Many of these Viceroys were notably honourable men, who refrained from taking a greater share than was necessary in the financial arrangements of the New World. At the same time, the opportunities for self-enrichment during the five years' tenure of office were quite unusually numerous. Not a few of the occupants of this post took advantage of these, and the extravagant manner of their subsequent life in Spain upheld to the full the popular tales which were current concerning the fabulous wealth of the Americas.

To go back to the early days of Peru, the inception of this colony, as has been said, was attended by even more violent disturbances than those common to its neighbours. We have already seen how, each the victim of strenuous jealousies, Almagro was executed at the instance of Pizarro, and how Pizarro himself a few years later was assassinated by the adherents of the dead Almagro's party, who now succeeded in raising to power his son, the younger Almagro.

This, however, by no means ended the era of catastrophe and chaos into which the great but youthful colony of Peru was now plunged. Very shortly after the death of Pizarro, Cristobal Vaca de Castro arrived in Peru on a mission from the Court of Spain to investigate the causes of the disturbances and warlike rumours which had reached the Mother Country. De Castro found himself in opposition to the younger Almagro, and a battle was fought. Almagro's forces were defeated, and he himself, although he escaped for a while to Cuzco, was captured and executed.

In 1543 Blasco Nunez Vela, the first Viceroy appointed by Spain, arrived in Peru, where he found de Castro in charge of the Government. Nunez Vela's methods proved themselves arbitrary in the extreme. Scarcely had he landed when he sent an abrupt command to de Castro to resign his post, and to place himself forthwith in attendance on the new Viceroy. This action roused the anger of the Pizarro faction. Its adherents revolted and established themselves at Cuzco.

It was precisely at this moment that a totally new factor in the way of officialdom presented itself in Peru. With the advent of the Royal Audience, a court of judges, newly founded and sent out from Spain, the situation grew still more wildly complicated. The Royal Audience, its dignity and unanimity shattered by the turmoil in the midst of which it found itself, divided its forces equally on either side. A battle was fought between the Viceroy and the forces of Gonzales Pizarro, in the course of which the latter obtained a decided victory, and Blasco Nunez de Vela was slain.

Having witnessed an almost continuous process of downfall of the various authorities, it is only natural that the sense of loyalty to Spain should have become somewhat obscured in the minds of the Peruvians. As a result, many of the colonists now urged independence of government, and begged Gonzales Pizarro to accept the throne of Peru.

Spain, judging that the matter had gone too far to be dealt with by any force but one of a magnitude which would have been inconvenient in the extreme to dispatch to so great a distance, now had resource to diplomacy. An ecclesiastic, Pedro de la Gasca, famed for his subtle methods and diplomatic strategy, was despatched to the disturbed colony. Gonzales Pizarro refused to acknowledge this new official, although a command to this effect was impressed upon him by a letter sent by the King of Spain.

The rupture was now complete. In the first instance the loyal troops were decisively defeated by Gonzales Pizarro; but very shortly afterwards the deep methods of La Gasca bore fruit. He was joined by troops from Chile, and by numerous forces from various other districts, while Pizarro's men began to desert him, continuing the process until the bold leader was left practically alone. Seeing there was no help for it, Gonzales Pizarro surrendered, and was in turn beheaded.

It is curious to remark that in these early and disturbed days of Peru no single leader was left to die a natural death. A second Viceroy, Antonio de Mendoza, was now appointed. He proved himself an able ruler, but, unfortunately, he died before he had occupied his post for two years. A further epoch of rebellion now followed, until Don Andres Hurtado de Mendoza, Marquis de Canete, was sent out from Spain to occupy the Viceroyalty. It was undoubtedly due to the strong rule of this important noble that affairs in Peru promised to settle themselves definitely. After his death, however, in 1561, his successor, Don Zuniga, Count de Nieva, was assassinated almost as soon as he took possession of his post.

It was during the government of one of Zuniga's successors, Toledo, that the young Inca, Tupac-Amaru, was executed in the great central square of Cuzco. The horror which this act is said to have instilled in the minds of the Indians is indescribable. The race had now sunk into a permanent state of melancholy.

All this while Spain had been unceasing in her demands for gold and silver, and it was necessary to work the mines strenuously in order to satisfy the greed of the Mother Country. As time went on, indeed, the difficulties which lay in the path of a conscientious Viceroy tended to increase rather than to diminish. It is true that the country did not now depend entirely for its prosperity upon its gold, for the valuable drugs and other natural products were now obtaining some recognition, and the cereals and general agricultural growths introduced from Europe were now becoming of genuine importance. Other matters, however, were beginning to cause deep anxiety to the ruling Powers. The buccaneers had now made their appearance in the Pacific, and the alarm spread by their presence frequently caused an entire cessation of trade. The jealousies, moreover, between the Spaniards and the colonials tended to increase, as the arrogance of the former grew and the resentment of the latter deepened.

True to her policy to discourage any attempt at authority on the part of the colonists, Spain had continued strenuously to refuse to appoint any but Spaniards to the highest posts. No single Viceroy, for instance, from first to last, was American born, although the holders of this high office included in their numbers four grandees, two priests, one Bishop, one Archbishop, three licentiates, and a number of military officers.

After a while, as was only natural, the tendency arose to split up the main areas of colonial government. Thus, in 1718, the Viceroyalty of Santa Fe de Bogota was established, and in 1777 that of Buenos Aires. Neither of these innovations had occurred a day too soon. With the growing population and the increasing political and commercial importance of the Continent, the strained machinery with which it had been attempted to govern all matters from a single centre had broken down and become useless so far as the remoter provinces were concerned. In the course of the settlements and of the industrial progress, such as it was, the claims and rights of the aborigines had become a negligible factor. Indeed, from any but an industrial point of view, the existence of the descendants of the Incas had practically been ignored.

In 1632 a minor revolution of Indians occurred, which resulted in a quaint species of naval engagement on Lake Titicaca, with the native balsas, or rafts, posing as diminutive battleships. In 1661 there was another outbreak. This was organized by Antonio Gallado, who succeeded in gaining possession of the town of La Paz, in which neighbourhood the Spanish authority became almost extinct for three years.

It was not until 1780, however, that the Spaniards met with the first really serious shock of Indian insurrection since the first extinction of the power of the Incas. This belated attempt was destined to be the last. The revolution had its origin in the system of forced labour which, despite the warnings and commands that from time to time were received on the subject from Spain, was continued to be imposed on the Indians.

