In the last quarter of the eighteenth century ideas of revolution were widely in the air. The people were rising against the tyranny of the kings. First in this struggle for liberty came the English colonies in America. Then the people of France sprang to arms and overthrew the moss-grown tyranny of feudal times. The armies of Napoleon spread the demand for freedom through Europe. In Spain the people began to fight for their freedom, and soon the thirst for liberty crossed the ocean to America, where the people of the Spanish colonies had long been oppressed by the tyranny of their rulers.
The citizens of Mexico had been deeply infected by the example of the great free republic of the north, and the seed of liberty grew for years in their minds. Chief among its advocates was a farmer's son named Miguel Hidalgo, a true scion of the people and an ardent lover of liberty, who for years longed to make his native Mexico independent of the effete royalty of Spain. He did not conceal his views on this subject, though his deeper projects were confided only to a few trusty friends, chief among whom was Ignacio Allende, a man of wealth and of noble Spanish descent, and a captain[pg 227] of dragoons in the army. These men, with a few intimates, consulted often and matured their plans, confident that the desire for liberty was strong in the country and that the patriot people needed only a leader to break out into insurrection.
Hidalgo's eager desire for liberty, long smouldering, burst into flame in 1810, when the Spanish authorities attempted to arrest in Querétaro some revolutionists who had talked too freely. Warned of their danger, these men fled or concealed themselves. News of this came quickly to Hidalgo and taught him that with his reputation there was but one of two things to do, he must flee or strike. He decided to strike, and in this he was supported by Allende, whose liberty was also in danger.
The decisive step was taken on the 15th of September, 1810. That night Hidalgo was roused from slumber by one of his liberty-loving friends, and told that the hour had come. Calling his brother to his aid and summoning a few of those in the secret, he led the small party of revolutionists to the prison, broke it open, and set free certain men who had been seized for their liberal ideas.
This took place in the early hours of a Sunday. When day broke and the countrymen of the neighboring parish came to early mass the news of the night's event spread among them rapidly and caused great excitement. To a man they took the side of Hidalgo, and before the day grew old he found himself at the head of a small band of ardent revolutionists. They at once set out for San Miguel[pg 228] le Grande, the nearest town, into which marched before nightfall of the day a little party of eighty men, the nucleus of the Mexican revolution. For standard they bore a picture of the Holy Virgin of Guadalupe, taken from a village church. New adherents came to their ranks till they were three hundred strong. Such was the movement known in Mexico as the "Grito de Dolores," their war-cry, the Grito, being, "Up with True Religion, and down with False Government."
Never before had an insurrection among the submissive common people been known in Mexico. When news of it came to the authorities they were stupefied with amazement. That peasants and townspeople, the plain workers of the land, should have opinions of their own about government and the rights of man was to them a thing too monstrous to be endured, but for the time being they were so dumfounded as to be incapable of taking any vigorous action.
While the authorities digested the amazing news of the outbreak, the movement grew with surprising rapidity. Hidalgo's little band was joined by the regiment of his comrade Allende, and a crowd of field laborers, armed with slings, sticks, and spades, hastened in to swell their ranks. So popular did the movement prove that in a brief period the band of eighty men had grown to a great host, fifty thousand or more in numbers. Poorly armed and undisciplined as they were, their numbers gave them strength. Hidalgo put himself[pg 229] at their head as commander-in-chief, with Allende as his second in command, and active exertions were made to organize an army out of this undigested material.
The next thing we perceive in this promising movement for liberty is the spectacle of Hidalgo and his host of enthusiastic followers marching on the rich and flourishing city of Guanajuato, capital of a mining state, the second largest in Mexico. This city occupies a deep but narrow ravine, its houses crowded on the steep slopes, up which the streets climb like stairways.
The people of the city were terrified when they saw this great body of people marching upon them, with some of the organization of a regular army, though most of them bore only the arms of a mob. The authorities, who were advised of their approach, showed some energy. Resolving not to surrender and making hasty preparations for defence, they intrenched themselves in a strongly built grain warehouse, with the governor at their head.
Much better armed than the mass of their assailants, and backed up by strong stone walls, the authorities defended themselves vigorously, and for a time the affair looked anything but promising for Hidalgo's improvised army. Success came at last through the courage of a little boy, called Pipita, who, using as a shield a flat tile torn from the pavement, and holding a blazing torch in his hand, crept through a shower of bullets up to the gate[pg 230] of the stronghold and set fire to it. As the flames spread upward, the insurgents broke in upon the frightened defenders, killing some and making prisoners of the others.
