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Uruguay

Chapter 19: HISTORY—continued
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About This Book

A comprehensive survey of Uruguay's geography, history, politics, and economy, opening with its physical situation and national character, then tracing colonial encounters, struggles for independence, and the career of a leading revolutionary figure; chapters examine Montevideo, pastoral and livestock industries, foreign relations, finance, railways, and social institutions such as education; the narrative blends military episodes and commercial development, highlights the influence of immigration, British connections, and infrastructure on growth, and discusses contemporary governance, national temperament, and prospects for peaceful progress.

CHAPTER VIII

HISTORY—continued

Foreign war succeeded by internal chaos—Warriors as statesmen—The dictatorship of Lavalleja—His methods—The first open breach between Lavalleja and Rivera—A temporary reconciliation—Establishment of the Constitution of Uruguay—Lavalleja and Rivera candidates for the President's chair—Differences in the temperaments of the two—Rivera is elected first President of Uruguay—Jealousies and intrigue—Attack upon Rivera—Narrow escape of the President—Lavalleja's party temporarily occupy Montevideo—Defeat of the insurgent general—His flight into Brazil—Intervention of the Argentine Dictator Rosas—His support of Lavalleja—Combined forces beaten by Rivera—Lavalleja's second attempt proves unsuccessful—General Oribe succeeds Rivera as President—Lavalleja's party again in the ascendant—Rivera heads a revolution—Civil war—Intervention of France—Resignation of Oribe—Rivera elected President—His alliance with the French and Corrientines—Declaration of war against Rosas—Defeat of the latter—On the withdrawal of the French Rosas resumes the aggressive—Severe defeat of Rivera and his allies of the littoral provinces—Oribe besieges Montevideo—The services of Garibaldi—The Uruguayan forces decimated—Further incidents of the war—The power of Rosas broken by Brazil, Uruguay, and Entre-Rios.

For the purpose of a self-contained romance with a popular ending, the adventures of the leaders of the thirty-three should end at the moment when the liberation of the Banda Oriental became a dawning certainty, but history has an unfortunate knack of continuing where fiction ceases. The fiercest enemy of a hero is longevity.

In this case the phase is especially lamentable, since although daring deeds of arms persisted, the feats were wrought, not in a joint cause against a common enemy, but amidst a turbulent confusion of sudden alliances and yet more rapid breaches between friends and neighbours that rendered impossible speculation whence the tide of battle would flow next.

The three names that stood out from the very midst of the chaos of events were those of Lavalleja, Rivera, and Oribe. Since the three had fought shoulder to shoulder for their country's redemption this prominence was only fitting and just. Yet the rôle of each of the three differed widely now from his previous methods. Cohesion had departed with the enemy's forces: not so the tale of the battlefields, that multiplied until they stained the soil of the country a deeper red than ever before.

The first few months of complete independence gave no inkling of what was to come. After one or two politicians had held interim offices, General Rondeau, who had rendered great services to Uruguay, was made Governor. A disagreement, however, arose between him and the constitutional assembly. As a result he resigned his post, and departed to Buenos Aires, shaking the dust of the Banda Oriental from his feet.

Lavalleja was now invested with the chief office of the land. Alas for the difference between the striver after liberty and the sitter in the goddess's chair! Viewed from the lofty pedestal, freedom became distant far below and lost to sight. In short, Lavalleja became a dictator of the most arbitrary type from the very beginning of his authority. He muzzled the Press, such as it was, disbanded various battalions suspected of loyalty to his private interests, and then turned upon Rivera, his old comrade-in-arms. Not satisfied with depriving the latter of his office of Commandant-General, Lavalleja raised an army, and, intent upon destruction, marched against the man whom he feared as his most dangerous rival.

The despotic Governor was not mistaken in his estimate of Rivera's power. Indeed, the result of a battle would have been extremely doubtful, had the two forces come into conflict. But the strenuous efforts of several peaceful commissions ended in a reconciliation between the leaders—a mere loose patching up of differences, it is true, but one that served for the time being. In the meanwhile the Constitution of independent Uruguay was established and sworn to, the event being greeted by the populace with wild enthusiasm.

The new State was, of course, endowed with a President, whose chair remained to be occupied. As was inevitable, the two candidates for the high post were Generals Lavalleja and Rivera. Both were, perhaps, almost equally secure in the admiration of the nation. Nevertheless, the distinctions between the temperaments of the two were marked. Rivera was a democrat, a friend of the populace, whom he captivated by his intimacy and easy manner. Lavalleja's tendencies were, by comparison, aristocratic; yet it is doubtful whether he lost much in influence from his loftier pose.

The first legislative act of the National Assembly came as a bitter blow to Lavalleja. In October of 1830 that body elected as President General Rivera. As a nation Uruguay had now blossomed out into a full-blown Constitution. But the youthful constitutional flower was destined to suffer an almost continuous winter of frosts. It was beyond the limits of Lavalleja's forbearance to sit quietly by and to see his rival comfortably installed in the coveted chair of state. It was not long ere the machinery of plots was set in motion. The first attempt proved all but successful. Rivera, accompanied only by a few men, chanced to be in the small town of Durazno, suspecting nothing, when a force of five hundred of his enemies descended suddenly upon the place. Their object was the capture of the President, who only escaped by leaping through a window and by swimming across the River Yi. A rising of the Charrúa Indians was the next material fruit of the campaign of intrigue; but the rebellion served no other end than the practical extirpation of the remnant of the aboriginal race that had survived until then.

Very shortly after this a revolutionary movement was instigated in Montevideo itself. Headed by Colonel Garzon, who held in his pocket a commander-in-chief's commission from Lavalleja, the rising was temporarily successful. The National Assembly, intimidated, had already confirmed the appointment of Lavalleja as President, when Perez, the Vice-President, resisted, and the rest, encouraged by his example, made a firm stand. As a result, Lavalleja himself made his appearance in Montevideo, and, with his followers, occupied the municipal buildings. After an exchange of shots, however, he and his band were forced to retire.

