The Development of the Cuban Military as a Sociopolitical Elite, 1763-83

The reformed Bourbon military has emerged from recent literature with something less than an imposing reputation. In his pioneering work on New Spain, Lyle N. McAlister stressed the propensity of the Mexican military to engage in frivolous, damaging jurisdictional disputes, thereby clogging the administration of justice, and, in the process, ultimately undermining royal authority. One might wonder if the Mexican soldiery was capable of fighting outside the courtroom.¹ Christon Archer, while dismissing the fuero militar as a “minor privilege,” nevertheless painted an even drearier picture of the Mexican army. Among the many colorful images that emerge from his work, perhaps the most memorable are those of fever-ridden troops lying ill at Veracruz and dying in droves, while local merchants turned a pretty profit at their expense, and of inland militiamen lamely marching through their Sunday drills, pieces falling from their aging muskets, all the while dreaming of the opportunity to desert.² Leon Campbell revealed that the disciplined militia of upland Peru proved so inept at coping with Túpac Amaru that the authorities disbanded it in disgust.³ My own work on New Granada showed that while the reformed army registered improvements in external defense and scored some successes in containing the Comuneros, it failed miserably on the frontiers, and, in the long run, probably did more to weaken Spain’s ability to combat internal dissent than to strengthen it.⁴ Given the many millions of pesos that Spain invested in its armed forces and the broad, controversial fiscal, economic, and political reforms that it undertook to sustain them, the question arises whether the military reform actually worked. Were the Spaniards fools who mindlessly poured peso after peso into a worthless, self-defeating defense system? Or did Spain’s military posture in America improve, and if so, why? An analysis of events in Cuba, which hosted the pilot project for the reforms of Charles III, can provide a partial answer to these questions and advance understanding of the broader imperial reorganization.

The reform of the Cuban military began even before the Seven Years’ War ended. Havana had fallen to a vastly superior British force in August 1762; under the Treaty of Paris (February 10, 1763), Spain would surrender Florida in order to retrieve the Pearl of the Antilles. In a memo of January 20, 1763, to the king, the Conde de Ricla argued that Spain’s regular army could never hope to match the manpower of the British in America, given the British capacity to select their point of attack and to marshall their forces. Consequently, Ricla advocated arming the colonials. A disciplined militia, fashioned after the system already in place in Spain, should be introduced into Cuba. This system, which provided the militia with a standard table of organization, with systematic training under the supervision of cadres of veteran officers and enlisted men, with uniforms, firearms, and other equipment, and with the fuero militar, was an efficient means of usefully involving local vassals in defense. Operating in concert with veteran forces, such troops could, Ricla asserted, produce at a reasonable cost the kind of trained manpower required to compete with the British.⁵ Ricla possessed extensive administrative and military experience as well as important connections in court, being the cousin of the Conde de Aranda and having access to the king at all times.⁶ On March 16, 1763, Charles accepted Ricla’s proposal and named him captain general of Cuba.⁷

For inspector general of the army, Ricla chose a close personal friend with a brilliant service record, Field Marshal Alejandro O’Reilly. Burdened by his obligation to restore orderly administration to the island and to supervise the rebuilding of the fortifications of Havana, Ricla remained in Havana and granted O’Reilly a free hand in reforming the army.⁸ The inspector general quickly reestablished the fixed infantry, cavalry, and artillery units. Under Ricla’s plan, one infantry regiment from Spain would reinforce these units at all times. This measure brought the authorized strength of the veteran garrison to 3,208, compared to 2,112 before the war.⁹ O’Reilly then raised a disciplined militia of eight infantry battalions and single regiments of cavalry and dragoons, totaling 7,500 soldiers.¹⁰ These units, if properly sustained with veteran personnel, equipment, and training, promised to remedy much of the manpower deficiency that had led to defeat in 1762.