The common people of the city, in sympathy with the revolutionists, and inspired with the mob spirit of pillage, now rushed in disorder through the streets, breaking into and robbing shops and houses, until checked in their career of plunder by Hidalgo, who restored order by threatening condign punishment to any plunderers. He proceeded to make the city a stronghold and centre for the collection of arms and money, his forces being increased by the defection from the Spaniards of three squadrons of regular troops, while the whole province declared for the cause of the revolution.
While this was going on, the governing powers in Mexico had recovered from their stupefaction and begun to take active measures to suppress the dangerous movement. Shortly before a new viceroy had arrived in Mexico, Don Francisco Venegas, a Spanish general who had distinguished himself in the war with Napoleon. Fancying that he had a peaceful life before him in America, he began his work of government by calling a council of prominent persons and asking them to help him raise money from the loyal people for the support of their brethren in Spain who were fighting against Napoleon. Three days later the Grito de Dolores broke out and he saw that his dream of peace was at an end, and that he would need all the funds[pg 231] he could raise to suppress revolution in his new government.
The viceroy, an experienced soldier, at once ordered the troops in garrison at Mexico to Querétaro, strengthening them by rural detachments, and summoning garrisons from the north, west, and east. He issued at the same time a decree under which all Indians were released from taxation, and promised pardon to all rebels who should at once lay down their arms; a reward of ten thousand dollars being offered for the capture or death of the three chief insurgents, Hidalgo, Allende, and Aldama.
The civil authorities were vigorously supported by the clergy in this action against the revolution. Hidalgo and his chief comrades were excommunicated by the bishops, and the local clergy denounced them bitterly from their pulpits. The Inquisition, which had taken action against Hidalgo in 1800 for his dangerous opinions, now cited him to appear before its tribunal and answer these charges. But bishops and inquisitors alike wasted their breath on the valiant insurgents, who maintained that it was not religion but tyranny that they were banded against.
The revolutionists took possession of Valladolid on the 17th of October, without resistance, the bishop and authorities fleeing at their approach. As the bishop himself was gone, Hidalgo forced the canons he had left behind to remove the sentence of excommunication. The town was made a second stronghold of the revolution and a centre[pg 232] for new recruiting, the army increasing so rapidly that in ten days' time its leader took the bold step of advancing upon Mexico, the capital city.
The approach of the insurgents, who had now grown greatly in numbers, filled the people of the capital with terror. They remembered the sack of Guanajuata, and hastened to conceal their valuables, while many of them fled for safety. As the insurgents drew near they were met by the army of the viceroy, and a fierce battle took place upon an elevation called the Monte de la Cruces, outside the city. A hot fire of artillery swept the ranks of the insurgents, but, filled with enthusiasm, and greatly outnumbering the royal troops, they swept resistlessly on, bearing down all before them, and sweeping the viceroy's soldiers from the field with heavy loss. Only his good horse saved Trujillo, the commanding general, from death or capture, and bore him in safety to the city.
Mexico, filled with panic and confusion at the news of the disastrous defeat of its defenders, could perhaps have been easily taken, and its capture might possibly have closed the struggle in favor of liberty. It certainly was a moment for that boldness on which success so often depends, but Hidalgo at this critical stage took counsel from prudence instead of daring, and, fearing the arrival of reinforcements to the beaten army, withdrew his forces towards Querétaro—a weak and fatal retrograde movement, as it proved.
The viceroy had another army advancing from[pg 233] the north, under the command of Calleja, a skilful general. Meeting Hidalgo at Aculco on his march towards Querétaro, he attacked him with such vigor that, after a hot combat, the insurgents were utterly worsted, losing all their artillery and many men. In fact, the whole loose-joined army fell to pieces at this severe repulse, and Hidalgo was followed to Valladolid with an insignificant remnant of his mighty host.
Calleja followed up his victory with a pursuit of Allende and a fierce attack on him at Guanajuato, forcing him to abandon the city and retreat to Zacatecas, which had proclaimed independence. Calleja, who had much of the traditional Spanish cruelty, now sullied his triumph by a barbarous retaliation upon the people of the city he had taken, who were most savagely punished for their recent plundering outbreak.