During the course of these events Rivera had been absent from the town. On receiving the news he hastened back from the country, and, placing himself at the head of an army, set out in strenuous pursuit of Lavalleja. The latter was overtaken at Tupambay. A battle ended in the shattering of his company, and, closely pursued by the President, Lavalleja fled across the northern border and sought shelter in Brazil.

In the meanwhile the famous Rosas had come to power in Argentina, and the policy of this dictator was destined to awaken very material echoes in Uruguay. Lending support to Lavalleja, he sent a force of three hundred men across the river. In order to create a diversion, these captured the town of Melo from the Government party. Their triumph was fleeting. Beaten shortly afterwards by Rivera in person, the invading force fled to Brazil.

But the end of the tide of invasion had not yet come. At the beginning of 1834 Lavalleja, aided by further contingents furnished by Rosas, descended once more from the north into his native country. On this occasion the events of his former attempt were repeated with equally disastrous results to himself. Beaten once again, he sought Brazil, the sheltering spot of all the atoms of Uruguayan turbulence.

A little after this the four years of Rivera's term of office expired. It was now the turn of another of the thirty-three, General Manuel Oribe, to enter the arena. Oribe was a warrior as well seasoned as the others. He had fought strenuously under Artigas's standard; but at the coming of the crisis, declaring that he could no longer serve under such a tyrant, he joined the Buenos Aires cause. Later, he had formed one of the most prominent members of the thirty-three. Becoming embroiled in the disputes of the period, he had found himself in opposition to Rivera, although he had to thank the President for promotion in rank.

In March of 1835 General Manuel Oribe was created the second constitutional President of the Republic. One of his first cares was to undermine the weighty influence of Rivera, in whose power he saw a menace to his own office. The new President began the campaign by summoning back to their country all those Lavallejistas who had been living in forced exile in Brazil and Argentina. Then, in order to deliver a death-blow to a rival's prestige, he deprived the late President of his rank of commandant-general.

Exasperated beyond endurance at this latter move, Rivera immediately made his appeal to the only authority that was understood at the period—that of arms. The insurrection attained almost immediately to formidable proportions. Indeed, there is no doubt that the malcontent cause would have been successful almost immediately had not Rosas intervened. As it was, the Dictator sent over from Argentina to the assistance of the Government five hundred troops, under the command of Lavalleja, who had thrown in his lot with Oribe against his arch-rival.

As a preliminary to the actual hostilities Oribe sent forth a thunderous proclamation, in which Rivera was branded as a traitor to his country. The first battle ended in favour of the Government, the forces of the rebellion leaving over two hundred dead upon the field. The chief historical importance of the contest, however, lies in the fact that on this occasion were used for the first time the red and the white colours that distinguished the respective forces of Rivera and Oribe and that have ever since remained the emblems of bitter strife.

The fortune of war varied for a while. After numerous indecisive skirmishes, Rivera won an action at Yucutuja, while a month later Oribe was successful in a battle on the banks of the River Yi. Then followed the decisive battle of Palmar, from which the Government forces emerged no longer as an army, but merely as a scattering of fugitive stragglers.

In the meanwhile foreign influence, in addition to the lot of war, had veered in favour of the revolution. The arbitrary methods of Rosas, extended to foreigners resident within the land, had caused him to become embroiled with France. Thus the northern power, in addition to the institution of a blockade of Buenos Aires port, was only too glad of the opportunity of frustrating the plans of the Argentine despot in Uruguay. Allying their forces with those of the revolutionists, they captured the island of Martin Garcia from the Government troops, and were preparing further active measures of aggression when Oribe realised the hopelessness of his plight. Adopting the sole course that was left him, he resigned his office of President, and sailed for Buenos Aires, accompanied by his late ministers, and a considerable following of private friends.

Rivera's road to the return of power was now clear. In November of 1838 he made a triumphal entry into Montevideo, and in due course the National Assembly elected him President for the second time. One of the first acts of the new chief of the State was the avenging of Rosas' late interference in favour of his rival. Allying himself with the French Government and the Province of Corrientes, he declared war—not against the worthy Argentine nation, as was carefully explained in the proclamation, but against the "tyrant of the immortal people of South America."

Rosas was never slow in responding to a challenge of the kind. Scarcely had the declaration of hostilities been made when he sent an army of six thousand men to invade Uruguay. Rivera, his forces strengthened by a thousand French volunteers, marched to meet the enemy, and at Cagancha he obtained a signal victory, the Argentine troops being defeated with heavy loss, and thus forced to abandon their campaign in Uruguay.

It seemed as though the event had put the seal upon Uruguay's success. But the fortunes of the period were as erratic as the period was turbulent. Very shortly after the Battle of Cagancha the differences between Rosas and the French were settled, with the result that an armistice was effected. With the raising of the blockade of Buenos Aires and the departure of the French troops from the country, it was the turn of Rosas to laugh, for his enemy now stood before him single-handed.

On this occasion the first aggressive steps were taken by the naval forces. In 1841 the Argentine fleet, under Admiral Brown, made a practical end to Uruguayan sea power. Some minor vessels that were subsequently collected were given in charge of the Italian Garibaldi, and the famous guerilla leader carried on with them a war of privateering, without, however, meeting with any material success.

In a desperate attempt to stem the formidable tide of Rosas's power, the three provinces of Corrientes, Entre Rios, and Santa Fé allied themselves with Uruguay. From the joint States Rivera raised an army of seven thousand men. But even this heroic effort did not suffice. Boldly marching through Entre Rios towards Buenos Aires, Rivera found himself brought to an abrupt halt by the unexpected appearance before him of his old enemy, Oribe, at the head of an imposing army of fourteen thousand men. The ensuing battle, fiercely fought, ended in an overwhelming victory for the superior forces, nearly a thousand of Rivera's men being massacred in cold blood on the conclusion of the fight.

