Chapter LXIII: Epilogue

Posterity has pronounced judgment upon the two liberators of South America, upon SAN MARTIN and upon BOLÍVAR.

They were both great men, the greatest after Washington that America has produced. Both fulfilled their mission. The one gave the first signal for a continental war, the other carried it to a glorious termination. Without San Martin at the South and Bolívar at the North it is impossible to conceive how the forces of the revolution could have worked together towards one end; neither is it possible to conceive how one could have completed his task without the other. Nevertheless, as politicians both went astray; neither reached the level of the public opinion of their day, and both failed to comprehend the instincts of the masses they led. They were military leaders only, and knew not how to direct the organic evolution of the peoples.

Time, which dissipates false and enhances true glory, has thrown much light upon matters which during their lifetime seemed obscure. Their outlines are now seen clearly against the horizon of history; they stand forth as symbols of the epoch which gave birth to a new republican world, the greatest political phenomenon of the nineteenth century.

The Argentine Republic and Chile, led by San Martin, were victorious in the South, and carried their arms from sea to sea, and from the temperate zone to the equator. There the entire forces of the revolution of South America joined hands; there the two liberators embraced, and separated for ever.

Columbia, led by Bolívar, gave victory to the revolution in the North; secured the independence of Peru and Bolivia, and guaranteed that of the other Republics of the Southern Continent. San Martin yielded the completion of the task to Bolívar, and by his abdication gave a high example of civic virtue. Bolívar crowned the work; the triumph belongs to both. Their fate was equal, both died in exile.

The fate of the emancipators of South America is tragical. The first revolutionists of La Paz and of Quito died on the scaffold. Miranda, the apostle of liberty, betrayed by his own people to his enemies, died alone and naked in a dungeon. Moreno, the priest of the Argentine revolution, and the teacher of the democratic idea, died at sea and found a grave in the ocean. Hidalgo, the first popular leader of Mexico, was executed as a criminal. Belgrano, the first champion of Argentine independence, who saved the revolution at Tucuman and Salta, died obscurely, while civil war raged round him. O’Higgins, the hero of Chile, died in exile, as Carrera his rival had done before him. Iturbide, the real liberator of Mexico, fell a victim to his own ambition. Montufar, the leader of the revolution in Quito, and his comrade Villavicencio, promoter of that of Cartagena, were strangled. The first Presidents of New Granada, Lozano and Torres, fell sacrifices to the restoration of colonial terrorism. Piar, who found the true base for the insurrection in Columbia, was shot by Bolívar, to whom he had shown the way to victory. Rivadavia, the civil genius of South America, who gave form to her representative institutions, died in exile. Sucre, the conqueror of Ayacucho, was murdered by his own men on a lonely road. Bolívar and San Martin died in banishment.

San Martin when he saw that his life’s work was accomplished, left Mendoza for Buenos Ayres, where he was received with indifference and contempt. Neither country wife, nor home, was left to him, there was not even a place in the Argentine Army for the man who had led the armies of three Republics to victory. At the close of the year 1823 he took his orphan daughter in his arms and retired into exile. In Europe he found himself penniless. Five years later he returned to Buenos Ayres, seeking to end his days in his native country; the war with Brazil had just concluded.

On the 12th February, 1829, the anniversary of his triumphs at San Lorenzo and at Chacabuco, the ship which carried him anchored in the roadstead, and he was greeted with this contemptuous denunciation in the city press:--

“General San Martin has returned to his native country after five years’ absence, but after knowing that peace was concluded with the Emperor of Brazil.”

His answer had been given two thousand years before, by the mouth of Scipio, when he was insulted by his fellow countrymen on the anniversary of one of his great battles:--

“On such a day as this I saved Rome.”

San Martin did not repeat this answer, he returned in silence into exile. His reply was given from the tomb many years later:--

“I desire that my heart may rest in Buenos Ayres.”

Bolívar, after his last resignation was accepted, retired to the neighbourhood of Cartagena, and there heard of the death of Sucre, who had written to him two years previously, that unless they withdrew in time they would lose their heads. He was dying, but still indulged ambitious designs. He had prophesied anarchy and it came. He looked on complacently, and even encouraged it, but was greatly mortified by a notification from his friend Mosquera, that Venezuela demanded his banishment as a condition of peace.

“No, no, I will not go dishonoured,” he exclaimed.

His partisans said that he alone could restore quietude, and they seemed right. Part of Venezuela and New Granada rose in arms to demand the re-establishment of his dictatorship. Quito and Guayaquil separated from Columbia, and in May, 1830, formed themselves into an independent State, under the name of THE REPUBLIC OF ECUADOR.