In addition to this the unfortunate people were made to suffer further wrongs sufficient to rouse the most meek to rebellion. Thus by the laws of the Indies officials were appointed to provide the Indians with goods at certain prices. This system became abused to the point that the Spanish officials would distribute as much of these goods as they thought fit among the Indians at a price arbitrarily named by themselves. In consequence of this the impoverished folk were obliged to pay enormous and unfair prices for goods of which they were probably in no need of whatever, and did not desire.

An intelligent Indian, Jose Gabriel Condorcanqui, determined on a desperate effort to alleviate the condition of his people. Condorcanqui had received a far more generous education than the majority of his fellows, and had studied at the College of San Bernardo, in Cuzco. He spoke the Castilian tongue perfectly, and was thus enabled to hold a minor official post in the Spanish service. Claiming descent from the Royal Incas, he subsequently added the name of Tupac-Amaru to his own.



It was on November 4, 1780, that Tupac-Amaru, by which name he was now universally known, made his first move. Gathering some trusty men about him, he captured a Spanish corregidor, Arriaga, and, charging that official with offences against the Indians, caused him to be executed. On this the Indians flocked to their new defender's standard, and he was soon at the head of 6,000 men. Tupac-Amaru now determined on an extensive campaign. After an attack on Cuzco, he marched with 60,000 Indians to besiege La Paz itself, while the isolated Spanish forces were overwhelmed in all directions.

La Paz succeeded in resisting the desperate onslaught of the Indian army, and the tide of fortune now turned against the Inca leader. After a battle waged in the open, he was captured and put to a horrible death. His tongue was torn out by the executioner; each of his limbs was attached to a horse, then, the four horses being furiously driven in different directions, his body was torn into four portions. It was in this way that the unfortunate Tupac-Amaru died, the last of the Inca race who attempted to assert the rights of his people.

With the exception of rare revolts such as these, and of the periodical onslaughts which the buccaneers of all nations made upon the Pacific ports, it is a little remarkable to consider how few dramatic episodes took place during the colonial era in Peru. It is true that one or two events occurred deserving of note. Thus, in 1551, the University of San Marcos was established at Lima, and was the first institution of the kind to be founded in the New World. In 1573 occurred the first auto-da-fe, followed by numerous other such grim ceremonies, for Lima was naturally the head-quarters of the Inquisition. In 1746 the capital suffered from a terrible catastrophe, being visited by an earthquake which shattered the senior city of the Continent, while at the same time a great tidal wave swept away the port of the capital, Callao.

Beyond this one Viceroy succeeded another; the mines continued to be worked, and, in response to the incessant clamourings of Spain, the miners were flogged and driven willy-nilly to their unwelcome task. As time went on the relative importance of Peru compared to the neighbouring States tended to diminish rather than to increase. The most profitable and most easily worked of the then known gold and silver mines had been practically denuded of their treasure. There were others in plenty, but these were more remote, and the difficulty of communication which then prevailed was sufficiently great to render impossible any attempt at a remunerative working of these. With the decrease in the working of minerals greater attention was now paid to the pastoral and agricultural industries, and with the growth of these the value and importance of the neighbouring countries increased vastly. This state of affairs was at length acknowledged by the Court of Spain, and was emphasized in 1776 when Buenos Aires was made the seat of a Viceroyalty, and was thus released from the last shred of supervision on the part of the Peruvian officials.

We are now approaching the stage of the War of Independence. This, in Peru, as elsewhere, was heralded by the newly-acquired liberal spirit of the colonials, which, in spite of repressions and precautions on the part of Spain, could no longer be kept in check. It is true that in Peru, the chief centre of Spanish officialdom in the Continent, these manifestations were rather slower in asserting themselves than in the neighbouring countries, but this was inevitable when the extent of the moral influence employed by the numerous officials, and the active discouragement exerted by the important garrison of the Spanish headquarters of the Continent, are taken into consideration.

Curiously enough, the history of one of Peru's last Viceroys is permeated with an atmosphere of romance in which the careers of his predecessors were almost entirely lacking. Ambrose O'Higgins, the most striking figure of all the lengthy line of Viceroys, had started life as a bare-footed Irish boy. He is said to have been employed by Lady Bective to run errands at Dangan Castle, Co. Meath. Through the influence of an uncle in Spain, a priest, the lad was sent to Cadiz. From there, having in the meanwhile become familiar with the Spanish tongue, he proceeded to South America, landed in Buenos Aires, and then travelled westwards across the Andes, arriving in safety on the Pacific coast. Here he appears to have adopted the profession of an itinerant trader, journeying to and fro through the territories of the Viceroyalty of Peru and the Government of Chile. His career during this period of his existence was unbrokenly humble, and certainly the adventurous Irishman himself, even in his wildest moments, could scarcely have possessed any inkling of the marvellous future which awaited him.

The first step in this direction was made in one of his excursions to the south, when by a fortunate chance he obtained an opportunity to demonstrate his inherent warlike qualities in the battles against the Araucanian Indians. Having once got his foot upon the official ladder, O'Higgins never stepped back. The Home Government of Spain appeared to regard his career with a benevolent interest. He obtained the rank of Colonel; from this he was promoted to that of Brigadier-General, and was made Count of Balenar. A little later he was made Major-General, and in 1792 he attained to the rank of Captain-General of Chile, and the title of Marquis of Osorno was conferred upon him. Two years later he was promoted once again, this time to the rank of Lieutenant-General.

The progressive policy of O'Higgins occasionally brought him into collision with some of the more retrogressive officials; but the strength of his character appears to have prevailed throughout, and it is certainly to the credit of Spain that it singled out and upheld so courageous and broad-minded an official.

O'Higgins's greatest office, however, was still before him. In 1796 he was created Viceroy of Peru, and thus became the highest official throughout the New World. No fairy story has ever produced a more startling study of career and contrast than that which had fallen to the lot of the erstwhile bare-footed Irish boy.

The remarkable history of the family of O'Higgins, however, does not end even here. Ambrose O'Higgins was undoubtedly the most brilliant Viceroy who had ever served Spain in the New World. The candle of this high office, as it were, flamed up in a great, but transient, flicker ere it was for ever extinguished, and it was O'Higgins who fed this flame. With the passing of Ambrose O'Higgins we are confronted with the next generation of his family. As the father had done in the interests of regal Spain, so did the son in the service of the southern patriots. Bernardo O'Higgins, indeed, was destined to accomplish yet greater things in the cause of the Independence of South America. Ambrose O'Higgins was one of Spain's last Viceroys; his son Bernardo became one of the first Presidents of the New Republican World.