The beaten President retired from Entre Rios with the remnants of his army, while Oribe likewise crossed the Uruguay River, and marched leisurely southwards from Salto towards Montevideo. In due time his armies arrived before the capital, which they forthwith proceeded to invest, thus commencing the great siege of the place that endured for nine years.

The circumstances of the beleaguering are too numerous and complicated to bear recapitulation here. One of the most notable features of the earlier days was a proclamation issued by Oribe to the effect that he would spare no foreigners whose sympathies lay with the "rebels," as he termed the Government of Rivera—or rather of Joaquín Suárez, who had taken the defeated President's post in Montevideo. The result of the proclamation was exactly the reverse of that anticipated by Oribe, since the foreigners responded by raising legions of their own and by flocking to the active defence of the town. The capital, however, was closely invested by sea as well as by land, Garibaldi's flotilla finding itself unable to make any headway against Admiral Brown's blockading fleet.

In the meanwhile Rivera had not been idle. With the amazing recuperative power that was characteristic of so many of the noted leaders of the period he had scraped together from the countryside a force of nearly four thousand men. With these he harassed the rear of the besieging force to such effect that the Buenos Aires Government, in order to leave the blockade undisturbed, raised a fresh army, and sent it, under the command of General Urquiza, to cope with the unexpected source of danger.

Urquiza came up with Rivera at India Muerta, and the result was fatal to the Uruguayan force. The end of a desperate conflict saw nearly a thousand of Rivera's men lying dead upon the Campo. In accordance with the drastically conclusive methods of the age, the number of prisoners was small by comparison. As to the surviving remnant, it was scattered to the four winds on the face of the downlands.

The terrible defeat of India Muerta deprived Rivera of his military prestige and Uruguay of her last hope of aggressive warfare. Cooped up in Montevideo, the Government appealed in despair for foreign intervention. England and France, viewing the policy of Rosas with dislike, complied with the request. But in the end their interference proved futile, although the combined European forces went the length of blockading the Argentine ports, and of defeating Rosas's troops on the banks of the Paraná.

Rivera in the meanwhile had fallen upon evil days. His last defeat had involved him in straits that went beyond even the loss of men and power. The fatal day won for him, unjustly enough as it proved, the active suspicion of his own people. Doubtful of his loyalty, the Montevideo Government applied to Brazil for his banishment to Rio de Janeiro. The petition was acceded to; but the Uruguayan leader seemed a veritable human phoenix in his ability to spring undismayed from the ashes of each successive disaster. With the ultimate object of taking an active part once again in his country's defence, he succeeded in getting himself appointed by Montevideo as Minister Plenipotentiary to Paraguay.

Rivera, however, had no intention of proceeding to take up his office. Once free of Brazil, he sailed boldly down the river to Montevideo, and raised the popular opinion of the capital so much in his favour that, after a short period of disturbance in the beleaguered city, he was once again endowed with trust and command. He took himself forthwith to the Campo, where he resumed his warlike operations with varied success.

Nevertheless, it was many years ere this particular period of Uruguay's strenuous vicissitudes came to an end. The year 1851 marked one of the numerous dawns in the fortunes of the land. Then an alliance was concluded between Uruguay and Brazil, while the famous General Urquiza, revolting against the Buenos Aires tyrant, brought the forces of Entre Rios to join the league that was now formed against Rosas. The result was the Battle of Monte Caseros, in which the combined forces made an end to the dictator's power, and caused him to flee to Europe.

The soil of Uruguay was once again free from hostile troops. During the fleeting period of peace that followed, it is necessary to take leave of two of the three Orientales who had ridden to such purpose on the breath of the whirlwind. A little more than two years after the Battle of Monte Caseras, Lavalleja died at Montevideo. In harness to the end, the liberator of his country ended his career just as he had once again been elected to take a share in its government. Three short months later Rivera followed his old comrade and enemy to the land where the cavalry lance is unknown and where no gunshot crashes echo.


CHAPTER IX

HISTORY—continued

Condition of Uruguay at the conclusion of the war against Rosas—Measures for the relief of poverty—Juan Francesco Giro elected President—The arising of antagonistic elements—Giro resigns in favour of Bernardo Berro—A revolution ends in the formation of a triumvirate—On the death of Lavalleja and Rivera, Flores becomes Dictator—Rebellion against his rule—Brazil sends an army to the assistance of General Flores—Further revolutionary movements—Manuel Basilio Bustamente succeeds Flores—The policy of General César Diaz—His exile and return at the head of an army—Defeat and death of Diaz—Two interim Presidents—Continuous civil war—General Flores enters the Republic in command of a strong force and is declared Dictator—The Paraguayan war—Causes of its outbreak—The policy and military strength of Paraguay—Strategic errors—Uruguay's share in the campaign—Flores returns to Montevideo from the seat of war—His assassination—General Lorenzo Batlle elected President—The continuance of political unrest—Various presidents and dictators—The Government of the present day—Don José Batlle y Ordoñez—Doctor Claudio Williman—The Uruguayan battle-fields in tabular form—Progress of the land.

With the Battle of Monte Caseros and the fall of Rosas the range of episode enters comparatively modern times. Although the war had ended successfully for the Uruguayan cause, its conclusion left the country in an utterly impoverished and desolate condition. Through the terrible stress of events in a land of such infinite natural resources the population was roofless, and in many districts actually at the point of starvation—an unheard of situation for such a country. As for the treasury, it was virtually empty, and the harassed Government found itself under the necessity of seeking for loans from without its frontiers on any terms that it could obtain.