At Bogotá the Government of Mosquera was upset, and civil war broke out. The friends of Bolívar, triumphant in the capital under Urdaneta, called upon him to put himself at their head, and to re-establish the Union of Columbia. He was weak enough to accept the invitation. Death saved him from the disgrace of becoming a leader in an internecine war between States to which he had given independence.

His sickness increasing, he retired to Santa Marta to breathe the fresh sea air. At the Quinta of San Pedro, seven miles from that city, he breathed his last. Seated in an arm-chair to receive extreme unction, his last words addressed to the Columbian people, which had been written down to his dictation, were read over to him:--

“My wishes are for the happiness of my country. If my death weaken the divisions, and help to consolidate union, I shall go to the tomb content.”

He added in a hoarse voice:--

“Yes, to the tomb, to which I am sent by my fellow-citizens, but I forgive them. Oh! that I could take with me the consolation of knowing that they will keep united.”

These were the last sensible words that he was heard to speak. Delirium supervened, and he died on the 17th December, 1831, at the age of forty-seven years four months and twenty-three days.

In October, 1832, San Martin, then resident in France, was attacked by cholera. He was living in great poverty on the proceeds of the sale of the house given him by the Argentine Congress after the victory of Maipó. He thought he was to die in a hospital. The Spanish banker Aguada, who had been a comrade of his in the Peninsular War, came to his assistance, saved his life, and relieved his distress. He gave him the small country-house of Grand Bourg, on the banks of the Seine, close to that old elm which, according to tradition, was planted by the soldiers of Henry IV., when besieging Paris. There, surrounded by trees and flowers which he tended himself, he passed many quiet years, complaining sometimes of the ingratitude of men, deploring the sad state of the peoples for whom he had done so much, but never despairing of their destiny. Once only did his old enthusiasm blaze out. He thought the independence and honour of his country were threatened by France and England in the questions of 1845--1849, and came from his seclusion to show that America could not be conquered by Europe. Subsequently, in his will, he left his sword to the Argentine Dictator:--

“As a proof of the satisfaction with which I, as an Argentine, have seen the firmness of General Rozas in defending the honour of the Republic against the unjust pretensions of the foreigners who sought her humiliation.”

As the end approached, his eyes were obscured by cataract. Reading, which was with him a passion, was forbidden him. He went to Boulogne to breathe the sea air, as Bolívar had done. On the 13th August, 1850, as he was standing on the beach, gazing with dim eyes over the Channel, he felt the first mortal symptom. He pressed his hand to his heart, and with a feeble smile said to his faithful daughter:--“C’est l’orage qui mene au port.” On the 17th of the same month he died in her arms, at the age of seventy-two years and six months.

Chile and the Argentine Republic have raised statues to him. Peru owes him one, which she has decreed. The Argentine people, now united and consolidated as he desired, brought back his mortal remains to his own country, and in May, 1880, laid them to rest in the Cathedral of Buenos Ayres, as those of the greatest man among them.

In San Martin and Bolívar were combined, in unequal proportions, the two elements which make history: the active element which produces immediate effect in deeds, and the passive element from which springs the future. The effect of their combination marks the present and influences posterity. The political work of Bolívar died with him; that of San Martin lives after him; South America has organized itself as foreshadowed by his genius, within the geographical lines he drew out with his sword.

The Argentine Republic instructed her General:--

“That no idea of oppression or conquest carried her arms beyond her territory; that the independence of the United Provinces was the purpose of the campaign.”

Thus, when Chile was free, alliance was made with her on the basis of their mutual independence. Nations were emancipated and left to work out their destinies themselves. This was the work of San Martin as a liberator, and has produced an international equilibrium in South America, to which Europe has not yet attained.

A very different plan was followed by Bolívar. Under his leadership frontiers disappeared; Venezuela, New Granada, and Quito, became one giant nation, powerful for war, but intrinsically weak from lack of geographical and social cohesion. Bolívar freed Peru from Spain, only to make her a parasite of Columbia, and of Upper Peru he made a feudal territory dependent upon himself. He tried to establish a monocratic empire in opposition to natural laws and to the tendencies of the Revolution; to bring back the colonial system in defiance of the democratic instincts of the people.

In Bolivia the two systems met face to face. The Argentine Republic, true to her principles, yielded her historic rights over that territory and recognised the independence of Upper Peru, but she barred the further progress of Bolívar, who sought to impose his own system on Paraguay. The ephemeral structure of the monocracy fell to pieces by its own weight, and the whole of the Continent became definitely organized on the geographical system represented by San Martin.