CHAPTER XII

THE COLONY OF CHILE

In Chile, as has been said, the conquest of the land was effected under far more strenuous circumstances than those which applied to any other part of South America, with the exception, perhaps, of the coasts in the neighbourhood of the estuary of the River Plate. In the early days of Chile it is literally true that the colonists were obliged to go about their labours with a handful of seed in one hand and a weapon of defence in the other. It was owing to this constant warlike preoccupation that the early cities of Chile were of so comparatively mean an order, for, harassed by continuous Indian attacks as they were, the settlers could find no leisure to devote their energies to anything of a pretentious or even reasonably commodious order in the way of town-building.

In the north of the Continent the enervating climate, facile conquest, and easy life had naturally tended to atrophy the energy of the Spaniards. In Chile, on the other hand, the constant and fierce struggles of the warlike natives, the hardships and frugal living, and the temperate and exhilarating atmosphere, tended not only to preserve the energy, but even to increase the virility of the settler in the south.

It is true that in the central provinces of the country, where the Indians were less numerous and less warlike than the Araucanians of the south, a certain number of the natives were distributed into encomiendas, and set to work at enforced tasks, but the number of these, compared with those which existed in the centre and north of the Continent, remained utterly insignificant. As to the Araucanians themselves, their indomitable nature absolutely forbade an existence under such conditions.

It was not only with the aborigines of their new country that the Spanish settlers in Chile had to contend. Nature had in store for them a species of catastrophe which was admirably adapted to test their fortitude to an even greater degree. Thus in 1570 the newly-founded city of Concepcion was brought to the ground by an earthquake, and some eighty years later the larger centre of Santiago became a heap of smoking ruins from the same cause. Indeed, throughout the history of both the colonial and independent eras Chile has been from time to time visited by such terrible calamities as these. In every instance, however, the disaster has left the inhabitants undismayed, and new and larger towns have risen upon the sites of the old.

Chile, probably owing to the comparatively limited area of its soil, was never raised to the rank of a Viceroyalty; nevertheless the Governorship of the province was, of course, one of the most important on the Continent. After the death of Valdivia on the field of battle, Francisco Villagran was elected as chief of the new colony. At the period when he assumed command there had come about one of the most severe of the many crises through which the young colony was destined to pass. The Araucanians, emboldened by their victories, now pressed on to the attack from all sides with an impetuosity and confidence which proved irresistible. The south was for the time being abandoned, and the Spanish women and children were hurriedly sent by sea to Valparaiso, while the harassed army retired towards the north.

Presently Lautaro, the famous Araucanian chief, at the head of his undefeated army, marched in the track of the retreating Spaniards, and threatened Santiago itself. But for an access of over-confidence on the part of the natives, it is likely enough that the Spanish power would have been completely swept from Chile. Villagran, returning to the capital with reinforcements, found the investing Araucanian army in a totally unprepared condition. Some were carousing, many slept, and in any case the majority were drunk, a state to which, as a matter of fact, these southern Indians were only too prone at all times. Villagran, perceiving his opportunity, fell upon the demoralized native army, and defeated them utterly with great slaughter. Lautaro himself, the flower of the Araucanian warriors, perished in the ensuing struggle.

Villagran had thoroughly deserved this success, which had crowned one of the most exhausting periods of the terrific struggle. He possessed, in the first place, many fine qualities as a leader, and was one of the toughest, bravest, and most honest of the conquistadores. Unfortunately for himself, these qualities did not appear to suffice in the eyes of the highest Spanish official in South America. Shortly after his victory Villagran was superseded by Garcia Hurtado de Mendoza, son of the Viceroy of Peru. Mendoza possessed many good points; at the same time, he had to a full degree many of the faults which characterized so great a number of the Spanish noblemen of the period. Thus, he was unduly arrogant and autocratic towards his comrades of inferior rank, flinging Villagran into prison on his first arrival in the country as the result of little beyond a whim. On the other hand, it must be admitted that Mendoza spared no endeavours to conciliate and treat with kindness the Araucanian Indians.

Garcia Hurtado de Mendoza had some reason for his arrogance. At twenty years of age, when sent by his father to Chile at the head of his force, he had already distinguished himself by his bravery, and, according to one biographer, had already fought in Corsica, Tuscany, Flanders, and in France. Even in that age there were not many who could boast of having effected all this when still in their teens. It was little wonder that he was high-spirited, wilful, and impetuous. Ercilla represents him as very ardent in battle, sometimes fighting himself, sometimes urging on his soldiers, always in movement. At the time of the Araucanian invasion he addressed his troops in the most humane terms. One of his sayings was to the effect that—"An enemy who surrenders is a friend whom we ought to protect; it is a greater thing to give life than to destroy it." Sentiments of this kind were doubly commendable when, judging from their rarity, they could scarcely have been popular.

Notwithstanding his good intentions towards the Araucanians, Mendoza soon found himself involved in a struggle to the death with the now hereditary foes of his race, for the southern Indians—maintaining their reputation—proved themselves implacable, and would hear nothing of compromise. After many fierce battles, in the course of which fortune ebbed either way, Mendoza succeeded in capturing Caupolican, who was tortured to death, an episode which caused a short lull in the fevered activities of the Spanish forces.

In 1560 Mendoza was abruptly ordered by King Philip II. of Spain to surrender his post as Governor to Francisco Villagran. That fine old conquistador was now worn out in body and a wreck of his former self. The furious combats with the Araucanians broke out afresh, and continued unabated. A series of disasters shattered the spirit of Villagran, and sent him to his grave. Following this came the usual succession of Governors, and the unbroken continuance of the Indian wars, victory and disaster alternately succeeding each other to an extent which would prove monotonous if an attempt at description were made.



There is only one instance, I believe, of a white man having gained the complete confidence of the Araucanians, and this did not occur until a century after the two races had first come into contact with each other. It is said that in 1642—thirty-nine years after the town of Valdivia had been captured from the Spaniards and destroyed—Colonel Alonzo de Villanueva, who had been sent to the south with the object of regaining possession of the city, effected this without bloodshed by the employment of an extraordinary amount of tact and patience. He landed at a point a little to the south of Valdivia, and boldly made his appearance quite alone among the astonished warriors. He remained with them for two years, when, having won their respect and confidence, he proposed that they should appoint him their Governor at Valdivia, explaining that by this move they would effect a reconciliation with the Spaniards, and, in consequence, obtain many material benefits. The Araucanians readily fell in with the idea, and in 1645 Valdivia was rebuilt, and was again populated. Undoubtedly in the middle of the seventeenth century time was of very little value in Chile, and in any case it would seem that to effect so brilliant a result at so little cost was worth the two years' wait!

