to unhappy Cuba a degree of misery, starvation and death that shocked the entire world.
The British ærial warships, as well as those of Germany, Russia, Austria, Italy, France, Holland, Greece and Japan, took their signal from the first shot or discharge of dynamite dropped by the “Maine,” and joined forces with the American ærial warships in the total annihilation of Madrid. The scene of destruction that followed the attack of these ærial warships baffles all belief. Indeed, naught may come within the scope of human imagination that can depict the horrors, wholesale slaughter and utter desolation that may be wrought by ærial warships. Ships floating in the airIt’s Murder in The Air.two miles over a city and dropping within its limits huge charges of dynamite, are fearful engines of destruction. In the twinkle of an eye they can turn stately churches, lofty buildings, beautiful homes, hospitals, colleges, parks and pleasure resorts into ashes, and still vastly more terrible would be the loss of life.
THE DESTRUCTION OF MADRID IN 1930.THE DESTRUCTION OF MADRID IN 1930.
THE DESTRUCTION OF MADRID IN 1930.
The bare thought that human beings with souls to save and a God to answer to, might,in a flash, be hurled into eternity by these ærial dynamite ships, without a moment’s warning, and their habitations turned into charnel-houses, is in itself sufficient to make one’s flesh creep.
The Washington treaty of 1924, forbidding forever the use of this barbarous method of warfare and threatening with destruction any nation that employed it, was a wise and humane compact.
Spain’s flagrant violation of the international treaty in 1929, when she wantonly destroyed Fez and Tangier, was universally condemned. On the other hand, the destruction and razing of Spain in 1930, as a punishment for her bad faith, received the warmest commendations of the world. It was fully realized that Spain’s chastisement fitted her case as perfectly as the bark fits the tree that it encircles.
Yet, the razing of Spain in 1930 fills one’s better nature with sadness. TheToo Bad about Spain.widespread destruction of a kingdom replete with historic memories, rich in treasure-troves of art and science, dotted with thriving cities, fertile plains, lovely vales and teeming with beautiful homes, appeals to heart, as well as imagination. Although richly meriting her fate in 1930, Spain’s doom in that year deeply stirred the hearts of all humanity, but the lesson it taught was that the world would never tolerate the use in war ofærial dynamite warships, and this lesson proved a salutary one.
From Cadiz to Saragossa, and from Alicante to Corunna, the deadly ærial ships pressed on their way, sweeping destruction before them. The chief cities of Spain, namely, Barcelona, Valencia, Seville, Malaga, Murcia, Cartagena, Granada, Cadiz and Saragossa, were all destroyed in rapid succession, after the fate of Madrid had been decided. The costly palaces of the Madrid grandees crumbled into dust from only a few dynamite discharges of these air-ships.
Sad indeed it was to witness the destruction of the magnificent paintings in the Royal Art Gallery of Madrid, containing as it did in 1930 three thousand chef-d’œuvres of the world’s immortal artists. The gallery contained the best examples of Titian, Raphael, Rubens, Muerillo, Van Dyck, Veronese and Tenier, a grand collection of rare paintings that were valued at $300,000,000, and that had required several hundreds of years to collect.
Strange to say, in 1930, there was no cathedral in Madrid for the air-ships to destroy. For some reason, unknown even to Spaniards, their national capital had never enjoyed this luxury. It is a maxim, old as the hills, that shoemakers are usually the ones who wear the shabbiest shoes; the ill-dressed man in a community is very apt to be the tailor; the most neglected man duringsickness is oftentimes the physician, and the man who invariably neglects to make his will is the lawyer. Following in the line of this well-established rule, it ceases to be a surprise that priest-ridden Spain, the first-born of Rome, should find herself without a cathedral within the limits of her national capital. If the cathedral of Madrid escaped the palsied touch of the dynamite air-ships the reason therefor was simple enough. Madrid never possessed one.
Portugal escaped the ravages of the dynamite air-ships, and in 1999 that kingdomOrdered West by Portugal.still proudly guarded the western shores of the Iberian peninsula. In the spring of the year 1898, Portugal endeared herself to every American heart when her government ordered Admiral Cervera and his squadron to sail away from her possessions, the Cape de Verde islands, and “go west.” Cervera had to face the music, and it was with heavy hearts that the mariners on board of the Oquendo, Marie de Teresa, Vizcaya, Colon, and the torpedo destroyers, Pluton and Furore, weighed anchor and, like Columbus, set their faces toward the Western Hemisphere, but, this time, with the certainty that their noble vessels never again would plough their prows in European waters.
The inglorious fate of Spain in 1930 ever after proved a warning to all other nations. In 1999 air-ships navigated the “blueethereal” in every quarter of the globe. It was a safe, economical and swift methodNo More Ærial Warships.of transportation, but after the destruction of Spain, in 1930, ærial warships were put out of commission and condemned. In 1999 so stringent were the international laws against their use that the mere possession of an ærial warship by any nation was likely to embroil others in a war of extermination and on suspicion alone a most rigid investigation was instituted.