The glory of Bolívar is imperishable, and his action as a liberator was more decisive in his day, but none of his designs or of his ideals survived him. The work of San Martin remains an enduring monument to his memory.

The chief characteristic of San Martin was his disinterestedness. He struggles, destroys, and rebuilds as he can; he commands, obeys, abdicates, and condemns himself to eternal silence and eternal exile. Seldom has the influence of one man had more decisive effect on the destinies of a people. The greatness of those who attain to immortality is not measured by their talents, but by the effect exercised by their memory upon the conscience of humanity, making it vibrate from generation to generation with a passion or with an idea. Of such was San Martin, whose influence still lives, not by reason of any genius he possessed, but by reason of his character.

San Martin conceived great plans, political and military, which appeared at first to be folly, but when believed in became facts. He organized disciplined armies, and infused into them his own spirit. He founded republics, not for his own aggrandisement, but that men might live in freedom. He made himself powerful, only that by this power he might accomplish his destined task; he abdicated and went into exile, not from egoism or from cowardice, but in homage to his own principles and for the sake of his cause. He is the first captain in the New World, the only one who has given lessons in modern strategy on a new theatre of war. With all his intellectual deficiencies and his political errors the Revolution of South America has produced no other who was his equal.

Faithful to the maxims of his life, HE WAS THAT WHICH HE OUGHT TO BE, and rather than be that which he ought not to be he preferred TO BE NOTHING. For this his name shall be immortal.

TRANSLATOR’S APPENDIX.

I.

“The sole purpose for which the Americans existed was held to be that of collecting together the precious metals for the Spaniards; and if the wild horses and cattle which overrun the country could have been trained to perform this office the inhabitants might have been altogether dispensed with, and the colonial system would then have been perfect. Unfortunately, however, for that system, the South Americans ... finding that the Spaniards neither could nor would furnish them with an adequate supply of European products, invited the assistance of other nations. To this call the other nations were not slow to listen, and in process of time there was established one of the most extraordinary systems of organized smuggling which the world ever saw. This was known under the name of the contraband or forced trade, and was carried on in armed vessels, well manned, and prepared to fight their way to the coast, and to resist the coast blockades of Spain. This singular system of warlike commerce was conducted by the Dutch, Portuguese, French, English, and latterly by the North Americans. In this way goods to an immense value were distributed over South America, and ... along with the goods no small portion of knowledge found entrance, in spite of the increased exertions of the Inquisition.... Many foreigners, too, by means of bribes and other arts, succeeded in getting into the country, so that the progress of intelligence was encouraged, to the utter despair of the Spaniards, who knew no other method of governing the colonies but that of brute force.”--From the _Journal of Captain Basil Hall, R.N., F.R.S., on the Coasts of Chile, Peru, and Mexico, in the years 1820, 1821, 1822_.

II.

Captain Basil Hall, who paid a visit to San Martin, in the month of June, 1821, on board the schooner _Montezuma_, then at anchor in the Callao Roads, thus describes his personal appearance:--

“General San Martin is a tall, erect, well-proportioned, handsome man, with a large aquiline nose, thick black hair and immense bushy whiskers, extending from ear to ear under the chin; his complexion is deep olive, and his eye, which is large, prominent, and piercing, jet black; his whole appearance being highly military. He is thoroughly well bred, and unaffectedly simple in his manners; exceedingly cordial and engaging, and possessed evidently of great kindliness of disposition; in short, I have never seen any person the enchantment of whose address was more irresistible.”

III.

“It has been stated that the filling of the tubes was, from motives of parsimony, entrusted to Spanish prisoners, who, as was found on examination, had embraced every opportunity of inserting handfuls of sand, sawdust, and even manure at intervals in the tubes, thus impeding the progress of combustion; whilst in the majority of instances they had so thoroughly mixed the neutralizing matter with the ingredients supplied, that the charge would not ignite at all, the result being complete failure in the object of the expedition.”--_Autobiography of a Seaman_, by Lord Dundonald.

IV.