On the 1st of March, 1852, Don Juan Francisco Giro was elected as the fourth constitutional President of Uruguay. The newly elected chief of the State made desperate efforts towards ameliorating the financial condition of the country, but political complications were destined to work against success from the very start. A fortnight after he had assumed power the Uruguayan army that had borne a brilliant share in the victory of Monte Caseros returned home from Buenos Aires. Its commander, General César Diaz, was acclaimed as a popular hero, and was promptly created Minister for War and Marine, although his sympathies were directly opposed to the Government.

It was not long ere the antagonistic elements that now surrounded him led to the resignation of Giro, who in October delegated his authority to Don Bernardo Berro. The latter, however, was able no more than his predecessor to restrain the tide of partizanship, and in July of 1853 an open revolution broke out, headed by General Diaz and Colonel Palleja. The outbreak occurred during a review in the centre of Montevideo, and, dramatically conceived, proved definitely successful within the course of a few minutes. In the first instance Berro was forced merely to appoint a fresh set of ministers, whose views were hostile to his own; but very shortly afterwards the President was obliged to vacate his post in haste, and to take refuge in the French legation.

At the end of September, 1853, a triumvirate was formed of Generals Lavalleja, Rivera, and Colonel Flores. The deaths of both the former occurred ere the new regime could be adopted in practice, and thus the survivor, Colonel Venancio Flores, was elected to complete the term of the presidency that Giro had vacated. He had scarcely taken charge of the reins of government, however, when his authority was rebelled against, this time by the party who had lately been in power. Leaving General César Diaz in charge of the Government, Flores himself headed a successful campaign against the revolutionists, at the end of which his military rank was raised to that of General.

The unrest did not long remain quelled. Indeed, so threatening did the situation become that Flores appealed to the Brazilians for aid. In response the northern republic sent an army of four thousand men, who occupied the principal cities of Uruguay. The result, as may be imagined, was a yet more marked seething of discontent. In 1855, despite the presence of the foreign troops, the Colorado, or red party, now definitely formed, revolted, and by force of arms obtained possession of the capital for a while.

The success of the revolutionists was short-lived. General Oribe and many other members of the Blanco, or white, group, came to the assistance of Flores. In the end a compromise was effected. The revolutionists retired; Flores resigned his post, and Don Manuel Basilio Bustamente was elected as temporary President. At this stage of Uruguayan history, however, space does not permit a detailed description of the various revolutions that followed the one upon the heels of the other, and that were separated by intervals of merely a few weeks or months.

An event of striking importance, however, occurred in 1858, during the presidentship of Don Gabriel A. Pereira. The latter had been opposed by General César Diaz, who had stood as an unsuccessful candidate for the office, and the inevitable jealousies soon became embittered once more to the point of active explosion. The policy of Diaz was now to incorporate the Banda Oriental with the Argentine Provinces, and thus to form a single country that should be known as the United States of La Plata.

On the discovery of his plan Diaz was exiled to Buenos Aires, and with him many of the more prominent members of the Colorado party. Diaz, however, soon made his way back across the river, and, collecting an army of eight hundred men, marched upon Montevideo, his forces swelling in numbers as he went. Unsuccessful in its attempt upon the capital, the revolutionist army retired, and, after an indecisive battle or two, met with total defeat at Cagancha. Diaz was taken prisoner in this action, and was shot in company with fifty of his followers.

The remainder of Pereira's term of office passed in comparative tranquillity. He was succeeded in 1860 by another representative of his own party, Don Bernardo Berro, who was elected in constitutional fashion. Three years later, however, General Flores entered the arena of politics once more. The pretext under which hostilities broke out was slight enough in itself. A refusal on the part of the Government to permit the celebration of the anniversary of the Battle of Quinteros had enraged the Colorados, and Flores, espousing their cause, led an army into the field. A lengthy series of battles ensued, in the majority of which Flores was successful. While the war was still raging, Berro, having completed his term, was succeeded as President by Don Atanasio Aguirre. Flores, however, having now obtained the active support of Brazil, was carrying all before him, and in February of 1865 he entered Montevideo in triumph, and was proclaimed provisional Governor and then Dictator of the Republic.

In recapitulating the history of Uruguay at this period the incessancy of the stream of warlike events is amazing. Scarcely had Flores seated himself upon what was virtually the throne of his dictatorship when an event of international importance, the Paraguayan war, occurred that was destined to convulse three republics and an empire.

The pretext on which war was declared was the armed intervention of Brazil in the affairs of the Banda Oriental, and the support lent to Flores by the Brazilian army—an interference that Francisco Solano Lopez, the tyrannical Dictator of Paraguay, took upon himself to resent hotly. Yet, even had not this particular bone of contention come into being, the war was undoubtedly inevitable. Paraguay's distrust of Brazil, and the latter's dread of the really formidable military forces that the inland republic had gathered together, had piled up a situation that only the faintest flame was required to set ablaze.

The military strength of Paraguay at this period was considerable. With an army of eighty thousand men of wild courage, backed by an adequate number of cannon, she might well have bidden defiance to any other single republic of South America. But her strength was exceeded by her confidence. Desirous of sweeping all before him, Lopez divided his forces, and dispatched an army to the north in order to invade Brazil, while another corps was told off to strike in a south-easterly direction. In order to effect this latter move it was necessary to obtain Argentina's consent to cross her province of Corrientes. This permission, which would have involved a breach of neutrality, was, not unnaturally, refused. Incensed at this check to his plans, Lopez declared war upon Argentina, and occupied the province of Argentina by force of arms. In the meanwhile Flores, in return for the support he had received from Brazil, threw in the lot of the Banda Oriental with that of the northern empire.