In 1577 Sir Francis Drake made his appearance in the Pacific, and was the pioneer of the adventurers who were to follow in the wake of his keel. Thus new anxieties were added to the minds of the Chilean officials, although it must be said that the colonists, when they once became accustomed to the visits of these foreigners, gave them an increasingly friendly reception, notwithstanding the hostility evinced towards them by the Spaniards. It was not long before this new and grim type of visitor increased in numbers and grew cosmopolitan.

The Dutch, always on the look out for a weapon with which to flog their enemies the Spaniards, had managed to glean intelligence of the successful warfare which the Araucanians in Southern Chile were waging against the Spanish troops. When the news of the separation of Portugal from Spain reached Holland, the position of that country's forces in Brazil became automatically somewhat unsettled—at all events in theory, and finally in practice. It was then that the idea occurred to them to establish settlements in equally fertile and less tropical climates.

A squadron was fitted out by the Dutch navigator, Brouwer, and in 1642 it sailed into the Pacific Ocean, and the troops effected a landing on the Island of Chiloe. Here they succeeded in inflicting a defeat upon the Spanish forces. It was now the policy of the invader to establish friendly relations with the Araucanians. Before long they persuaded a number of the chiefs to enter into an alliance with them; this brought about, they prepared to establish themselves permanently in the south of Chile.

First of all they erected a fort at Valdivia without encountering any opposition on the part of the natives. After this they began to trade; but they permitted their lust of gain to outweigh their discretion. So eager did they show themselves to obtain gold in exchange for weapons and other objects coveted by the dusky races, that the Araucanians became suspicious, and in the end awoke to the fact that the presence of the Dutch in their country was due to precisely the same causes as had attracted the Spanish. Disillusioned, they withdrew their hastily extended friendship, and retired to their own haunts, lending a passive rather than an active resistance to those strangers with whom they still remained on outward terms of friendship. The relations, however, became more strained when, on the rare occasions when the two races came into contact, the Indians refused to supply the Dutch with provisions. This policy of the Araucanians won them their object, for in the end the Dutch, unable to subsist without the supplies for which they depended on the Indians, were forced to relinquish their settlements and to abandon the country.

An English expedition, with more peaceful intent, under the command of Sir John Narborough, set sail from England towards the end of 1669, and arrived in Valdivia in 1670. On this occasion the hands of the Commander were strictly tied, since he had received implicit injunctions not to fall foul of the Spaniards; thus, when he endeavoured to trade with the Indians, the Spaniards took prisoner his lieutenant and three of his men, whom they detained.

Sir John, it is said, contemplated rescuing his men by force, but the fate of the unfortunate Sir Walter Raleigh, according to some ancient historians, stayed his hand, and he reluctantly sailed from the coast, leaving these four members of his crew prisoners of the Spaniards.

Rolt, who published a "History of South America" in 1766, has a rather curious account of the methods by which the inhabitants of the town of Concepcion in Chile carried on their business with the Indians.

"There is a beneficial trade carried on by the inhabitants of the city of Conception, with the Indians behind them, who trade with the Spaniards in a very peculiar manner, though they have never negociated a peace with Spain. These Indians are called Aucaes, and inhabit the mountains, where they retain the primitive customs and manners of their ancestors. When a Spaniard comes to trade with them, he addresses himself to the Cacique, or Chief, who, on perceiving a stranger, cries out, What, are you come? The Spaniard answers, Yes, I am come. Then the Cacique says, Well? What have you brought me? The merchant answers, A present. And the prince replies, Then you are welcome. He then provides a lodging for the merchant near his own, where all the family go to visit the stranger, in expectation of some present; and, in the meantime, a horn is sounded to give notice to the Indians who are abroad that a merchant has arrived. This soon assembles them together about the merchant, who exhibits his treasure, consisting of knives, scissors, pins, needles, ribbands, small looking-glasses, and other toys, which the Indians carry away, after settling the price, without getting anything in exchange; but, after a certain time has elapsed, the horn is sounded again, by the direction of the Cacique; when the Indians immediately return, and punctually perform their respective engagements, the goods they deal in being cattle, skins of wild beasts, and some gold; but they bring very small quantities of the latter, as they are sensible how dear the possession of that metal cost their ancestors and their neighbours."

In the various treaties which were engineered from time to time between the Spaniards and the Araucanians, one of the most important clauses which the Spaniards invariably endeavoured to insert was to the effect that the Indians were to oppose to the utmost of their power by force of arms the founding of any foreign colony in the territories occupied by them. Thus the attitude of the Araucanians towards foreigners was apt to depend to some extent on whether they happened to be at peace or at war with their Spanish neighbours. It was owing to this, moreover, that the European adventurers found themselves attacked when they had very little reason to fear an onslaught. One of these instances occurred in 1638, when the natives murdered the survivors of a shipwrecked Dutch crew. There were times, on the other hand, when the enmity between the Indians and the Spaniards induced the former to render every assistance to the rovers who came, whether by accident or design, to their coasts. It is certain that the accounts of these foreigners retailed by the Spaniards to the natives were not of a nature to render the intruders popular in the eyes of the dusky southern dwellers.

During the chief part of the colonial era the town of Valdivia, in Southern Chile, was employed as a sort of convict station for the white criminals of Peru and Chile, and incidentally for a number of persons whose sole crimes were of a political order. These prisoners were employed in the erection of the fortifications of the spot, and the ruins which still exist attest the solidarity and the extent of the buildings. A large annual sum was wont to be allotted for the maintenance of these fortifications, and for other objects connected with the sustenance of both the prisoners and the garrison. It seems to have been necessary to expend only a very small proportion of this sum on the objects for which the allowance was originally intended, and from its enormous financial opportunities the post of Governor of Valdivia was one of the most sought after of any on the west coast of South America.