The remainder of this story of revolution is a brief and unfortunate one. Hidalgo gathered another army and led them to Guadalajara, where he organized a government, appointed ministers, and styled himself generalissimo. He despatched a commissioner to the United States, but this personage soon found himself a prisoner. Arms were collected and the army organized as rapidly as possible, but his forces were still in the rough when, disregarding the advice of Allende and others, he resolved to attack Calleja. He advanced on the 16th of January to the Puenta de Calderon, where he found himself in face of a well-equipped[pg 234] and disciplined army of ten thousand men, superior in everything but numbers to his undisciplined levies. They fought bravely enough in the battle of the next day, but they were no match for their opponents, and the contest ended in a complete rout, the insurgents scattering in all directions.
Hidalgo hastened towards Zacatecas, meeting on his way Allende, Jiminez, and other leaders who had escaped from the fatal field of Calderon. The cause of liberty seemed at an end. Calleja was vigorously putting down the revolution on all sides. As a last hope the chiefs hastened towards the United States borders with such men and money as they had left, proposing there to recruit and discipline another army. But before reaching the frontier they were overtaken by their pursuers, being captured in a desert region near the Rio Grande.
The captives were now taken under a strong escort to Chihuahua, where they were tried and condemned to death. Allende, Aldama, and Jiminez were shot on the 26th of June, and Hidalgo paid the penalty of his life on the 27th of June, 1811. Thus, in the death of its chiefs, ended the first struggle for independence in Mexico. The heads of the four chiefs were taken to Guanajuato and nailed to the four corners of the stronghold which they had taken by storm in that city. There they remained till the freedom of Mexico was won, when they were given solemn burial beneath the altar of the sovereigns in the cathedral of Mexico. The Alhondiga de Grenaditas, the building to which[pg 235] their heads were attached, is now used as a prison, but its walls still bear the spike which for ten years held Hidalgo's head. Before it there stands a bronze statue of this earliest of the Mexican patriot leaders.
Shall we add a few words descriptive of the later course of the struggle for independence? The death of Hidalgo left many patriots still alive, and one of these, Moreles the muleteer, kept up the war with varying fortunes until 1815, when he, too, was taken and shot.
The man to whom Moreles owed his downfall was Augustin de Yturbide, a royalist leader, who pursued the insurgents with relentless energy. Yet it was to this man that Mexico in the end owed its independence. After the death of Moreles a chief named Guerrero kept up the war for liberty, and against him Yturbide was sent in 1820. As it proved, the royalist had changed his views, and after some fighting with Guerrero he joined hands with him and came out openly as a patriot leader. He had under him a well-disciplined army, and advanced from success to success till the final viceroy found himself forced to acknowledge the independence of Mexico.
The events that followed—how Mexico was organized into an empire, with Yturbide as emperor under the title of Augustin I., and how a new revolution made it a republic and Yturbide was shot as a traitor—belong to that later history of the Spanish American republics in which revolution and counter-revolution continued almost annual events.
On the 3d of June, 1819, General Morillo, the commander of the Spanish forces in Venezuela, found himself threatened in his camp by a party of one hundred and fifty daring horsemen, who had swum the Orinoco and galloped like centaurs upon his line. Eight hundred of the Spanish cavalry, with two small field-pieces, sallied out to meet their assailants, who slowly retired before their superior numbers. In this way the royalists were drawn on to a place called Las Queseras del Medio, where a battalion of infantry had been placed in ambush near the river. Here, suddenly ceasing their retreat, and dividing up into groups of twenty, the patriot horsemen turned on the Spaniards and assailed them on all sides, driving them back under the fire of the infantry, by whom they were fearfully cut down. Then they recrossed the river with two killed and a few wounded, while the plain was strewn with the bodies of their foes.
This anecdote may serve to introduce to our readers Joseph Antonio Paez, the leader of the band of patriot horsemen, and one of the most daring and striking figures among the liberators of South America. Born of Indian parents of low extraction, and quite illiterate, Paez proved himself[pg 237] so daring as a soldier that he became in time general-in-chief of the armies of Venezuela and the neighboring republics, and was Bolivar's most trusted lieutenant during the war for independence.
Brought up amid the herds of half-wild cattle belonging to his father, who was a landholder in the Venezuelan plains, he became thoroughly skilled in the care of cattle and horses, and an adept at curing their disorders. He was accustomed to mount and subdue the wildest horses, and was noted for strength and agility and for power of enduring fatigue.