Thus Paraguay found herself face to face with the allied powers of Brazil, Argentina, and Uruguay, and a struggle ensued that cost the lives of tens of thousands ere the death of Lopez ended the long and desperate fight, at the conclusion of which Paraguay stood all but bereft of her adult manhood. Flores assumed command of the Uruguayan forces that took part in the campaign, and the Oriental division distinguished itself on numerous occasions in the course of the arduous conflict.

Fifteen months after the beginning of the war Flores found it necessary to return to Montevideo, where, in spite of the foreign campaign, symptoms of internal unrest had again become evident. Here in 1868 he met with the fate that had passed him by in the course of the Paraguayan war. Learning that a coup d'état had suddenly come about, and that a body of men had taken the Government House by assault, Flores without delay started out in his carriage to gain the scene of action. This move, as a matter of fact, had been foreseen by the conspirators, and a broken-down wagon blocked one of the streets through which he had to pass. As the General's carriage came to a halt in front of the obstruction, a group of men rushed out from the neighbouring doorways, and a minute later the body of Flores, mortally wounded by gunshots and knives, was left lying in the roadway.

This tragedy, however, was of little material assistance to the Blanco party. Indeed, the sole result, so far as they were concerned, was the execution of one or two of their leaders. The power remained with the party of the dead Flores, and General Lorenzo Batlle was elected President, ruling with no little determination despite the frequent revolutionary movements that continued to occur. On various occasions, it is true, the situation of the Government became critical enough, and in 1870 the capital itself was besieged by the insurrectionists; but in the end Batlle prevailed, and the insurrectionists were repulsed, at all events for the time being.

Beyond these warlike episodes much of importance occurred during the rule of this President, which lasted until 1872. Two distinct catastrophes marked the years 1868 and 1869. The former was darkened by a terrible visitation of cholera, while during the latter a financial crisis arose that caused the ruin of many thousands of Oriental families. Nevertheless, the year 1869 is to be marked in white among the milestones of Uruguay's progress; for it was then that the railway was inaugurated, and a line completed between Montevideo and Canelones that marked the first falling into line of the Republic with the more advanced countries.

The next President, Doctor José Ellauri, failed to complete his term of office. In January of 1875 a military revolution forced him to take hasty refuge in a Brazilian warship that was lying in the port of Montevideo, while Don Pedro Varela was acclaimed by the army as chief of state. Raised to power at the point of the bayonet, Varela found it necessary to sustain his post by the same force. Although his armies succeeded in suppressing the numerous popular risings, the dissatisfaction in the end became so general and a condition of monetary crisis so pronounced that Varela was forced to resign.

Colonel Latorre next assumed power as Dictator. His handling of this dangerously powerful office was liberal, and after three years of office he was elected in 1879 as constitutional President of the Republic. Almost immediately after this, however, the political situation became too complicated for his patience, and he vacated his post, declaring, it is said, that the Uruguayans were ungovernable as a race. Doctor Francisco Vidal, who succeeded him, was replaced in 1882 by General Santos. Although no marked internal disturbances occurred during the presidentship of this latter, the Blanco party were making strenuous efforts just outside the frontiers of the Republic to organise a revolutionary campaign on a serious scale. In 1886, when his office was completed, Santos caused Vidal to be elected once more, meaning to succeed him again, as he had already done on a previous occasion.

No sooner had Vidal occupied the presidential chair than the threatened revolution broke out. General Santos, at the head of the Government forces, effectually suppressed the rising, whereupon Vidal resigned in his favour. A governmental crisis ensued; the Ministry resigned in a body, and Santos was wounded in the course of an attempt upon his life. Efforts towards the keeping of the national peace were now made on both sides, and by means of strenuous endeavour a mixed Ministry was formed. Known by the title of "the Ministry of Conciliation," the new Government was acclaimed with enthusiastic rejoicings throughout Uruguay. Shortly after its formation Santos proceeded to Europe in order to obtain a complete recovery from his wound, and General Tajes was elected President of the Republic.

During Tajes's term of office and that of his successor, Doctor Julio Herrera y Obes, matters remained fairly quiet. In 1894 Don Juan Idiarte Borda became chief of state by election, and three years later a revolution on the part of the Blanco party broke out afresh. At the end of six months' fighting Borda was assassinated in the streets of Montevideo, and the tragic event was followed by the patching up of a temporary peace.

Don Juan Lindolfo Cuestas, who next assumed control of the Government, was successful in bringing about a treaty with the Blanco party, and in September of 1897 the revolutionists laid down their arms. We now arrive at a period that is practically that of the present day. In 1903 Don José Batlle y Ordoñez was elected President. For the first year of his rule he had to contend with further risings of the Blanco party, in the course of which numerous battles were fought. In the end the Government forces were signally successful, and in September of 1904 peace was signed and a general amnesty declared.

In 1907 Doctor Claudio Williman succeeded Señor Batlle. The first years of his tenure of office passed in tranquillity; but at the end of 1910 the Blancos became active once more, and various actions were contested ere the Government troops once more obtained the mastery of the situation in January of 1911.

Having thus brought this rough sketch of Uruguayan history to its conclusion at the present day, it must be admitted that the trend revealed throughout is distinctly warlike. Indeed, the battles that have reddened the soil of the Banda Oriental since its first colonisation are amazingly numerous. I have compiled a list of some 120, and were minor skirmishes included a volume would be needed to contain the list. It is, indeed, the militant portion of history that must necessarily stand out chiefly in a cursory survey such as this. The progress of industry, education, science, and art by the side of the roar of strife is necessarily a silent one. Its course has been none the less forceful for all that; and universities, schools, national institutions of every kind, port-works, and the general paraphernalia of commerce testify to the fact that Uruguay has not permitted her numerous internal struggles to divert the nation from its true forward march. In at least one sense the situation renders tribute to the virile qualities of the Uruguayan. For there are surely few nations that can exhibit a battle-roll such as this, and yet at the same time produce convincing evidence of prosperity and progress. With a proper manipulation of the great national energies, and their devotion to the pursuits of peace alone—tendencies that are becoming each year more marked—the prospects of the Banda Oriental would excel even the present fair promise of her future.