The later colonial era of Chile, like that of Peru, is very little concerned with dramatic episode, with the exception, of course, of the raids on the part of foreigners which took place from time to time along the coast. Yet it is curious to remark that in Chile, at the same time as these buccaneers were burning, plundering, and fighting, other vessels, more especially those of the French, were carrying on a trade in peace with the various ports of the state. This commerce, moreover, continued growing steadily, and the influence of the foreigners upon the Chileans in time became marked, and was largely responsible for the broad-minded views which prevailed among the colonials.



CHAPTER XIII

THE COLONIES OF PARAGUAY AND THE RIVER PLATE

We have seen how the Spaniards, having in the first instance attempted without success to establish themselves in Buenos Aires, had made their way up the great river system to Asuncion, and, having become firmly settled there, had in the end extended their dominions to the south again, and had founded the town of Buenos Aires for the second time. In the early days of these particular settlements, notwithstanding this extension to the south-east, Asuncion remained the capital of the province, which was known as that of Paraguay. The two currents of civilization, the one advancing from the south-east, and the other proceeding from the north-west, at length met in the territory which is now occupied by the north-western Territories of Argentina.

It may be said that Argentina of to-day was colonized from three directions—the first by means of the River Plate and its tributaries, the second by the passage of the Andes from the west, and the third by an advance from the direction of Bolivia. Thus the north-western section of present-day Argentina had become, as it were, the centre towards which all the Castilian forces were converging.

As time went on, the balance of importance tended to assert itself in the direction of Buenos Aires. Little by little the city of Asuncion, although remaining notable from the administrative point of view, became of less and less standing as a commercial centre. That which undoubtedly helped to retard the progress of Asuncion was the almost continual strife which prevailed in that town between the Jesuits and the members, not only of the laity, but of the rival clergy as well. The Jesuits, moreover, were the reverse of popular with the Spanish landowners of Paraguay, for the reason that the missionaries had collected together the Indians in self-supporting communities and towns, thus depriving the colonists of the enforced labour which they now looked upon as one of their rights.

These Jesuit settlements in Paraguay have been too fully dealt with to need anything in the way of an elaborate description here. Let it suffice to say that the famous communities were in many respects socialistic. The land, for instance, throughout the mission areas was held for the common good, and its produce was wont to be divided into three parts—one of which was devoted to the Church, the second to the State, and the third to the private use of the Indian agriculturalists. It is now generally conceded that, in consideration of the gross, sensual, and totally unintelligent human clay with which the Missionary Fathers had to deal, their efforts were astonishingly successful. At the same time, the labours of these Jesuits were carried on largely in the dark—that is to say, fearing the influence of the white man upon their converts, they refused admission to their land to any Spaniards. This method, as has since been proved, was fully justified by the colonizing circumstances which prevailed at the time; nevertheless, it was only natural that it should have provoked a deep anger on the part of the Spanish settlers, in whose eyes these missions of the Jesuits had as their chief end the enriching of the pockets of the Order at the expense of those of the colonists.

Towards the middle of the seventeenth century matters reached a crisis in Asuncion. The newly-appointed Bishop, Don Bernardino de Cardenas, showed himself most actively opposed to the works of the Jesuits in Paraguay. An open hostility soon manifested itself between the two powers, and the strife grew more and more bitter until, not only the entire body of the clergy, but the Governor, the officials, and the laymen were involved as well. Whatever were the faults which the Jesuits may have committed in Paraguay—and to what extent these have been exaggerated is now patent—it is quite certain that Cardenas was a being totally unfitted to be invested with the dignity and responsibility of a Bishop's office.

It is true that his eloquence in preaching was superb; this, however, undoubtedly arose rather from an acutely developed artistic sense than from any profound religious convictions. Cardenas, in fact, showed himself upon occasions hysterical and wayward to a point which was absolutely childish. This peculiarity in a person holding so important a position as his naturally produced utter confusion in Paraguay. According to Mr. R.B. Cunninghame Graham, these were some of the methods by which the Bishop in the end utterly scandalized the more sober of his congregation:

"The Bishop, not being secure of his position, had recourse to every art to catch the public eye: fasting and scourging, prayers before the altar, two Masses every day, barefooted processions—himself the central figure carrying a cross—each had their turn. Along the deep red roads between the orange gardens which lead from Asuncion towards the Recoleta on Campo Grande, he used to take his way accompanied by Indians crowned with flowers, giving his benediction as he passed, to turn away (according to himself) the plague, and to insure a fertile harvest. Not being content with the opportunities which life afforded, he instituted an evening service in church in order to prepare for death."

These, however, were only some of the milder uses to which the Bishop put his histrionic talents in order to prove his claim to sainthood.

The fortunes of Cardenas varied considerably, but on the whole his extraordinary versatility kept him afloat in the public estimation. He at one time, however, very nearly incurred the popular resentment owing to his having taken up the body of a suicide, and caused it to be interred in holy ground from the force of a mere whim. The uproar consequent on this he managed to overrule, and having got the better of Don Gregorio, the Civil Governor, the Bishop actually elected himself Governor in his place, and now became supreme in Asuncion, from which place the Jesuits were forced to flee in haste to their establishments in the country.

Each side now brought endless charges against the other, and in the middle of the wordy warfare the validity of Cardenas's appointment to the Bishopric was questioned. Nevertheless, Cardenas succeeded in retaining his office, and after a while issued a declaration excommunicating the entire Order of the Jesuits, after which, having sworn to the people that he possessed a Decree from the King of Spain, he issued an order commanding the expulsion of the Jesuits from Paraguay. This was carried into effect at Asuncion, and the College of the Order was sacked and gutted by fire. Outside the boundaries of the capital, however, this command had no effect whatever, and the great settlements of the Jesuits far away in the forests were totally unaffected by any mandate given at Asuncion.

The Bishop had now gone too far in his policy of aggression. The High Court at Charcas summoned him to appear before its tribunal at once, and to give his reasons for the expulsion of the Jesuits and his appointment of himself as Governor of Paraguay. At the same time a new Governor, Don Sebastian de Leon, was appointed to Paraguay. Cardenas determined to resist. He raised an army, and, claiming Divine inspiration, promised his followers an undoubted victory, and ordered them to supply themselves with cords in order to bind the prisoners which should fall to their share. The rival forces met just outside Asuncion. The unfortunate troops of Cardenas found no use for their cords, since, totally defeated, they fled in haste. Judging mercy to be most seasonable at this juncture, the new Governor commanded his men to march to the capital, but to desist from pursuing the defeated forces.