A llanero, or native of the elevated plains of Venezuela, he rose naturally to great influence among his fellow-herdsmen, and when the revolution began, in 1810, and he declared in favor of the cause of freedom, his reputation for courage was so great that they were very ready to enlist under him. He chose from among them one hundred and fifty picked horsemen, and this band, under the title of "Guides of the Apure," soon made itself the terror of the Spaniards.
The following story well shows his intrepid character. After the death of his mother young Paez inherited her property in Barinas, and divided it with his sisters who were living in that town. The Spanish forces, which had been driven out of it, occupied it again in 1811, and proclaimed a general amnesty for the inhabitants, inviting all property-holders to return and promising to reinstate them in their fortunes. Paez, hearing of[pg 238] this, rode boldly into Barinas and presented himself before the Spanish commandant, saying that he had come to avail himself of the amnesty and take possession of his property.
He was soon recognized by the inhabitants, who gathered in hundreds to welcome and shake hands with him, and the news quickly spread among the Spanish soldiers that this was the famous Captain Paez, who had done them so much mischief. Seizing their arms, they called loudly on their commander to arrest and shoot the insolent newcomer as a rebel and traitor. But this officer, who was well aware of the valor of Paez, and perceived his great influence over the people of Barinas, deemed it very imprudent to take a step that might lead to a general outbreak, and concluded to let his perilous visitor alone. He therefore appeased his soldiers, and Paez was left unmolested in the house of his sisters.
The governor, however, only bided his time. Spies were set to watch the daring llanero, and after some days they informed their leaders that Paez had gone out unarmed, and that there was a good opportunity to seize his weapons as a preliminary to his arrest. When Paez returned home after his outing, he was told that armed men had visited the house and taken away his sword and pistols.
Incensed by this act of ill-faith, he boldly sought the governor's house and angrily charged him with breaking his word. He had come to Barinas, he[pg 239] said, trusting in the offer of amnesty, and vigorously demanded that his arms should be restored—not for use against the Spaniards, but for his personal security. His tone was so firm and indignant, and his request so reasonable under the circumstances, that the governor repented of his questionable act, and gave orders that the arms should be returned.
On hearing this, the whole garrison of Barinas assailed the governor with reproaches, impetuously demanding that the guerilla chief should be arrested and confined in irons. The versatile governor again gave way, and that night the Paez mansion was entered and he taken from his bed, put in irons, and locked up in prison. It was no more than he might have expected, if he had known as much of the Spanish character then as he was afterwards to learn.
But Paez was not an easy captive to hold. In the prison he found about one hundred and fifty of his fellow rebels, among them his friend Garcia, an officer noted for strength and courage. On Garcia complaining to him of the weight of his irons and the miserable condition of the prisoners, Paez accused him of cowardice, and offered to exchange fetters with him. To keep his word he broke his own chains by main strength and handed them to his astonished friend.
Paez now spoke to the other prisoners and won their consent to a concerted break for liberty. Freed from his own fetters, he was able to give efficient service to the others, and before morning[pg 240] nearly the whole of them were free. When the jailor opened the door in the morning he was promptly knocked down by Paez and threatened with instant death if he made a sound. Breaking into the guard-room, they seized the arms of the guard, set free those whose irons were not yet broken, and marched from the prison, with Paez at their head, upon the Spanish garrison, two hundred in number. Many of these were killed and the rest put to rout, and Barinas was once more in patriot hands.
This anecdote will serve to show, better than pages of description, the kind of man that Paez was. When the act became known to the llaneros they proclaimed Paez their general, and were ready to follow him to the death. These cowboys of the Orinoco, if we may give them this title, were, like their leader, of Indian blood. Neither they nor their general knew anything about military art, and felt lost when taken from their native plains, a fact which was shown when they were called upon to follow Bolivar in his mountain expedition against New Granada. Neither persuasion nor force could induce them to leave the plains for the mountains. Bolivar and Paez entreated them in vain, and they declared that rather than go to the hill-country they would desert and return to their native plains, where alone they were willing to fight. This was their only act of insubordination under their favorite leader, who usually had complete control over them. He made himself one with his men, would[pg 241] divide his last cent with them, and was called by them uncle and father. His staff-officers were all llaneros and formed his regular society, they being alike destitute of education and ignorant of tactics, but bold and dashing and ready to follow their leader to the cannon's mouth.