CHAPTER X

URUGUAYAN MANNERS AND CUSTOMS

The temperament of the Oriental—Some merits of the race—The Spanish Main as treated in fiction—Distinction between the villains in print and in actual life—Civility as a national trait—Courtesy of officials—The Uruguayan as a sturdy democrat—A land of equality—Some local mannerisms—Banquets and general hospitality—Some practical methods of enjoying life—Simplicity versus ostentation—Some consequences of prosperity—The cost of living—Questions of ways and means—European education and its results—Some evidences of national pride—The physique of the Oriental—Sports and games—Football—The science of bull-fighting—Eloquence and the oratorical art—Uruguayan ladies—Local charm of the sex—South American institutions—Methods by which they have been improved—The advantages of experiments—The Uruguayan army and navy—Some characteristics of the police—Honesty of the nation—Politics and temperament.

Life in Uruguay is perhaps best described by the German word gemüthlich, an untranslatable adjective that savours in its birthplace just a little of light beer, easy-chairs, cigar smoke, steaming coffee, and an atmosphere of camaraderie. After which it is necessary to come to an abrupt halt in this task of translation, since the danger of dragging in a foreign word becomes evident when it is necessary to introduce another in order to explain it. In any case, this good-fellowship of the Uruguayan is of a far lighter order than the Teutonic, and is only remotely concerned with the material matters of life. Like the majority of the races of Iberian descent, the Oriental is essentially sober in his tastes, and frequently of an ascetic temperament. Such traits are inborn and natural, and by no means the result of a campaign of schooling and self-repression. He has not, for instance, found it necessary to undergo an outward treatment of badges and blue ribbons nor to devote himself to a special era of self-protection from the like of which the chastened Anglo-Saxon is only just emerging.

For generations the Spanish Main has afforded a lucrative field to the writers of pure sensationalism—if the word be allowed. Their choice has undoubtedly been a wise one, and a judicious compound of fair creoles, satanic dons, swashbuckling pirates, and heroes of the tenderest age has proved an almost inexhaustible gold-mine of really lurid fiction. Yet it cannot be said that this fervid literature has led to a complete understanding of the South American character by the British youth. As to the popular and stirring villainies, I will not attempt to deny that in the past deeds have been enacted that were as terrible as those which have shuddered in print between gaudy paper covers. There were many beyond, infinitely worse, and altogether unthinkable. But the perpetrators of these were seldom enough of the stereotyped temperament as portrayed by the blood-and-thunder authors. Alas for the double-dyed deceit that lurked between the terrific drunken orgies! The real chief organisers of such colossal outrages as have obtained went about their business with a directness that was worthy of a better cause, and reddened the pages of history with a strictly methodical and painstaking industry. Moreover, they were as sober as an infant of eight at a Band of Hope festival.

But all this has very little to do with the present-day dwellers in Uruguay, and their habits and customs. The atmosphere of the country is essentially one of civility. If you would learn the temperament of a nation, mark the behaviour of its humbler public functionaries! In fact, one of the first steps that a student of national character should take is merely to ask a policeman the first question that enters the mind. In order to apply the severest test the query should be a crassly foolish one. In France may be expected vivacious expostulation, in Germany an explosion of imperative military sounds, in Holland a placid non-comprehension, in Portugal a pathetic eagerness to satisfy at all costs—I have tried all these, and more beyond than would stand inclusion here without the risk of wearying. The Uruguayan policeman, in his uniform of British pattern, is essentially courteous, while the manners of the tram conductors, railway guards, and those other genii of transit in whose hands the fate of the traveller lies are equally to be commended.

The absence of sycophancy that is characteristic of nearly all South American Republics is especially marked in Uruguay. A sturdy democracy is evident here even amongst those whose menial service is of the nature to evoke professional obsequiousness in other parts of the world. The waiter, for instance, will serve with brisk attention, but at the end of the repast he will as often as not pocket the customary tip as a matter of course that is unworthy of comment, to say nothing of thanksgiving. At the same time, it is certain that he would bear no grudge against a well-acquainted patron who had omitted the ceremony altogether. At a genuine Uruguayan hotel the returning guest who has been fortunate enough to win the esteem of the hall porter will find his hand cordially grasped in greeting by that official. The Banda Oriental is a country of discrimination and individuality where personality counts and where popularity is a very material asset. Such a land as this is undoubtedly a home of opportunity.

The hospitality of the higher classes is proverbial. Indeed, reputable conviviality of all kinds is at a premium. In Montevideo the occasions for the giving of banquets are numberless. Thus if a man has achieved something in particular it is necessary that a banquet should mark the event, if he has expressed his intention of achieving anything in particular, a banquet forms the appropriate prelude to the work, and if he has failed to do anything in particular, there is nothing like one of these selfsame banquets to console him for the disappointment.

It is, in fact, much to the Uruguayan's credit that he contrives to extract a vast deal of enjoyment from life in a comparatively homely and unostentatious manner. The race meetings here, for instance, are most pleasant functions, although the horses are not burdened with the responsibility of those tremendous stakes that prevail in some other parts. The theatres, too, although they obtain the services of excellent companies, are moderate in their charges—moderate considering the usual scale that prevails in South America, that is to say.