In the meanwhile Cardenas had lost no time. Realizing his complete defeat, he had fled secretly to Asuncion. Arriving there ahead of Don Sebastian de Leon's forces, he had dressed himself in his finest robes and seated himself on the throne of the cathedral. It was there that Don Sebastian de Leon found him when he entered.

The new Governor acted with supreme courtesy; he kissed the Bishop's hand, and ceremoniously requested him to spare him the baton of the civil power. In silence Cardenas complied with his request, and then retired, accompanied by his retinue. After this Asuncion knew him no more. Naturally the days of his supreme power were over, but he was still provided with an ecclesiastical office. He was made Bishop of La Paz, a benefice he continued to hold until his death.

Owing largely to their situation, these provinces in the south-east of the Continent continued from time to time to elude some of the stricter regulations and restrictions which were supposed to be applied to the whole Continent. Thus at the end of the sixteenth century the Governorship of the River Plate was entrusted to Hernando Arias de Saavedra, who is more familiarly known as Hernandarias. He was the first colonial-born subject of Spain to be gratified by such an honour. The appointment, as a matter of fact, was somewhat remarkable, as without a doubt it was strictly against the spirit of the Laws of the Indies, which utterly forbade any appointment of the kind to be entrusted to a colonial-born person.

Hernandarias, it must be said, makes one of the most remarkable figures of all the high officials of the River Plate. He proved himself a strenuous warrior, and, anxious to extend his frontiers, he carried on a tremendous warfare with the fierce Indians of the Pampa. The Governor, moreover, was gifted with no little foresight and practical common sense. Finding it impossible to establish a footing among the implacable natives of Uruguay, he caused a number of cattle, horses, and sheep to be sent across the great river, and to be let loose among the rich pastures of that country. He knew, he said (and it was not long before the future proved him right), that this land would one day be the property of the Spaniards, and thus these cattle which he sent over would, when the time came, be found to have multiplied themselves to an infinite extent, which, of course, fell out as he had anticipated.

Hernandarias, moreover, led an expedition to the south, and endeavoured to take possession of Patagonia. Here, after various disasters, he inflicted a severe defeat on the Indians; but few definite steps towards the practical colonization of the far south appear to have been taken at this period.

Hernandarias, enthusiastic soldier though he proved himself, by no means confined his energies to the arts of war; in statesmanship his ideas were progressive. Having once subdued the wilder Indians, he led the way to peaceful co-operation. According to Senor J.M. Estrada—

"Hernandarias devoted his whole soul to the development of a species of colonization which he terms the spiritual conquest—that is to say, he inculcated into the country the Christian spirit of discipline, civilization, and concord. He awoke the soul of the savage, and turned his instincts in search of better things than he had known. He closed the barracks of the soldiers and opened the Colleges of the Missionaries."

In some respects Hernandarias's tenure of office resembled that of Irala, for, although unanimously elected by the colonists, in whose eyes he was estimated at his true value, the official ratification of Spain of his appointment was many years in forthcoming, the principal reason for the delay being, of course, due to the fact of his colonial birth. On several occasions his government was interrupted owing to this, and, indeed, Hernandarias may be said to have ruled for various distinct periods. It was only on November 7, 1614, that he received the definite appointment as Governor from the Court of Spain.

It was at this period that the Government of the River Plate was separated from that of Paraguay, Buenos Aires being made the capital of the former, while Asuncion remained the capital of the latter. This process of subdivision was continued until, at the period when the Viceroyalty of Buenos Aires was constituted, it consisted of the provinces of Paraguay, Tucuman, Cuyo, the River Plate, Santa Cruz de la Sierra, and Charcas.

The value of these River Plate provinces was now become apparent to Spain. Lacking in minerals though they were, these south-eastern territories of the Continent were now exporting an amazing quantity of horns, hides, tallow, and other such produce of the pastoral industry. So abundant, indeed, had become the wild herds of cattle which roamed on the plains of the alluvial country that a stray buccaneer or two landed a force with the object of collecting horns and hides.

At a later period a French adventurer of the name of Moreau endeavoured to establish himself permanently on the Uruguayan shore for this purpose. He had already fortified himself, and had collected a considerable store of hides, when he was attacked by the Spaniards and driven from the spot. He returned to attempt the venture for the second time, but his force was again defeated, and on this occasion he lost his life.

The Indians in these provinces had now become expert horsemen. They, too, possessed their share of the enormous quantities of live stock with which the country abounded; but if from drought or any other such cause the numbers of their animals grew uncomfortably diminished, they would raid the European settlements, and, taking the colonists by surprise and slaughtering without mercy, would sweep the country-side clear of live stock, and scamper away to their own haunts at top speed.

Thus the hatred between the natives and the colonials grew ever more bitter, and weapons, ambushes, and massacres constituted the sole means of communication between the two. These Indians of the open plains proved themselves formidable enemies, and, utterly merciless as they showed themselves to the vanquished, they rapidly became a continual source of dread to the pioneers living in the remoter settlements.

In 1767, when the order was received from Spain to expel the Jesuits from the Spanish colonies in South America, the expulsion took place unattended by any untoward circumstances in such places as Cordoba, Corrientes, Montevideo, and Santa Fe. In these places the buildings that had been devoted to the objects of the Order were ransacked, and, unfortunately, many valuable collections of books and similar objects were destroyed.

The authorities regarded with more hesitation the carrying out of the orders from Spain in the province of Paraguay. Many tens of thousands of Indians formed part of the Jesuit settlements, and the influence of the Company was supreme throughout all the territories which now constitute North-West Uruguay, South-East Paraguay, and South-West Brazil.

Don Francisco de Paula Bucareli y Ursua, the Governor of Buenos Aires, marched north in order to effect the eviction. Bucareli's few companies of troops would, of course, in actual warfare have stood no chance whatever against the numerous Indian regiments which the Jesuit missions now possessed. Bucareli relied on his gifts of tact and diplomacy, of which he gave no small evidence during the negotiations which ensued. As it turned out, the employment of neither of these qualities, nor of the troops which he brought with him, proved necessary, for the Jesuits expressed themselves ready and willing to comply with the order, and, having obeyed it, they were escorted to Buenos Aires. From thence they were sent by ship to Europe, and the great social structure they had erected fell forthwith to the ground.

The districts which had formerly been occupied by the mission Indians became after a while practically depopulated, and the Portuguese, remarking this state of affairs, decided that the moment was favourable for aggression. Thus, in 1801, Portuguese troops from the town of San Pedro advanced against the Spanish port on the western shore of the Lake Patos, whilst others advanced towards the River Prado.