A fundamental problem confronting military reorganization in Cuba was finance. The regular army alone required 647,775 pesos annually in the form of salaries. The troops also had to be housed and equipped.¹¹ The veteran personnel assigned to the militia required an additional 110,121 pesos, and the cost of uniforming and equipping the militia added approximately 30,000 pesos a year.¹² Finally, fortification construction and maintenance costs were expected to run at least a half million pesos annually. On the eve of Spain’s entrance into the Seven Years’ War, the income of the royal treasury in Cuba had reached just under 178,000 pesos, a deplorably inadequate sum to finance the needs of the colony. Some help came from New Spain. Under policies established by Viceroy Revillagigedo in 1753, the treasury in Mexico subsidized Cuba with nearly a half million pesos annually for defense; the crown reaffirmed that practice in 1763, but restricted Mexican monies to construction of fortifications.¹³ The expenses for the army were to be met from Cuban sources, a decision that had as an implied corollary the need for ambitious, perhaps revolutionary, measures to raise revenues.

The regime of Charles III is famous for its enlightened character and Charles has properly been celebrated as a premier reformer. That Charles was a man of reason there can be no doubt, but to assume that his reforms arose primarily from the humanitarian and liberating inspiration of the Philosophes would be a serious distortion of reality. Charles’s reforms arose from the demands of imperial security. A rationalization of economic and political policy was the means to wage war more effectively.¹⁴ Charles, like his contemporaries, emerged from the Seven Years’ War with the understanding that another conflict was inevitable and that new sources of revenue were absolutely imperative. Thus, when he sent Ricla to Cuba, Charles also instructed him to seek the financial means to support the expanded army. Ricla’s efforts to do so, when combined with the military reorganization, marked the beginning of Charles III’s reforms in America.

Tax increases of any size ordinarily entailed serious political risks; changes of the magnitude needed to meet the enormous military requirements of Cuba demanded the greatest discretion. Historians of Spanish America have realized for some time that government under Spanish absolutism customarily proceeded through consultation and compromise between crown and vassals, but the events that unfolded in Havana were remarkable both for their openness and, in the long run, for their results.¹⁵ Charles had instructed Ricla to proceed cautiously, and to consult the creole leadership about possible solutions to the military and financial dilemmas.¹⁶ Ricla’s success in structuring a workable formula was impressive and laid the foundation for Spanish revenge on the British in the Gulf of Mexico during the War of the American Revolution. His reforms endured for decades thereafter in a spirit of cooperation between crown and vassals that was probably unique in the New World.

Acting through a Jesuit intermediary, Father Ignacio Tomás Butler, Ricla sponsored a series of semiofficial meetings with the representatives of some thirty leading families of Havana. He and O’Reilly promised commercial privileges and military titles in return for the creole acceptance both of new taxes and a stricter enforcement of revenue laws. When the Havana elite responded favorably to these proposals, an understanding emerged that was a model of pragmatism and compromise.¹⁷ Under the new arrangement the crown raised the alcabala from 2 to 6 percent and placed a new tax of two pesos per barrel on the sale of aguardiente and a silver real on the sale of sambumbia (a native liquor).¹⁸ The crown appointed an intendente de ejército in Havana to ensure the efficient collection and disbursement of revenues,¹⁹ and ordered comparatively stringent measures to combat smuggling.²⁰

In return for accepting the increased tax burden, Cubans received significant commercial concessions. A royal order of October 16, 1765, opened nine Spanish ports to Cuba and consolidated import duties to a flat 6 percent ad valorem for national products and 7 percent for foreign.²¹ Equally significant, a second royal order of October 16, 1765, consolidated the numerous, cumbersome fees on the sale and export of sugar into a single tax of 6 percent. That same order abolished all taxes on the importation of slaves, and, although the crown formally honored a monopoly previously granted to Spanish asentistas, local authorities during the years ahead rather openly tolerated the smuggling of slaves into Cuba. Apart from having political value, these measures were intended to stimulate the sugar industry, which had begun to show notable strength during the preceding quarter century, and to increase revenues by encouraging a larger volume of legal, taxable commerce.²² The capstone on the arrangement between crown and Cuban patriciate was the guarantee articulated by O’Reilly and codified in 1769 in the Reglamento para las milicias … de Cuba, that militia offices would be reserved for the best families and, especially, that colonelcies would be reserved for the most distinguished subjects, who have illustrious qualities, men of spirit, honor … and sufficient wealth to sustain the dignity of the office.”²³