The advent of a prosperity, however, that now seems more definite than ever before has produced a similar effect upon household expenditure as in the neighbouring countries. The cost of living has risen by leaps and bounds during the past two or three years—a fact that salaried foreigners resident in the country have found out to their somewhat acute inconvenience. In the Campo, naturally enough, this phenomenon of ways and means has not occurred. When live stock and acres are numbered only by the thousand such annoying matters as house-rent and the butcher's bill fail to carry any significance. Nevertheless, in Montevideo the former has practically doubled itself within the last half-dozen years, and all similar items have followed suit as a matter of course. But the rise in the price of land signifies prosperity, and is at all events welcome enough to those directly interested in the soil.

South America, taken as a whole, is a continent whose inhabitants are not a little addicted to ostentation. The phase is natural enough in view of the conditions that obtain in so many of the Republics. In the case of the pastoral countries, even in quite modern times the broad lands had lain comparatively valueless until the introduction of the freezing process for meat and the opening up of the great wheat and maize areas sent up the price of the soil by leaps and bounds. Yet even prior to this era a certain amount of prosperity had prevailed, and young South Americans had become accustomed up to a certain point to wend their way for educational purposes to France and to England, and thus to assimilate European ideas with those that prevailed at the time in the republics of the south.

The sudden advent of overflowing wealth thus found them to a great extent prepared to introduce the most high-flown of modern ideas into the life of their own country. No doubt the very consciousness of these riches that, head for head, undoubtedly far surpass that of the dwellers in the old continent, caused the South Americans to fling aside the last vestige of pastoral simplicity and to make the roots of this great wealth of theirs bud out into residential palaces and entertainments of a rather fabulous order. Since they had shown clearly enough that their material gains had surpassed those of Europe, what more natural than that they should endeavour to prove with equal conclusiveness their ability to outshine the continent of their ancestors in the ornamentation and luxuries that follow automatically in the footsteps of fortune! Surely the trait is nothing beyond the proof of a healthy rivalry.

The Uruguayan is curiously free from all evidence of this ostentation. The life he leads is well supplied with comforts, but its tendency is simple. Thus, although a very fair number of well-turned-out carriages and motor-cars exist in Montevideo, they are seldom to be seen parading to and fro in imposing processions along an avenue or street specially adapted for the purpose, as is the case in many other cities. Rather less rigorous tenets, moreover, obtain in the case of the costume of the male city dwellers, and the whole atmosphere of the country, in fact, is one of plain comfort that has little concern with outward display. Uruguay, for the present, at all events, has retained its democracy. Whether it will continue to do so when the national wealth has become more consolidated is another matter.

The physique of the Uruguayan men is of a distinctly high order. Well-set-up and fresh-complexioned, they represent a favourable testimonial to the climate of the country. In all equestrian exercises they are, as may be imagined, past masters, and they have proved themselves apt pupils at sports and games of all kinds. As is general throughout almost the length and breadth of South America, football is much in vogue here, although, owing merely to the scarcity of the population, the ubiquitous game is less played in the country districts than is the case in Argentina.

The art of bull-fighting still obtains in Uruguay, notably at Colonia, on the banks of the river, where a large new edifice has been erected for the benefit of this, I think, regrettable sport. Espadas from Spain frequently come out to perform here; but with the exception of Colonia, that attracts the tourist class from abroad, the haunts of bull-fighting lead only a precarious existence in the Republic.

The Oriental is undoubtedly a man of deeds; but in his case the tendency to action is not effected at the expense of speech. He is, indeed, a born orator, and on the slightest provocation will burst forth into a stream of eloquence that can be quite indefinitely continued. In any case, it is pleasant enough to listen to the resounding periods in which the customary lofty sentiments are couched, but it is as well to bear in mind that the oratorical effort may mean very much—or very little.

Uruguay, more especially its capital, is well-found in the matter of femininity. Indeed, ever since it became a full-blown city Montevideo has been celebrated for its pretty women. This fortunate state of affairs has now become a well-recognised fact, in which the masculine portion of the community takes an even greater pride than does the sex more directly involved. Should a patriotic Montevidean be engaged in conversation with an interested foreigner, the chances are that it will not be long ere the confident question is asked: "And our señoritas, what is your opinion of them?"

In such a case there can be only one opinion—or expression of opinion. Conscience may be salved by the reflection that it is as difficult to find a woman without some stray claim to beauty as it is to light upon a dame of sixty without a grey hair. In both cases the feature may be hard to see. If so, it must be taken for granted. In the case of the Montevidean señorita no such feat of the imagination is necessary. To the far-famed graces of her sisters throughout South America she adds the freshness of complexion and the liveliness of temperament that are characteristic of the land.

Indeed, to conceive these lighter virtues, added to the natural Spanish stateliness, is to picture a very bewitching feminine consummation. Much has been written concerning the señoritas of Uruguay, and yet not a line too much. Their own kith and kin have sung their praises with all the tremendous hyperbole of which the Spanish tongue is capable. White hands, bright eyes, raven hair, and a corresponding remainder of features that resemble all pleasant things from a dove to the moon—the collection of local prose and verse on the subject is justifiably enormous.

The Montevidean lady has now, of course, become essentially modern. She rides in a motor-car, plays the piano instead of the guitar, and has exchanged the old order in general for the new. Yet the same vivacity, courage, and good looks remain—which is an excellent and beneficial thing for Montevideo and its inhabitants. Indeed, the beach of Poçitos or the sands of Ramirez shorn of their female adornment would be too terrible a disaster to contemplate even on the part of the most hardened Oriental. And at this point it is advisable to forsake for the present the more intimate affairs of the people, leaving the last word to the ladies, as, indeed, is only fitting—and frequently inevitable.

The majority of South American Republics—or rather of those in the lower half of the continent—are keenly alive to the benefits of many of the European methods and institutions. Although each of these countries possesses a strong individuality of its own, the generality of these younger nations have almost invariably shown themselves eager to graft to their system foreign methods of organisation that have stood the test of time and that have not been found wanting.