“ ... This bridge is curious from its simplicity, and from the close resemblance it bears to the iron bridges of suspension recently introduced into England, to which, in principle, it is precisely similar. It consists of a narrow roadway of planks, laid crosswise, with their ends resting on straight ropes, suspended by means of short lines to a set of thicker ropes drawn across the stream from bank to bank. These strong sustaining cords are six in number, three at each side of the bridge, and hang in flat curves, one above another, the short vertical lines supporting the roadway being so disposed as to distribute the weight equally. The main or suspending ropes are firmly secured to the angles of the rock on one side at the height of thirty feet from the stream; but the opposite bank being low, it has been found necessary to correct the consequent inclination in some degree, by carrying the ropes over a high wooden framework, and attaching them afterwards to trees and to posts driven into the bank. The clear span from the frame or pier on one side to the face of the rock on the other is one hundred and twenty-three feet. The materials being very elastic the bridge waved up and down with our weight, and vibrated from side to side in so alarming a manner that, at the recommendation of the guide, we dismounted and drove our horses, one by one, before us; but it must be owned, neither man nor horse appeared much at ease during the passage.”--_Journal of Captain Basil Hall._

V.

“ ... How far his professions were sincere, or, if sincere, his plans were wise, it is now very difficult to say. They certainly appeared to many people very judicious at the time, and they were uniformly followed by the success which he anticipated.

“ ... On the 25th June I had an interview with General San Martin, on board a little schooner anchored in Callao Roads.... There was little at first sight in his appearance to engage attention; but when he rose up and began to speak, his great superiority over every other person I had seen in South America was sufficiently apparent. He received us in a very homely style, on the deck of his vessel, dressed in a surtout coat and a large fur cap, seated at a table made of a few loose planks laid along the top of two empty casks.

“ ... Several persons came on board privately from Lima, to discuss the state of affairs, upon which occasion his views and feelings were distinctly stated: and I saw nothing in his conduct afterwards to cast a doubt upon the sincerity with which he then spoke. The contest in Peru, he said, was not of an ordinary description; not a war of conquest and glory, but entirely of opinion; it was a war of new and liberal principles against prejudice, bigotry, and tyranny. People ask why I don’t march to Lima at once; so I might, and instantly would, were it suitable to my views, which it is not. I do not want military renown; I have no ambition to be the conqueror of Peru; I want solely to liberate the country from oppression. Of what use would Lima be to me, if the inhabitants were hostile in political sentiment? How could the cause of independence be advanced by my holding Lima, or even the whole country, in military possession? Far different are my views. I wish to have all men thinking with me, and do not choose to advance a step beyond the march of public opinion.

“ ... I have been gaining, day by day, fresh allies in the hearts of the people, the only certain allies in such a war.

“ ... Public opinion is an engine newly introduced into this country; the Spaniards, who are utterly incapable of directing it, have prohibited its use; but they shall now experience its strength and importance.

“ ... When all was quiet in the capital I went to Callao, and hearing that San Martin was in the Roads, waited on him on board his yacht. I found him possessed of correct information as to all that was passing; but he seemed in no hurry to enter the city, and appeared, above all things, anxious to avoid any appearance of acting the part of a conqueror. ‘For the last ten years,’ said he, ‘I have been unremittingly employed against the Spaniards, or rather, in favour of this country, for I am not against any one who is not hostile to the cause of independence. All I wish is that this country should be managed by itself, and by itself alone. As to the manner in which it is to be governed that belongs not at all to me. I propose simply to give the people the means of declaring themselves independent, and of establishing a suitable form of government; after which I shall consider I have done enough, and leave them.’”--_Journal of Captain Basil Hall._

VI.

In January, 1891, a number of Venezuelans presented the city of New York with a painting commemorative of this deed of arms, in token of their gratitude for honours paid to the memory of their hero, who died an exile in that city.

This painting is thus described in the _Tribune_:--

“The canvas is 9½ by 15½ feet in size, and was brought to this country mounted and handsomely framed. It represents the famous cavalry manœuvre of General Paez at the battle of Queseras del Medio. In this battle General Paez took 119 men, about half his force, and started to meet the Spanish cavalry. As the latter advanced Paez turned his men in full retreat toward a thicket where he had concealed the rest of his force. At the ambuscade Paez suddenly turned and charged the Spaniards, who fled in terror. The artist has pictured the scene at this moment. The general is mounted on a superb horse, which he has pulled sharply back on its haunches as he gives the order, ‘Vuelvan cara!’ (face about). On one side are his troopers, rough-looking fellows, carrying long-handled spears; their clothing, saddles, trappings, and equipments are all characteristic of their country. In the distance the Spanish cavalry are seen charging, in ignorance of the trap into which they are about to fall. The Venezuelan artist, Michelena, who received his education in Paris, has found abundant room for vivid colouring in the tropical landscape and sky, and the gaudy garments of his figures.”

VII.

The following account of the battle of Carabobo was written by an officer of the British legion, and was published in _All the Year Round_.

