Intro

Four Poets Loyal to the Republic

The last days of Antonio Machado, Juan Ramón Jiménez, Federico García Lorca, and Miguel Hernández

Ian Gibson 02/11/2007

An Irish writer (born in Dublin in 1939), Ian Gibson obtained Spanish nationality in 1984. In 1975 he decided to become a resident of Spain, the country to which he has devoted most of his historical and literary research.

Since 1958, the remains of the poet, who refused to step foot in Franco's Spain, rest along side Zenobia in the Moguer cemetery, immortalized in his ‘Platero y yo’. (sidebar)

Lorca became the ultimate symbol of the sacrifices of the Spanish people, an innocent victim of fascist rage. A writer had never before been so mourned. (sidebar)

The reformatory director allowed the prisoners to be marched in front of the poet. (sidebar)

[Machado[’s]] body was wrapped in a sheet because that’s how José wanted it based on his interpretation of something Antonio said when speaking of the unnecessary pomp of some funerals. (sidebar)

When Machado died, according to Matea Monedero, “they had to take away the body by lifting it over the bed where mother Ana lay unconscious”. The poet was laid out for mourning in the next room. “Later he was shrouded in a bed sheet because that’s how José wanted it based on his interpretation of something Antonio said one day when speaking of the unnecessary pomp of some burials: ‘In order to bury a person, it is enough to wrap the body in a sheet’”.

“They had barely removed Antonio’s body”, continued Matea, “and although it may seem incredible, mother Ana became aware for a few moments. As soon as she came to, she looked toward Antonio’s bed and asked in a weak and distressed voice, as if nature had informed her of what had happened: ‘Is Antonio here? What has happened?’, and José, controlling himself as best as he could, lied to her, saying that she already knew that Antonio was sick and that they had taken him to a hospital. ‘He’ll get better there’, he said. I remember that mother Ana gave him a look that one could tell meant that she did not believe a single word he said. Then she closed her eyes and three days later she was dead. I am sure that in those three minutes of consciousness she realized that her son had died.

José was also sure that Antonio had died (although he places the “moment of awareness” two days later). “What happened? What happened?”, the mother would ask when seeing Antonio’s empty bed. And José wrote: “I tried in vain to hide it from her. But you can never trick a mother, and she broke into tears like a poor little girl”. (…)

The news of the celebrated Spanish poet’s death has spread through the media, and many people who want to offer their condolences and go to the funeral arrive at Colliure from both Spain and nearby areas of France. Among them is the ex-socialist minister Julián Zugazagoitia (who would later be executed by Franco in 1940), a colleague of Machado’s at La Vanguardia. Knowing the poet’s importance, the French authorities allow twelve soldiers, members of the Spanish Republic’s Second Calvary Brigade who are being detained in the shadowy Royal Castle of Colliure, then a state owned-prison, to leave the prison in two groups so that they can carry the coffin.

The funeral is strictly civil and has a simplicity that reflects the poet’s thinking and personality.

The procession starts off at five in the afternoon. When the coffin is brought down the steps of the Bougnol-Quintana Hotel, it is wrapped in the flag of the Republic that Juliette Figuéres had sewn the night before. (…)

A short time later, a plaque is placed on the poet’s niche, so generously donated by María Deboher. The plaque says, with a terseness worthy of the creator of Abel Martín and Juan de Mairena: "Ici repose. Antonio Machado. Mort en exil. Le 22 février 1939". (…)