The British Legion, about six hundred strong, was in the last year of the war attached to the llaneros corps, its members being highly esteemed by Paez, who called them "my friends, the English." The soldiers of the legion, however, were bitterly opposed to their commander, Colonel Bossuet, whom they held responsible for the miserable state of their rations and clothes and their want of pay. At the end of one day, which was so scorchingly hot that the soldiers were excused from their usual five o'clock parade, the legion rushed from their quarters at this hour and placed themselves in order of battle, crying that they would rather have a creole to lead them than their colonel.
Their officers attempted to pacify them, but in vain, and the lieutenant-colonel, against whom they had taken offence, was attacked and mortally wounded with bayonet thrusts. When Colonel Bossuet appeared and sought to speak to them they rushed upon him with their bayonets, and it needed the active efforts of the other officers to save him from their revengeful hands. Tidings of the mutiny were brought to General Paez in his quarters and threw him into a paroxysm of rage. Seizing his sword, he rushed upon the mutineers, killed[pg 242] three of them instantly, and would have continued this bloody work but that his sword broke on the body of a fourth. Flinging down the useless weapon, he seized some of the most rebellious, dragged them from the ranks by main strength, and ordered them to be taken to prison. The others, dismayed by his spirited conduct, hastily dispersed and sought their quarters. The next day three of the most seditious of the soldiers, and a young lieutenant who was accused of aiding in the mutiny,—though probably innocent of it,—were arrested and shot without trial.
Paroxysms of fury were not uncommon with Paez. After the battle of Ortiz, in which his daring charges alone saved the infantry from destruction, he was seized with a fit, and lay on the ground, foaming at the mouth. Colonel English went to his aid, but his men warned him to let their general alone, saying, "He is often so, and will soon be all right. None of us dare touch him when he is in one of these spells."
But Colonel English persisted, sprinkling his face with water and forcing some down his throat. The general soon recovered and thanked him for his aid, saying that he was a little overcome with fatigue, as he had killed thirty-nine of the enemy with his own hand. As he was running the fortieth through the body he felt his illness coming on. By way of reward he presented Colonel English with the lance which had done this bloody work and gave him three fine horses from his own stud.
[pg 243]These anecdotes of the dashing leader of the llaneros, who, like all Indians, viewed the Spaniards with an abiding hatred, are likely to be of more interest than the details of his services in the years of campaigning. In the field, it may be said, he was an invaluable aid to General Bolivar. In the campaigns against Morillo, the Spanish commander-in-chief, his daring activity and success were striking, and to him was largely due the winning the last great battle of the war, that of Carabobo.
In this battle, fought on the 26th of June, 1821, Bolivar had about sixteen hundred infantry, a thousand or more of them being British, and three thousand of llanero cavalry under Paez. The Spaniards, under La Torre, had fewer men, but occupied a very strong defensive position. This was a plain, interspersed with rocky and wooded hills, and giving abundant space for military movements, while if driven back they could retire to one strong point after another, holding the enemy at disadvantage throughout. In front there was only one defile, and their wings were well protected, the left resting upon a deep morass. A squadron of cavalry protected their right wing, and on a hill opposite the defile—through which ran the road to Valencia—was posted a small battery.
This position seemed to give the royalists a decisive superiority over their patriot antagonists, and for twenty days they waited an attack, in full confidence of success. Bolivar hesitated to risk an[pg 244] attack, fearing that the destiny of his country might rest upon the result. He proposed an armistice, but this was unanimously rejected by his council of war. Then it was suggested to seek to turn the position of the enemy, but this was also rejected, and it was finally decided to take every risk and assail the enemy in his stronghold, trusting to courage and the fortune of war for success.
While the subject was being discussed by Bolivar and his staff, one of the guides of the army, who was thoroughly familiar with the country they occupied, stood near and overheard the conversation. At its end he drew near Bolivar, and in a whisper told him that he knew a difficult foot-path by which the right wing of the Spaniards might be turned.
This news was highly welcome, and, after a consultation with his informant, Bolivar secretly detached three battalions of his best troops, including the British legion and a strong column of cavalry under General Paez, directing them to follow the guide and preserve as much silence and secrecy as possible.
The path proved to be narrow and very difficult. They were obliged to traverse it in single file, and it was paved with sharp stones that cut their shoes to pieces and deeply wounded their feet. Many of them tore their shirts and made bandages for their feet to enable them to go on. Fortunately for the success of the movement, it was masked by the forest, and the expedition was able to concentrate[pg 245] in a position on the flank of the enemy without discovery.