To summarize, Cubans would pay heavier taxes, but they would be provided with commercial opportunities to generate those monies. Above all, the partriciate would command the forces that the new taxes funded. Thus, woven into a single fabric were the four threads of fiscal reform, commercial reform, administrative reform, and, above all, military reform. The officers whom O’Reilly named to colonelcies in the Havana-Matanzas militia included the Conde de Casa Bayona, the Conde de Giba-coa, and Juan O’Farrill.²⁴ The last headed a clan that would soon include as sons-in-law the future Marqués del Real Socorro and the future Conde de Casa Montalvo. These men and O’Farrill’s nephew, the Conde de Buena Vista, would all eventually acquire colonelcies.²⁵ Represented in the captaincies were members of the Santa Cruz, Herrera, Peñalver, Cárdenas, Zayas, Arango, Barrera, and Duarte families.²⁶ Most, if not all, of these families held substantial investments in sugar production, dominated political office in Havana, and stood to benefit directly from the new commercial privileges.²⁷ Moreover, Charles, using an obscure legal precedent, embellished the status of the Cuban militia by granting its officers and sergeants the fuero activo. This privilege permitted the holder to use the fuero when he was a plaintiff, a prerogative heretofore enjoyed only by His Majesty’s Royal Guard.²⁸

That the creole patriciate understood fully the political and military significance of the new arrangement is abundantly clear. In a letter of April 1764, the newly appointed colonels and captains of the Volunteer Regiment of White Infantry of Havana thanked Charles for the distinction that he had bestowed upon them and in so doing connected their performance during the initial daily drills to an appreciation for their new status.

The economic and fiscal results of the new policies were spectacular and worked to strengthen the tie between Madrid and Havana. Legal sugar exports increased from an annual average of 2,000 tons between 1764 and 1769 to more than 10,000 tons during the 1770s. Sugar plantings expanded from about 10,000 acres in 1763 to 160,000 by 1792.³⁰ To power this revolution, approximately 60,000 to 70,000 slaves were sold in Cuba between 1763 and 1789.³¹ Royal revenues reflected the growth in sugar production, averaging 535,404 pesos annually between 1765 and 1775 and surging to a yearly average of 1,003,745 during the following decade.³² The understanding of 1764-65 benefited both the crown and the creole elite. Those creoles who gained the most included the Marqués del Real Socorro, the Condes de Casa Montalvo and Buena Vista, and the O’Farrill, Peñalver, Duarte, Cárdenas, Herrera, and Arango families.³³

During the interlude between the Ricla mission and Spain’s intervention in the War of the American Revolution in 1779, practices to sustain the disciplined militia conformed reasonably well to policy, owing in large measure to close cooperation between the crown and the Cuban elite as represented in the officer corps and municipal governments. Although the officers and men initially provided their own uniforms, the crown, at its own expense, uniformed the militia in 1769 and again in 1776. By the latter date, however, the several municipalities, under royal prodding, had taken measures to meet this cost with local revenues, a practice followed thereafter. The royal purse also provided firearms and bayonets for the militia when it was first organized, weapons that were still in use in 1779. By that time, pieces were indeed falling off rusted muskets, as Archer found for New Spain, and local officers properly registered anguished protests. Realistically, however, it made little sense to equip the militia with new weapons. Volunteers could conduct their Sunday drills as well with rusty muskets as with shiny ones, and during bimonthly firing practices, enough functional pieces could be assembled to enable all to fire their twelve to fifteen rounds. The test would be to provide functional weapons at the time of mobilization. Havana’s ayuntamiento, incidentally, arranged to finance new muskets for its militia every twelve years, although this measure came too late to be of much help in 1779.³⁴

Cooperation also prevailed at the political level. Conspicuously absent were challenges to the military fuero.³⁵ And with the support of local authorities who produced candidates for induction, the militia routinely met its annual quota of recruits. Over the years the proportion of volunteers who could perform the expected skills rose to more than three-fourths of the authorized strengths.³⁶ Top officers such as Antonio de Bucareli and Bernardo de Gálvez rated the Havana militia equal to veteran troops.³⁷