“We halted at dusk on the 23rd at the foot of the ridge. The rain fell in torrents all night, and reminded us of the night before Waterloo. Next morning the sky was cloudless when we stood to arms, and presently Bolívar sent us the order to advance. We were moving to get round the enemy’s right flank, where his guns and infantry were partly hidden by trees and broken ground. Bolívar, after reconnoitring, ordered us to attack by a deep ravine between the Spanish infantry and artillery. The enemy’s guns opened fire and our men began to fall. Meantime the Bravos de Apure had advanced within pistol-shot of the Spaniards, and received such a murderous volley from 3,000 muskets that they broke and fled back in disorder upon us.

“It was a critical moment, but we managed to keep our ground till the fugitives had got through our ranks back into the ravine, and then our grenadier company, gallantly led by Captain Minchin, formed up and poured in their fire upon the Spaniards, who were only a few paces from them. Checked by this volley, the enemy fell back a little, while our men, pressing eagerly on, formed and delivered their fire, company after company.

“Receding before our fire and the long line of British bayonets, the Spaniards fell back to the position from which they had rushed in pursuit of the Apure Bravos. But from thence they kept up a tremendous fire upon us, which we returned as rapidly as we could. As they outnumbered us in the ratio of four to one, and were strongly posted and supported by guns, we waited for reinforcements before storming their position. Not a man, however, came to help us, and after an hour passed in this manner our ammunition failed. It then really seemed to be all over with us. We tried as best we could to make signals of our distress; the men kept springing their ramrods, and Colonel Thomas Ferrier, our commanding officer, apprized General Paez of our situation, and called on him to get up a supply of cartridges. It came at last, but by this many of our officers and men had fallen, and among them Colonel Ferrier. You may imagine we were not long in breaking open the ammunition boxes; the men numbered off anew, and after delivering a couple of volleys we prepared to charge. At this moment our cavalry, passing as before by our right flank, charged, with General Paez at their head. They went on very gallantly, but soon came galloping back, and passed again to our rear, without having done any execution on the enemy, while they had themselves suffered considerably.

“Why Bolívar at this time, and indeed during the period since our first advance, sent us no support I have never been able to guess. Whatever the motive, it is certain that the second and third divisions of the army quietly looked on while we were being slaughtered, and made no attempt to help us. The curses of our men were loud and deep, but seeing that they must not expect any help they made up their minds to carry the enemy’s position or perish. Out of nine hundred men we had not above six hundred left. Captain Scott, who succeeded Colonel Ferrier, had fallen, and had bequeathed the command to Captain Minchin; and the colours of the regiment had seven times changed hands, and had been literally cut to ribands, and dyed with the blood of the gallant fellows who carried them. But, in spite of all this, the word was passed to charge with the bayonet, and on we went, keeping our line as steadily as on a parade day, and with a loud “hurrah” we were upon them. I must do the Spaniards the justice to say that they met us gallantly, and the struggle was for a brief time fierce, and the event doubtful. But the bayonet in the hands of British soldiers, more especially such a forlorn hope as we were, is irresistible. The Spaniards, five to one as they were, began to give ground, and at last broke and fled.

“Then it was, and not till then, that two companies of the Tiradores came up to our help, and our cavalry, hitherto of little use, fiercely pursued the retreating enemy.

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“The remains of the corps passed before the Liberator with trailed arms at double quick, and received with a cheer, but without halting, his words, ‘Salvadores de mi Patria!’”

BIOGRAPHICAL NOTES.

ALVARADO was in the year 1827 banished from Peru in consequence of the jealousy of the Peruvians of their Argentine allies. In 1829 he was for a month Governor of Mendoza, but was driven out by Aldao. In 1831 he was for a short time Governor of Salta, and again in 1855. He died in that city in the year 1872.

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ARENALES.--This stout old soldier was from 1824 to 1827 Governor of Salta, where the remnants of the Royalist army of Olañeta surrendered to him in 1825. He died in Bolivia in the year 1831.

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BROWN.--William Brown was born at Foxford, Co. Mayo, Ireland, in the year 1777, and made his first appearance in the River Plate as master of a trading brig which was wrecked at Ensenada. He afterwards established the first regular sailing packet between Buenos Ayres and Monte Video, but two years later adopted a career more in accordance with his daring genius. In 1814 he took command of the first naval squadron fitted out by the Government of Buenos Ayres. His first exploit was the capture of the island of Martin Garcia, after which he attacked and defeated the Spanish fleet stationed at Monte Video; and his subsequent blockade of that port compelled the garrison to surrender to General Alvear, who was then besieging the city. After his cruise in the Pacific, recounted in