The strange misshapen houses of which Barcelona is so proud were close shuttered and dark last week. No lights twinkled in the sloping Plaza Catalonia. Under the plane trees the boulevards were silent except for the clop-clop of cavalry patrols making their rounds and the sudden roar of an armored car.
The Syndicalists, bane of the young republic, were out on a general strike. No milk was delivered, no garbage collected. Electric light and gas lines were cut. No trolleys ran. Violence started when Civil Governor Anguero visited the jail to plead...
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