It was 8 in the morning of November 28, 1936 when Julián Cortés-Cavanillas heard a militiaman from the Rearguard Surveillance yell: “Pedro Muñoz Seca. To the rake!” The ABC journalist was imprisoned in the San Antón prison along with what is considered one of the most important playwrights in the history of Spain, just at the moment he was sent to Paracuellos del Jarama to be executed, in the midst of the Civil War, along with another eight thousand more people without any type of trial with guarantees on the part of the Republican side.
Some historians have lowered this figure to five thousand, although others say that more than twelve thousand were killed. Never
there has been an agreement as to the magnitude of the tragedy. It all started on the afternoon of November 6, 1936, 22 days before the author of ‘La vendetta de don Mendo’, the most popular play in the history of Spanish theater, was sent to the firing squad together with ‘Don Juan Tenorio’, by Zorrilla . The republican government made the decision to move to Valencia, evacuate its prisoners to other prisons outside of Madrid and set up the Defense Board under the presidency of General José Miaja.
The next day the first three sacks of Paracuellos took place: one at dawn, from the Porlier prison, and two more throughout that day, one from the Model Prison and another from San Antón. Muñoz Seca arrived at the latter prison shortly after being arrested by a group of militiamen from the Iberian Anarchist Federation (FAI), on July 28, 1936, in Barcelona. He had arrived in the Catalan capital shortly before the coup to premiere one of his works. Two Civil Guard officers transferred him to Valencia and, on August 7, to Madrid, where he first passed through the General Directorate of Security.
The San Anton prison It was the old school of the Piarists converted into one of the Czechs of the Popular Front. There he coincided with the actors Ricardo Calvo and Guillermo Marín; also with Cayetano and Rafael Luca de Tena and Cortés-Cavanillas, who recounted their memories of the last hours of the playwright, on ABC, years later. «On August 5 I had the fortune to be arrested and taken to the prison where the famous playwright from Puerto de Santa María was already being held, who represented for all the prisoners a stimulus to good hope, a continuous flourishing of the illusions of being free”, pointed out the editor of ABC.
letters and postcards
From jail, Muñoz Seca wrote his wife three letters and 41 postcards. In none of them did he complain about his situation, which was getting complicated little by little. From time to time he asked her for medicine for his stomach ulcer and cans of preserves with which to compensate for her lousy prison diet. Rafael Luca de Tena used to say that he was always in a good mood and had a kind word to lift the spirits of his companions. His brother Cayetano assured that he only found him crying once: the day he learned that his eight cellmates had fallen in one of the first sacks. This time, he spat in the face of his jailers, who knocked him down with a fist.
«One morning the red reaction was tremendous, tearing some 160 captives out of the San Antón prison, most of them friends and associates of whom he had written so many funny comedies and who, suddenly, found themselves at the center of a disproportionate tragedy, where death mowed down hundreds of lives due to a delirious and monstrous homicidal whim, ”recalled the journalist in this newspaper. He then added: “That same afternoon, while Muñoz Seca and I were sitting in his narrow cell, he said these words to me: ‘Dear Cortés-Cavanillas, I am sure that the poor people who have been taken out this morning, at this hour have already been shot. Let’s not delude ourselves. Today the sack has been from the military. Another day they will take us out to have the same end’».
Shortly after, the playwright was subjected to a “simulacrum of absurd interrogation”, as defined by the journalist. A popular court sentenced him to death, on November 26, “as a fascist, monarchist and enemy of the Republic” in a trial without guarantees held at full speed. He then held a meeting with the prison director and was taken to his fellow inmates. He called Cortés-Cavanillas and informed him in anguish: «They kill us, they kill us…».
“I am resigned and happy”
At 12 o’clock at night he entered his cell and began to write his last letter, addressed to his wife. “I was absorbed, contemplating him from outside the door,” said the journalist. Then he asked him to find the priest. “They locked themselves in and half an hour later his face lit up with a sweet smile. Then he gave me a hug. He was prepared to die, as an old Christian and as a Spanish knight, faithful and loyal to his god, his country and his king”, he continued.
Julián Cortés-Cavanillas recounted that, many years later, he wanted to read and publish that last letter that he had seen him write to his famous friend, but that the family preferred not to do so. In November 1970, however, the journalist received the sad letter by surprise at his home in Rome, where he worked as a correspondent for 21 years after leaving San Antón alive at the end of the Civil War. After obtaining the pertinent permission from the family, which he jealously kept from the very afternoon of his death, he published it in its entirety on ABC. It said like this:
«Dearest Asunción: I’m doing very well. When you receive this letter, I will be out of Madrid. I am resigned and happy. God above everything. I have a spare change. I’ll leave my half-season coat here so you can send someone to get it. With the money you sent me I bought bismuth
I have the rest for a few days. She left here a few debts. As he used to spend nine pesetas a day and you didn’t send me more than five pesetas from time to time… Without money I’m going to have a very hard time, but if God has arranged it that way it will be better. One more suffering means nothing. I am very calm knowing that everyone will be fine and that you will continue to be everyone’s good angel. You have always been mine and, if God has arranged for us not to see each other again, my last thought will always be for you. Don’t forget my mother. See that Pepe replaces me in her duties towards her and you tell her, when you see her, that I remember her from her, she has always been with me. I have nothing to entrust to you for the children. I know that all of them, imitating me, will always fulfill their duty and will be for you as I have been with my parents, a model. That is the only thing I can boast about.
I am sorry to give you the displeasure of this separation but, if we all must suffer for the salvation of Spain and this is the part that has corresponded to me, blessed be these sufferings. I am writing to you very quickly because the news took me a bit by surprise. Goodbye, my life. Lots of kisses to the children, love for everyone and, for you, who were always my happiness, all the love of your Pedro.
Postscript: as you will understand, I am very well prepared and clean of guilt».
“Long live Spain and long live the King!”
The 55-year-old writer signed in a hurry when the names that were going to be shot were already sounding. «Pedro Munoz Seca. To the rake!” At that moment he went to the vehicle that was going to transport him. Before getting into the trailer, they stripped him of his coat, his wallet, his watch, the souvenirs that he carried in his pockets, and they left him a handkerchief as his only luggage. “Where you’re going, you won’t need it,” a militiaman warned him. His mustache was also cut off and, to further humiliate him, his wrists were tied with a wire that was driven into his skin.
In spite of everything, he preserved his integrity and humor until the last moment. To those who were going to shoot him, he told them: «You have taken everything from me, family and freedom, but there is something you cannot take away from me: fear». As some witnesses revealed years later, he grabbed the priest’s hand, who was pardoning the squad of assassins, and said goodbye: “To heaven, Father.” He then threw away the cigarette and said, “As soon as possible.” When the discharge occurred, he shouted: “Long live Spain and long live the King!” His body was left lying there, ready to be thrown into one of the mass graves along with thousands of other victims.