When at length the Spaniards found this unwelcome force on their flank they hastily despatched against it the royal battalion of Bengos, driving back the nearest troops and unmasking the British legion. This they fired upon and then charged with the bayonet. The British returned the fire and charged in their turn, and with such dash and vigor that the Spaniards soon gave way. In their retreat Paez marched upon them with a squadron called the Sacred Legion, and few of them got back to their ranks. In return a squadron of the Spaniards charged the British, but with less success, being dispersed by a hot musketry fire.
"While the Spanish right wing was being thus dealt with, a fierce attack had been made upon the front. The unexpected flank and rear attack was so disconcerting that La Torre lost all presence of mind, and on every side his men were driven back and thrown into confusion. In front and on flank they were hotly pressed. The opportunity of retreating to the succession of defensive points in the rear was quite lost sight of in the panic that invaded their ranks, and soon they were in precipitate retreat, their cavalry dispersed without making a charge, their infantry in the utmost disorder, their cannon and baggage-trains deserted and left to the enemy.
In this state of affairs Paez showed his customary dash and activity. He pursued the Spaniards at[pg 246] the head of the cavalry, cutting them down vigorously, and few of them would have escaped but for the fatigued and weak condition of his horses, which rendered them unable to break the files of the Spanish infantry. In one of their unsuccessful charges General Sedeno, Colonel Plaza, and a black man called, from his courage, El Primero (the first), finding that they could not break the infantry lines, rushed madly into the midst of the bayonets and were killed.
The news of this defeat spread consternation among the Spaniards. Thousands of the royalists in the cities hastened to leave the country, fearing the vengeance of the patriots, the Spanish commanders lost all spirit, and three months later the strong fortress of Carthagena surrendered to the Colombians. Maracaibo was held till 1823, when it surrendered, and in July, 1824, Porto Cabello capitulated and the long contest was at an end.
This final surrender was due in great measure to General Paez, who thus sustained his military service to the end. Though not gaining the renown of Bolivar, and doubtless incapable of heading an army and conducting a campaign, as a cavalry leader he was indispensable, and to him and his gallant llaneros was largely due the winning of liberty.
At the end of 1816 the cause of liberty in Chili was at its lowest ebb. After four years of struggle the patriots had met with a crushing defeat in 1814, and had been scattered to the four winds. Since then the viceroy of Spain had ruled the land with an iron hand, many of the leading citizens being banished to the desolate island of Juan Fernandez, the imaginary scene of Robinson Crusoe's career, while many others were severely punished and all the people were oppressed.
In this depressed state of Chilian affairs a hero came across the mountains to strike a new blow for liberty. Don José de San Martin had fought valiantly for the independence of Buenos Ayres at the battle of San Lorenzo. Now the Argentine patriots sent him to the aid of their fellow-patriots in Chili and Peru. Such was the state of the conflict in the latter part of 1816, when San Martin, collecting the scattered bands of Chilian troops and adding them to men of his own command, got together a formidable array five thousand strong. The "Liberating Army of the Andes" these were called.
An able organizer was San Martin, and he put his men through a thorough course of discipline. Those he most depended on were the cavalry, a[pg 248] force made up of the Gauchos, or cattlemen of the Pampas, whose life was passed in the saddle, and who were genuine centaurs of the plains.
San Martin had the Andes to cross with his army, and this was a task like that which Hannibal and Bonaparte had accomplished in the Alps. He set out himself at the head of his cavalry on the 17th of January, 1817, the infantry and artillery advancing by a different route. The men of the army carried their own food, consisting of dried meat and parched corn, and depots of food were established at intervals along the route, the difficulty of transporting provision-trains being thus avoided. The field-pieces were slung between mules or dragged on sledges made of tough hide, and were hoisted or lowered by derricks, when steep places were reached. Some two thousand cattle were driven along to add to their food supply.