The majority of these invaders appear to have been more or less of the freebooting order. One of the most notable bodies was commanded by Jose Borges do Canto, who assembled a small army of forty men, which he armed at his own expense. Learning that the Indians, bereft now of their Jesuit Fathers and discontented with the Spanish rule, would take the first opportunity of rising against the Spaniards, he determined to push on towards the site of the old missions.

At San Miguel the band of desperadoes came across an entrenchment manned by Spaniards. These, entirely deceived as to the real importance of the force which attacked them, retired after the exchange of a few shots, and capitulated on condition of permission to retreat unmolested. This was granted, but the retiring Spanish garrison was almost immediately afterwards taken prisoner by another roving Portuguese body. It was some while before their protests caused them to be liberated.

In the end the Portuguese obtained possession of much territory by means of this invasion, including that of the seven famous missions of San Francisco Borja, San Miguel, San Joao, San Angelo, San Nicolau, San Laurenco, and San Luiz.

We arrive now at an event which exercised an even greater influence on the destiny of South America in general than was suspected at the time. This was the invasion of the River Plate Provinces by the British. Undoubtedly, one of the prime causes of this invasion was the presence of the famous South American patriot, Miranda, in England, and the antagonism which existed at the time between Great Britain and Spain.

Urged by Miranda, Pitt determined to lend active military assistance to the South American colonists. Many of these were now openly demonstrating their sense of discontent, yet none, it must be said, had so far shown any inclination or desire to go to the length of taking up arms against the Mother Country. It was, nevertheless, entirely on this latter supposition that the British forces sailed for the River Plate.

The first expedition consisted of some 1,600 troops, under the orders of General Beresford, which were transported to Buenos Aires by a fleet under Admiral Home Popham. On June 27, 1806, Buenos Aires was captured. The Viceroy, Sobremonte, demonstrated remarkably little warlike ardour, fleeing in haste before the advancing British. A French naval officer in the service of the Spanish, Don Santiago Liniers, organized an army of relief at Montevideo, to which all the South American volunteers, officers and troops, flocked. The local forces, now powerfully recruited, crossed the River Plate, attacked Buenos Aires, and won the city back for the Spanish Crown on August 12. Admiral Popham, notwithstanding this, remained in the River Plate with his fleet, and, having blockaded the estuary, received reinforcements from the Cape of Good Hope. By means of these the town of Maldonado was captured. A little later more important bodies of British troops arrived on the scene. Commanded by General Auchmuty, these attacked Montevideo, which fell into the hands of the invaders on February 3, 1807.

Determined to pursue its operations in this quarter of the world, the British Government now despatched General Whitelocke with a formidable army to the River Plate. Twelve thousand of the finest British troops were now established at Montevideo preparing for the expedition which was to bring Buenos Aires within the British Empire. The attempt, however, failed completely, and a terrible disaster ensued, the cause of which is imputed entirely to the crass folly of Whitelocke, who sent his regiments to march through the streets of the town, to be shot down in hundreds by the determined defenders congregated on the housetops.

In many instances the result of this extraordinary piece of strategy was mere slaughter, since the British troops, many of whom had been charged to use nothing beyond the bayonet and to refrain from firing, could adopt no retaliatory measures whatever. In the circumstances total defeat was inevitable, and at the end of the engagement the General found himself a prisoner in the hands of the South Americans. On this Whitelocke signed a treaty agreeing to evacuate the River Plate Provinces altogether, and within two months not a British soldier was left in Buenos Aires and Montevideo. On his arrival home Whitelocke underwent a court-martial, and was cashiered with well deserved and bitter censure.

Apart from the extraordinary incompetence—to call it by no worse name—shown by General Whitelocke, there is some doubt as to whether the British would have succeeded in permanently retaining possession of the territory they had captured. For one thing, their expectations that the colonials would join them were not realized. The inherent loyalty of the South American to the motherland forbade any such move at the time. Nevertheless, it is freely acknowledged that this English expedition played no small part in the ultimate liberation of South America, since it was owing to the invasion that the South Americans, deserted by their Viceroy, had only themselves on whom to rely for the expulsion of the expeditionary army. From the force of no initiative of their own, they had been left to their own resources, and had found that their strength did not fail them. Amid the doubts and hesitations of later days the knowledge of this played an important part.



CHAPTER XIV

THE NORTHERN COLONIES

It is, to a certain extent, difficult for one familiar with the South America of to-day to realize the New Granada of the Spanish colonial period. From Guiana westward along the northern coast was an extensive and, for the most part, unexploited stretch of territory, devoid of such arbitrary boundaries as characterize it to-day, and limited only on the north and west by the sea, and on the south by the Portuguese colony of Brazil and the great Spanish territory of Peru. Venezuela, Colombia, and Ecuador, and the sharply defined limits these names represent, are, of course, modern creations, comparatively speaking. For centuries the landward boundaries of Spanish New Granada remained shadowy, indefinite limits. There was a Viceroyalty of New Granada, so named from the resemblance between the plains around Bogota and the Vega of the Moorish capital, and there was a Captain-Generalship of Venezuela. New Granada was estimated as comprising all the country between 60 deg. and 78 deg. west longitude, and between 6 deg. to 15 deg. north latitude. In this was included Venezuela, under which name was comprised an extent of territory far less important than is at present the case.

As has been related, Ximines de Quesada, together with Benalcazar, the Governor of Quito, conquered the district of Bogota, and founded that city in 1538. After this followed the banishment of Quesada by the Spanish authorities, his return and his wise rule of the country—over which he was appointed Marshal—from 1551 onwards. Later, after his appointment as Adelantado, he devoted three years of toil and an enormous amount of wealth to the quest of El Dorado. Three hundred Spaniards, 2,000 Indians, and 1,200 horses set out on this quest; 24 men and 32 horses only returned. The costly myth of El Dorado, from the earliest days of its conception, was insatiable in the matter of human lives.

Quesada died, like one or two other great figures of medieval times, of leprosy, after having founded the city of Santa Aguda in 1572. He left behind him a will in which he requested that no extravagant monument should be erected over his grave—a rather superfluous request as it turned out, since he also left debts to the value of 60,000 ducats! The city of Bogota holds his remains, which were conveyed to that city after his death.