Indeed, in matters of practical progress the citizen of the more enlightened South American Republics is blessed with an unusually open mind. This condition has naturally borne fruit in experiments, and it is this very tendency to receptiveness that has frequently laid these States open to accusations of irresponsibility. Often enough the charge has proved entirely unjust, since it was based on nothing beyond a too fervent outbreak into an experimental region from which it was hoped to extract remedies and innovations that should tend to the betterment of the Republic.

The direction of the public services affords striking instances of the kind. The navy, army, and police of the more progressive of the republics are usually modelled on European patterns. The navy is usually conducted on the English system, the army follows German methods, and the police copies as closely as possible the time-honoured principles of what is undoubtedly the finest force in the world, the English constabulary. Uruguay follows this procedure only in part. The kit of the troops here is of the French, rather than the German, pattern; and although the naval uniforms throughout the civilised world are all more or less alike, that of the Uruguayan does not resemble the British as closely as do some others, notably that of the Chilian. The costume of the Oriental police, however, helmet and all, is almost exactly the counterpart of the British, although it boasts the additional adornment of a sword and of spats.

The work of the Uruguayan police, moreover, is to be commended for a lack of officiousness and fussy methods. They are little concerned with larceny, and with the similar forms of petty dishonesty, for the nation, as a whole, is endowed with a strict sense of the sacredness of property. The trait is to a large extent inherent in all the nations of the River Plate; but in this instance it may well be that it has become even more accentuated by the drastic methods of General Artigas at the beginning of the nineteenth century, whose abhorrence of theft and whose exemplary castigation of the crime may well have left an impression that has endured for almost a century.

I have already referred to the sobriety of the Uruguayan. Perhaps for the reason that he is of a more openly jovial temperament he is slightly more addicted to looking upon his native wine when it is red than is the Argentine or Paraguayan. But the cases where this occurs are isolated enough. Indeed, in the matter of sobriety the Uruguayan can easily allow points to almost every European nation. The majority of crimes that occur to the east of the River Plate are neither those brought about by dishonesty nor drink. They are far more frequently the result of differences of opinion and of old-standing feuds that are avenged by the knife and revolver, for the Uruguayan, though courteous to a degree, is quick to resent offence, more especially when the umbrage given is brought about in the course of a political discussion.


CHAPTER XI

ABORIGINAL TRIBES

The population of Uruguay prior to the Spanish conquest—Principal tribes—Paucity of information concerning the early aboriginal life—The Charrúas—Warlike characteristics of the race—Territory of the tribe—Stature and physique—Features—The occupations of war and hunting—Temperament mannerisms—A people on the nethermost rung of the social ladder—Absence of laws and penalties—Medicine-men—A crude remedy—The simplicity of the marriage ceremony—Morality at a low ebb—The prevalence of social equality—Method of settling private disputes—The Charrúas as warriors—Tactics employed in warfare—Some grim signals of victory—Treatment of the prisoners of war—Absence of a settled plan of campaign—Arms of the Charrúas—Primitive Indian weapons—Household implements—Burial rites—The mutilation of the living out of respect for the dead—Some savage ceremonies—Absence of religion—A lowly existence—Desolate dwellings—Change of customs effected by the introduction of horses—Indian appreciation of cattle—Improvement in the weapons of the tribe—Formidable cavalry—The end of the Charrúas—Other Uruguayan tribes—The Yaros—Bohanes—Chanas—Guenoas—Minuanes—Arachanes.

At the time of the Spanish Conquest the territory which now constitutes the Republic of Uruguay was peopled by about four thousand Indians. These, however, did not form a single nation, but were divided off into a number of tribes. The most important of these were the Charrúas, Yaros, Bohanes, Chanas, and Guenoas. Each of these groups possessed its own territory, and each was wont to exist in a state of continued hostility with its neighbours.

Nothing is known of the history of these folk previous to the arrival of the Spaniard, and even during the earlier periods of the conquest information is scanty enough, since contact between native and European was confined almost entirely to warlike occasions, and since, even when opportunity offered, the early colonists were neither sufficiently adapted nor especially educated for the purpose.

The Charrúas constituted the leading tribe of these aboriginal people. They owed this ascendancy to their warlike spirit, and to their comparatively large numbers. It was they who murdered Juan Diaz de Solis, the discoverer of the Rio de la Plata, together with many of his companions, and it was they, moreover, who offered the most strenuous resistance to the colonising attempts of the Spaniards.

The Charrúas, to the number of a couple of thousand, inhabited the coast of the River Plate, and carried on a semi-nomadic existence between Maldonado and the mouth of the River Uruguay, occupying a region that extended inland for about ninety miles, its inner frontiers running parallel with the coast-line. The stature of these natives attained to middle height; they were robust, well built, and usually free from that tendency to obesity which is the characteristic of the Guarani Indians. As a race they were distinguished by rather large heads, wide mouths, and flat noses. Their skin was unusually dark, and in colour approached the complexion of the negro more nearly than that of any other South American race. Peculiarly adapted to resist hunger and fatigue, they were agile and swift of foot as became those who existed principally on the deer and ostriches that they hunted. It is said that their health was such that many attained to a very advanced age.

The character of these Indiana was essentially warlike and turbulent, and they were remarkable for their passion for revenge and deceit. Of a taciturn and apathetic temperament, they refused to submit to discipline of any kind. They were, moreover, peculiarly averse to outward display of any emotion. A laugh, for instance, would be noiseless, signalled merely by a half-opening of the lips; conversation was carried on in a low and unmodulated tone of voice, and a true Charrúa would run a considerable distance to gain a comrade's side rather than be under the necessity of shouting openly to him. The sole occasions on which the exercise of patience would seem to have come naturally to the race were those of hunting and of scouting. A child of nature, with the faculties of hearing and sight marvellously developed, the Charrúa became reticent and morose when brought into contact with civilisation.