To provide reinforcement for the regular army in time of crisis, the authorities planned to send one or two Spanish regiments to Havana so that its far-flung fortification complex might be manned fully.³⁸ When the rebellion in the English colonies intensified and the British dramatically increased their forces in America, Spain reacted defensively, deploying first one, then two, additional regiments in Cuba.³⁹ These actions conformed to Spanish behavior during the Falkland Island crisis of 1770-71 when the crown also ordered two additional regiments to Cuba.⁴⁰

When insurgent victories and the French intervention turned the Anglo-American rebellion into an opportunity for revenge, Spain’s first priority was Gibraltar, meaning that America received little immediate aid. The siege encumbered the main Spanish forces until January 1780 when Rodney broke the Spanish blockade. Spain shifted priorities at that point, seeking to fulfill its opportunities in the American theater. An army of operations totaling 7,737 men embarked from Cadiz in April 1780, along with another regiment for Havana to compensate for manpower losses arising largely from disease.⁴¹ Unhappily, these troops were ravaged by an epidemic and then, for a number of reasons, scattered throughout the French and Spanish Antilles. As late as October the army could muster only 2, 321 able-bodied men in Havana, and this well after the early action in the Gulf of Mexico was over.⁴²

Space does not permit a blow-by-blow analysis of the Gulf campaign, but the pattern of Spanish action is sufficiently clear to permit summarization. Bernardo de Galvez struck from New Orleans at Manchak and Baton Bouge in September 1779, conquered Mobile in March 1780, and scored a decisive victory at Pensacola in May 1781. In these campaigns, most of the fighting was done by the Louisiana and Cuban garrisons. At Manchak and Baton Rouge, forces from New Orleans carried the main burden, but with key support from Cuba; Mobile was almost entirely a Cuban action; and the army at Pensacola was primarily Cuban, although the Army of Operations, the armada, and the French rendered important assistance.⁴³

To free veteran forces from the Havana garrison for offensive purposes, the captain general mobilized appropriate numbers of militiamen, provided them with new firearms as needed, and assigned them to man the fortifications.⁴⁴ Moreover, eight new muskets per company were provided for the units of Havana, Matanzas, and Santiago to ensure adequate means to conduct firing practices.⁴⁵ Militiamen normally did not see action outside Cuba, but sizable detachments from the Havana battalions of pardos and morenos fought in the Mobile and Pensacola campaigns, and on several occasions detachments of up to four companies from the Volunteer Regiment of White Infantry served as marines in the armada.⁴⁶

The most critical and revealing test of the reformed military system came during the late fall of 1780 when a hurricane caught the first invasion force destined for Pensacola—some 3, 833 men—and scattered it from Mobile to New Orleans to Campeche. While part of these troops could be, and indeed were, reassembled, to attempt a second invasion would leave Havana almost without veteran forces except for those of the bedridden and convalescing Army of Operations. A junta de generales, which convened to consider strategy, resolved to proceed with another invasion anyway, concluding, significantly, that the disciplined militia was capable of resisting any possible British strike beneath Florida into Cuba.⁴⁷ Regular troops were thus freed for offensive action and ultimate victory. In the face of this evidence, it is clear that the reformed military system worked, and worked well, in its most crucial test in America. This achievement surely justified the retention of the disciplined militia in the colonies during the succeeding decades.

In Cuba, the arrangement between the crown and elite endured. By the 1790s, for example, the sons of the first colonels commanded their fathers’ units.⁴⁸ And when an “enlightened” element challenged the active fuero in a prolonged, spirited dispute during the 1790s, Charles IV ultimately supported the militia.⁴⁹ On the commercial level, in 1789 the crown granted Cubans the right to purchase slaves from any available source. And the Cuban ability to extract special lucrative privileges in neutral trade is notorious. Accordingly, the Cuban elite continued its dizzying, but perilous, plunge into the sugar revolution.

Author notes