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Updated: May 15, 2025
On the sixteenth day of the voyage, one Estevanez, a desperate yet clownish fellow, who was vain of the reputation he had acquired by his intrepidity, took away the canoe from the stern of the brigantine in which he was embarked, and persuaded five other soldiers to accompany him, saying that he was going to perform an exploit to gain fame, and to obtain leave of the captain of the vessel, he pretended that he was going to speak with the general.
I go to meet the members of the Spanish colony, which includes some types which are most interesting. I have gathered a large number of stories and anecdotes in this way, some of which I have incorporated in my books. Don Nicolas Estevanez was a good friend of mine. During my sojourns in Paris, I met him every afternoon in the Cafe de la Fleur in the Boulevard St. Germain.
I believe this story to have been a pure fabrication, but I feel perfectly certain that Estevanez knew beforehand that the crime was to be attempted. Speaking of Estevanez, I recall also Bonafoux, whom I saw frequently. According to Gonzalez de la Pena, the painter, he held my versatility against me. "Bonafoux," remarked Pena, "feels that you are too versatile and too volatile." "Indeed?
Bueno asked some questions about the recent attempt by Moral to assassinate the King in Madrid, and Estevanez suddenly went to pieces. An anarchist told me afterwards that Estevanez had carried the bomb which was thrown by Morral in Madrid, from Paris to Barcelona, at which port he had taken ship for Cuba, by arrangement with the Duke of Bivona.
What a revolutionary personality!" they used to say in Valencia, and once the janitor at the Club added: "To think I knew that man when he was only this high!" And he held out his hand about a metre above the ground. Spain has never produced any revolutionists. Don Nicolas Estevanez, who imagined himself an anarchist, would fly into a rage if he read an article which concealed a gallicism in it.
The Indian canoes, which covered the water for an extent of a quarter of a league, retreated a little way on purpose to separate the Spanish canoes from the brigantines; on which, quite frantic at seeing them give way, Estevanez pushed on, followed by the other canoes which were sent to bring him back.
When I was writing The Last of the Romantics and Grotesque Tragedies, Estevanez furnished me with data and information concerning life in Paris under the Second Empire. When I last saw him in the autumn of 1913, he made a practice of coming to the cafe with a paper scribbled over with notes, to assist his memory to recall the anecdotes which he had it in mind to tell.
When he had got clear of the brigantine, he immediately made towards the enemy, crying out fall on them! they run! When Alvarado saw this mad action he endeavoured to recall Estevanez by sound of trumpet, and sent about forty men after him in several canoes under the command of Juan de Guzman, to bring back Estevanez whom Alvarado intended to hang for his breach of discipline.
"Estevanez has spoken of you to me," he said. "Is he well?" "Yes, very well." A few days later, Lerroux invited me to dinner at the Cafe Ingles. Lerroux, Fuente and I dined together, and then fell to talking. Lerroux asked me to join his party, whereupon I pointed out the qualifications which were lacking in me, which were necessary to a politician.
In what way?" "One day you entered the bar and said to Bonafoux that a testimonial banquet ought to be organized for Estevanez, enlarging upon it enthusiastically. Bonafoux answered: 'Go ahead and make the preparations, and we will all get together. When you came into the cafe a few nights later, Bonafoux asked: 'How about that banquet? 'What banquet? you replied.
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