Page 54 - Archaeology - October 2017
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Cave—more marginal, less centrally located, less strategically
useful. To Fanjul, its characteristics are reflective of how things
changed for the fugitives as time passed. It is said that 10 men
hid in the cave, raiding local flocks of sheep, rather than attack-
ing Nationalists. Local history says that they met the same fate
as the men in the Black Cave—given up by people in a local
village. “Their mistake was trust,” Fanjul says. “Always.”
Y ear by year, the numbers of guerrilla fighters in the
mountains dwindled. Many were killed and many of
those—like the men in the Black Cave and Cave of the
Fairies—were denounced to police. There are several reasons
that denouncements became the greatest risk to the guerrillas.
Over time, as their losses mounted, the fugitives were no longer
a viable fighting force. Nationalist social programs began to
improve the long-damaged local economy, so people were no
longer willing to suffer for ideology. They also simply wanted the
hostilities to be over. The authorities offered tempting rewards.
They also interrogated and threatened people. “The big mistake
[the fugitives] committed was always contact with family,” Fanjul
says. Guerillas were dependent on family for supplies, which
created the opportunity for both resentment and betrayal.
Denunciations were often used, pointedly, to settle personal
scores over illicit romances, debts, petty jealousies.
Once many of the most dedicated guerrilla fighters were
killed, organization and coordination gave way to the individu-
al drive to survive. The remaining fugitives became increasingly
isolated—and desperate. “In a couple of years, they become
bandits,” Fanjul says. “The region that had supported them on
the front lines was against them in the mountains.” They stole,
engaged in small-scale conflicts with shepherds, and generally
went from folk heroes to shambling villains.
On the steep slope of a stream bank between two landhold-
The Black Cave (top) and the Cave of the Fairies (above) were
ings, not far from his home, beneath overhanging vegetation,
both used as hideouts for Republican fighters after the war— Fanjul has located two small, coffin-like, debris-filled rooms
the former for attacking Nationalists in surrounding valleys
and the latter simply for avoiding capture later. carved into the riverbank. A neighbor tipped him off to this
unnamed spot—the “artificial cave” type, by Fanjul’s classifica-
the rock face above. This one, called Black Cave, is deep, dark, tion. According to the neighbor, a single fugitive lived there in
and cool, with high, vaulted ceilings. Two entrances face the constant discomfort and fear for years after the war. His wife hid
valley, one that is hard to see from below, and another that has food for him in her laundry when she walked down to the stream
a half-height wall built across its mouth, framed with wooden
posts. “This is interesting, because a shepherd doesn’t need a
wall,” says Fanjul. This is a “headquarters” type cave, defensible,
but too prominent for long-term occupation. From here, accord-
ing to local accounts, a group of six men—familiar with the
landscape and sightlines—controlled the valley and coordinated
with groups in other valleys to defend the area. There’s little
remaining evidence of their presence, but documents confirm
that five died fighting here, and one escaped—likely taking a
path much like the one the climbers are attempting.
At another headquarters cave, in what today are the more
economically depressed mining valleys southeast of the capital,
a similar story played out. It is called, fittingly, the Cave of
This small cave, carved out of a riverbank by an unknown man,
the Fairies—or xanas, a particular breed of mythical Asturian was used as a solo hideout, probably long after the guerrilla
mischief-makers, protectors of hidden places and dark secrets. war had waned. It is said that his wife secretly provided food
This cave is harder and more dangerous to reach than the Black when she went to the river to do laundry.
52 ARCHAEOLOGY • September/October 2017