Thus equipped, San Martin's army set out on its difficult passage of the snow-topped Andes. He had previously sent over guerilla bands whose active movements thoroughly deceived the royalist generals as to his intended place of crossing. Onward went the cavalry, spurred to extraordinary exertion by the fact that provisions began to run short. The passes to be traversed, thirteen thousand feet high and white with perpetual snow, formed a frightful route for the horsemen of the plains, yet they pushed on over the rugged mountains, with their yawning precipices, so rapidly as to cover three hundred miles in thirteen days. The[pg 249] infantry advanced with equal fortitude and energy, and early in February the combined forces descended the mountains and struck the royalist army at the foot with such energy that it was soon fleeing in a total rout. So utterly defeated and demoralized were the royalists that Santiago, the capital, was abandoned and was entered by San Martin at the head of his wild gauchos and host of refugees on the 15th of February. His funds at this time consisted of the two doubloons remaining in his pocket, while he had no military chest, no surgeons nor medicines for his wounded, and a very small supply of the indispensable requisites of an army. About all he had to depend on was the patriotism of his men and their enthusiasm over their brilliant crossing of the Andes and their easy victory over their foes.
For the time being Chili was free. The royalists had vanished and the patriots were in full possession. Thirty or more years before, a bold Irishman, bearing the name of O'Higgins, had come to Chili, where he quickly rose in position until he was given the title of Don Ambrosio, and attained successively the ranks of field-marshal of the royal army, baron, marquis, and finally viceroy of Peru. His son, Don Bernardo, was a man of his own type, able in peace and brilliant in war, and he was now made supreme dictator of Chili, an office which San Martin had refused. The banished patriots were brought home from their desert island, the royalists severely punished, and a new army was organized to dislodge[pg 250] the fragment of the Spanish army which still held out in the south.
On the 15th of February, 1818, the anniversary of the decisive victory of the "Liberating Army of the Andes," O'Higgins declared the absolute independence of Chili. A vote of the people was taken in a peculiar manner. Two blank books were opened for signatures in every city, the first for independence, the second for those who preferred the rule of Spain. For fifteen days these remained, and then it was found that the first books were filled with names, while the second had not a single name. This vote O'Higgins declared settled the question of Chilian freedom.
The Spaniards did not think so, for Abascal, the energetic viceroy of Peru, was taking vigorous steps to win Chili back for the crown. Three months before he had received a reinforcement of three thousand five hundred veterans from Spain, and these he sent to southern Chili to join the forces still in arms. United, they formed an army of about six thousand, under General Osorio, the able commander who had subdued Chili in 1814. It was evident that the newly declared independence of Chili was to be severely tried.
In fact, on the first meeting of the armies it seemed overthrown. On the 19th of March San Martin's army, while in camp near Talca, was unexpectedly and violently attacked by the royalist troops, the onslaught being so sudden and furious, and the storm of cannon and musket shot so rapid[pg 251] and heavy, that the patriot troops were stricken with panic, their divisions firing at each other as well as at the enemy. Within fifteen minutes the whole army was in full flight. The leaders bravely sought to stop the demoralized troops, but in vain, O'Higgins, though severely wounded, throwing himself before them without effect. Nothing could check them, and the defeat became in large measure a total rout.
When news of this disaster reached Santiago utter consternation prevailed. Patriots hastily gathered their valuables for flight; carriages of those seeking to leave the country thronged the streets; women wrung their hands in wild despair; the funds of the treasury were got ready to load on mules; the whole city was in a state of terrible anxiety.
Several days passed before it was known what had become of San Martin. Then news arrived that he was at San Fernando at the head of the right wing, three thousand strong. These had escaped the panic on account of two divisions of Osorio's army mistaking each other for the enemy and firing into their own ranks. In the confusion that ensued the right wing was led unbroken from the field. Also a dashing young cavalry officer named Rodriguez had done good work in checking the flight of the fugitives, and in a brief time had organized a regiment which he named the "Hussars of Death."
Six days after the defeat General O'Higgins made his appearance in Santiago. He was badly[pg 252] wounded, but was at once named dictator of the republic. The next day San Martin, with a few of his officers, entered the city. Wearied and dusty with travel as he was, his cheery cry of "La patria triunfa" gave new heart to the people. For several days fragments of the routed army came pouring in, and ten days after the battle Colonel Las Heras arrived with the three thousand of the right wing. The patriot cause seemed far less hopeless than had been the case a week before.
Yet it was evident that liberty could come only from strenuous exertion, and the people of wealth freely subscribed of their money, plate, and jewels for the cause. It was not long before a new army five thousand five hundred strong, freshly clothed and in fair fighting condition, was gathered in a camp near the city. The artillery lost in the flight could not be replaced, but a few field-pieces were secured. San Martin and O'Higgins, with other able officers, were in command, and hope once more began to dawn upon despair.
