The situation turned dramatically when on October 16, Brazil, led by Colorados, invaded Uruguay to rid themselves of the Blanco leaders. This was too much for Madame Lynch’s fragile sense of importance. She instinctively felt that the opportunity to become empress was ebbing. She berated López to strike at the Brazilians. But how? The obvious choice was to send the army south to support Uruguay and rally the region’s Blancos under López. But Madame Lynch had other ideas. Paraguay would first strike north — in the opposite direction of the fighting. And thus was launched the bloodiest war in South American history by a woman whose sole military expertise consisted of a few years as teenage bride to a French officer.
WHAT HAPPENED: OPERATION “LAST WOMAN STANDING”
It should be noted at this point that Paraguay was very small and poor, with the barest whiff of an arms industry. Brazil, on the other hand, had everything that Paraguay lacked: men, wealth, arms, and contacts with the outside world. While exact figures are difficult to achieve, Paraguay had about half a million people. Brazil’s population numbered over 10 million. López, however, was not constrained by the logic of simple math. Besides, it would be a quick war, he convinced himself, and the Brazilians would soon tire of pounding at him and sue for peace. Ah yes, the old formula for success — wear out the enemy by dying too frequently before them.
López was still left with the practical question of what to do after suddenly starting a war with a country on whose behalf he had only recently been attempting to negotiate. He first captured a Brazilian ship docked in the Paraguay River at Asunción, grabbing money and arms. But now he was stymied again. He could not send troops to Uruguay by river because he lacked the necessary ships. He could not march through Brazil to help Uruguay because it was too far away. So, in December 1864, according to Madame Lynch’s plan, troops commanded by López’s brother-in-law grabbed a hunk of poorly protected Brazilian land, hoping it would divert some Brazilian troops from Uruguay. López’s troops looted the countryside, grabbing whatever was not nailed down, turning captured women into slaves, and crafting a souvenir for their beloved leader: a necklace of severed ears. López had achieved one of his goals; his neighbors now knew he existed.
Pausing to digest his new role as conqueror of meaningless jungle, López pondered his next step. But he moved too slow: he was enjoying his life as a conqueror. In the meantime, events once again passed him by. In January 1865 a Brazilian army captured a Uruguayan stronghold and executed the Uruguayan officers. The Argentines and Uruguayans were both internally divided between indigenous Blancos and the cosmopolitan European Colorados. Brazil was angry at both Uruguay and Argentina. It was a scrum. López, with his unified country, could have made a move and emerged as the region’s power broker. Only an exceptional person could unite all these factions. López was such a person: He succeeded in uniting them all against him.
In a curious move, he asked Argentina for permission to send an army through its country to help Uruguay. When Argentina said no, López beat the drum for war, and his people fell for it. Then on February 20, 1865, the Brazilian forces conquered Uruguay and installed a sympathetic Colorado government. With the Blancos in Uruguay defeated, the entire rationale for López’s fight with Brazil had ended, and he no longer needed to send troops across Argentina. To the rational mind this would have ended the entire affair, and a hasty and heartfelt apology along with a large fruit basket from López might have diffused the whole sordid business. López rejected the rational anything. Instead, on March 18 he turned on Argentina, who had rebuffed his request to let him help the now-defeated Blancos of Uruguay. López was on his way to a lifetime membership in the rarefied club of lunatic leaders hell-bent on total destruction.
López launched his forces. On April 13 his navy captured two Argentine ships docked on the Paraná River outside of Corrientes, Argentina. The next day the Paraguayans captured the town unopposed. The Argentines were furious, as they had not yet received the Paraguayan declaration of war. It was a sucker punch. The reaction was immediate in Buenos Aires; crowds took to the streets demanding revenge, heaping scorn and bad names on the hated López. They beseeched President Mitre to take action, and he responded with shouts that he would take Asunción in three months.
And, perhaps more important, everyone in the region joined forces against López. The competing parties in Argentina put aside their differences and united. The same happened in Uruguay. Brazil, already gearing up to punish López for his unprovoked attack on them, gladly accepted help from its two neighbors. All three countries were united as never before with one goal, eliminate López from the region. Through sheer idiotic cunning, López had turned divided countries into united allies focused on his destruction. He was truly a diplomatic idiot savant.
At this point, all-out war took hold. Argentina and Brazil blocked arms from going upriver to Paraguay as the two countries joined hands. They cemented their relationship with the May 1 signing of the Treaty of the Triple Alliance, which, along with Uruguay, bound them to remove López from power, or from the earth. It was not a war against the people of Paraguay, or to take the country’s wealth or territory, but simply to do away with one man. The war would end when López was gone. Little did they realize the difficulty of this mission. That summer, seizing the initiative with its larger army, López invaded south toward Uruguay in a lightning strike to defeat the Brazilian forces. López put most of his crack troops into this thrust. But the grand winning strategy cooked up by Paraguay’s dynamic duo hit a speed bump as the combined Uruguayan and Argentine army wiped out the ineptly led Paraguayans, who divided their forces on opposite sides of a Brazilian-controlled river, among other problems. This battle crippled the striking force of López’s army, virtually destroying his 37,000 men. Anticipating victory, Madame Lynch had planned a ball requiring the ladies of society to wear all their jewels, so she could inventory their value. Word of the army’s defeat reached her just before the ball started. Rather than cancel the “victory” party, news of the crushing loss was kept secret. The party rolled on.
In response to the failure in June 1865 López hustled off to take personal command of the army. Madame Lynch stayed behind as de facto head of the government. Her first act was to confiscate the jewels of Asunción’s leading ladies.
Now the allies took the offensive. They marched north and retook the northern Argentine city of Corrientes. At this point, both the Argentines and Uruguayans felt satisfied and were willing to end the fight. They had pushed the invaders out and felt safe that López’s men would not return. But Brazil had other ideas. They smelled blood and had one goaclass="underline" López. By now virtually almost all made up of Brazilians, the allies pushed on.
While their offensive capabilities were severely limited, on the defensive the Paraguayans excelled. Their fighters were fanatical; their officers fought with extra zeal knowing that surrender meant execution of their families by López back home. Despite lack of equipment, shoes, and sporting nothing more than rags for uniforms, the loyal troops fought with tenacious bravery. The effect was exceptionally high casualty rates. The army was soon running out of men. So López started a new draft sweeping up boys over eleven years of age and those up to sixty into the fighting. Women worked the fields to support the war effort.