The materials of modern history are very ample, but sometimes
not very clear. If there is any human being outside Spain who understands the Ferrol rising, he certainly is not in a newspaper office. All that can be gathered from the torrents of words is that on 11th October, 1,500 men in the arsenal, presumably artisans, broke out in revolt, presumably in Republican interests, as they raised the Red Flag. The local authorities telegraphed for aid, troops were sent from Corunna, and S. Zorrilla talked largely about his determination to be 'stern. When the troops arrived, however, the Alcalde asked time to compromise with the insurgents, who on their part amused themselves by getting blind drunk,—quite a novel incident in Spanish dmeutes. On their recovery, 17th inst., they ran away, and the troops entered the arsenal without resistance. Our private impression about that story is that the dmeute was originally a strike for wages; that Colonel Paso, a dismissed officer, contrived to give it a political colour ; that the men were made drunk to keep them ignorant of their position, and that when they found it out they bolted. If that is correct, the only serious feature in the matter is the sort of surprise expressed in Spain at the loyalty of the Navy.