The enemy was known to be approaching, and the army was moved to a point about nine miles from the capital, occupying a location known as the farm of Espejo, where the coming enemy was awaited. On the afternoon of April 3, Osorio crossed the Maypo, the patriot cavalry harassing his flank and rear as he advanced. On the 5th his army took up a position on the brow of a hill opposite that occupied by the patriot forces.
Passing out from Santiago there is a succession[pg 253] of white hills, known as the Lorna Blanca, on one crest of which, commanding the roads to the fords of the Maypo and to Santiago, the patriot army was encamped. The royalists occupied the crest and slope of an opposite ridge. Below them ran the Maypo with its forests and hills.
As the sun rose on the morning of the 5th San Martin saw with satisfaction the royalist force beginning to occupy the high ground in his front. With hopeful tone, he said, "I take the sun to witness that the day is ours." As he spoke, the golden rays spread like a banner of light from crest to crest. At ten o'clock when the movement of the armies began, he said, with assurance, "A half-hour will decide the fate of Chili."
A few words will serve to describe the positions of the armies. Each was more than five thousand strong, the patriot army somewhat the smaller. It had been greatly reduced by its recent defeat, the memory of which also hung about it like a cloud, while the royalists were filled with enthusiasm from their late victory. The royalist lines were about a mile in length, four squadrons of dragoons flanking their right wing and a body of lancers their left, while a battery occupied a hill on the extreme left. Confronting them were the patriots, the left commanded by General Alverado, the centre by Balcarce, the right by Las Heras, while Quintana headed the reserves.
The battle opened with a brisk fire from the patriot artillery, and in about an hour the infantry[pg 254] forces joined in full action. As the royalists moved down the hill they were swept with the fire of the patriot battery, while shortly afterwards the royal battery on the left was captured by a dashing cavalry charge and the guns were turned against their own line.
The centre of the battle was a farm-house on the Espejo estate, which was charged furiously by both sides, being taken and retaken several times during the day. Yet as the day went on the advantage seemed to be on the side of Osorio, who held the field with the centre and one wing of his army. Defeat seemed the approaching fate of the patriots. It came nearer when the regiment of negroes which had for some time withstood the Burgos regiment—the flower of Osorio's force—gave way and retreated, leaving four hundred of its number stretched upon the field.
The critical moment of the battle was now at hand. The Burgos regiment attempted to follow up its success by forming itself into a square for a decisive charge. In doing so the Spanish lines were broken and thrown into temporary disorder. Colonel O'Brien, a gallant cavalry officer of Irish blood, took quick advantage of this. Joining his troops with Quintana's reserves, he broke in a fierce charge upon the Burgos regiment while in the act of reforming and drove it back in complete confusion.
This defeat of the choice corps of Osorio's army changed the whole aspect of affairs. The patriots,[pg 255] inspired with hope, boldly advanced and pressed their foes at all points. The Burgos troops sought refuge in the farm-house, and were followed by the left, which was similarly broken and dispersed. The centre kept up the action for a time, but with both wings in retreat it also was soon forced back, and the whole royalist army was demoralized.
The patriots did not fail to press their advantage to the utmost. On all sides the royalists were cut down or captured, until nearly half their force were killed and wounded and most of the remainder taken prisoners. A stand was made by those at the farm house, but they were soon driven out, and about five hundred of them killed and wounded in the court and vineyard adjoining. Of the total army less than three hundred escaped, General Osorio and some other officers among them. These fled to Concepcion, and embarked from there to Peru. Of the patriots more than a thousand had fallen in the hot engagement.
This brilliant and decisive victory, known as the battle of the Maypo, gave San Martin immense renown, and justly so, for it established the independence of Chili. Nor was that all, for it broke the power which Abascal had long sustained in Peru, and opened the way for the freeing of that land from the rule of Spain.
This feat also was the work of San Martin, who soon after invaded Peru, and, aided by a Chilian fleet, conquered that land from Spain, proclaiming its independence to the people of Cuzco on the 28th[pg 256] of July, 1821. Later on, indeed, its freedom was seriously threatened, and it was not until 1824 that General Bolivar finally won independence for Peru, in the victory of Ayacucho. Yet, famous as Bolivar became as the Liberator of South America, some generous portion of fame should rightly be accorded to San Martin, the Liberator of Chili.