The value of New Granada in the eyes of Spain lay in its being the chief emerald-producing centre of the world. The conquistadores of Peru had met with emeralds, and had gathered the impression that the real emerald was as hard as a diamond, a belief which led them to submit all the green gems they found to the test of hammering—with disastrous results to the stones. The loss occasioned by this procedure was intensified by the fact that for a long while it was found impossible to discover the mine from which the Incas had procured their emeralds. It was not until the discovery of New Granada that the source was revealed from which the stones had been obtained. The wealth of the land did not end here. From Popayan and Choco, provinces of the north-west, "placer" gold was obtainable in fairly large quantities by the simple expedient of washing. Thus, on the whole, New Granada promised the Spaniards ample supplies of the minerals which they coveted, and which they sought without intermission.

By reason of these things the Spanish Government, ever fearful of undue colonial strength, came to the conclusion that the Viceroyalty of Peru was quite powerful enough and wealthy enough without these newer possessions. In the year 1718 the limits of the Viceroyalty of New Granada were defined, rendering the tract of land which now forms the republics of Venezuela, Colombia, and Ecuador, quite independent of the Peruvian Viceroyalty; for, notwithstanding the fact that the Peruvian authority had every claim to the retention of the inland province of Quito, that also was assigned to the newer government.

The conquests of Quesada and Benalcazar had established centres of Spanish influence, but they had not gone far towards organizing the control of the country. Consequently, the establishment of a central authority at Bogota, independent of all but the Spanish Crown, was a decidedly advantageous move. As was the case elsewhere in the Continent, one of the chief evils requiring stringent treatment was that of smuggling. It was said, for instance, that in the early days half the great gold output of the colony was smuggled abroad by way of the Rivers Atrato and Hacha. The first Viceroy of New Granada caused forts to be erected on these and other streams, with a view to stopping the illegal traffic, and this measure mitigated the evil which nothing—in view of the half-settled state of the country—could quite subdue.

So little under control was the greater part of New Granada, that the good results of establishing a separate Viceroyalty only became apparent slowly. The conquest of the Chibchas, effected as it was with all the refinements of cruelty familiar to the conquistadores, had added fierce resentment to the natural racial antipathy already existing in the savage tribes of the country, and communication between provinces and towns was difficult in all cases, while in many it was altogether impracticable. There remained numerous bands of roving savages, fierce and predatory, to render travel unsafe; and though the efforts of the missionaries and others brought gentler ways to some in course of time, the whole of the colonial era was characterized by the presence of utterly fierce and vindictive bodies of aboriginals, while sufficient reprisals were indulged in by the Spaniards to keep alive the flame of hostility.



There is something in the transportation of the European to tropical climates and the control of an inferior race which, in certain circumstances, appears to loose and to intensify all the most cruel instincts and desires of which humanity is capable. In reckoning up the racial contests in New Granada, reader and historian alike must give the aboriginal his due. He was by no means the gentle savage such as he is frequently depicted. Indeed, many of his native customs were completely brutal. Nevertheless, it is necessary to debit against the invader numerous excesses and deeds of cruelty directed against the inferior or subject race. And since popular feeling, which ranges on the side of the oppressed to-day, was undoubtedly on the side of the oppressor during the earlier centuries, there can be little doubt that the ferocity of the Indians of New Granada, and their hesitating acceptance of the missionary's doctrine, were not without excuse.

Although the soil of New Granada offered endless possibilities to the colonists, the cost of transport and the difficulties attendant on this necessary commercial operation rendered agriculture in the interior of little importance as an industry. Each settlement grew sufficient for its own needs, and no more. Other factors in the slight use made of the rich soil were the natural indolence and the improvident habits of the people—habits not yet quite eradicated, since at the present day Venezuela, although it possesses some of the richest and best maize-growing lands in the world, still imports maize from the United States. From the creation of the Viceroyalty onward, attempts were made by the Spanish authorities to make the people industrious and thrifty, but these met with scant success.

The power and character of the aboriginal tribes may be estimated from the fact that, up to the end of the colonial period, Spanish authority in the immense territory of Quito was only exercised over a valley, formed by two spurs of the Andes, which reached some eighty leagues in length, with an average breadth of fifteen leagues. At the beginning of the eighteenth century a number of towns were established by Catholic missionaries on the Atlantic coast and on the rivers emptying into the Gulf of San Miguel; but the Indians destroyed them all, and remained so little dominated by the white race that a treaty of peace, concluded between Spaniards and native chiefs in 1790, contained a clause by which the Spaniards consented to abandon all their forts in Darien.

Beyond these there were other foes to be feared, quite as grim and even more dangerous. In 1670 the famous buccaneer, Captain Morgan, destroyed the castle of San Lorenzo at Chagres. This, of course, was in addition to his feat of capturing and burning the town of Panama. Ten years later another party of buccaneers captured the city of Santa Maria, in consequence of which the mines of Cana were closed in 1685.

Towards the end of the seventeenth century William Paterson established a Scottish colony on the Bay of Caledonia, at Puerto Escoces, but the venture scarcely proved a success. Ill-fate seems to have pursued most of the attempts at settlement in New Granada while the Spanish rule lasted. Yet the town of Santa Fe de Bogota flourished, and has continued to flourish to this day, so that no less an authority than Mr. R.B. Cunninghame Graham has described it as the chief literary centre south of Panama.

The town is set at the foot of the hills, facing a vast plain, and towards the end of the colonial period was represented as a city of 3,250 families—a population of upwards of 16,000. It was the centre of archiepiscopal authority, with jurisdiction over the Dioceses of Cartagena, Santa Marta, Panama, Caracas, and Quito. The route from Bogota to Europe lay by way of Cartagena, 300 miles distant from the capital.

Next in order of importance was Quito. The immense province was—and is at the present day—made up for the most part of dense jungle growth, alternating with marshy and desert stretches, with nomadic tribes inhabiting the more open areas. The city of Quito itself, set in perpetual spring, is considered one of the most beautiful spots in the world, almost its only drawbacks being the tremendous violence of the tropical storms to which it is subject, and occasional earthquake shocks.

The poverty of the mines of Quito freed the Indian inhabitants from mining labour, a form of industry which, under Spanish rule, depopulated so many native centres. In consequence of this Quito was reputed to be the most thickly populated province of South America. Various manufactures were pursued, and there were several towns with populations of over 10,000. The products of the land were exchanged for wine, oil, and other extraneous products, but so inefficient was the colonial administration that in 1790 Quito was one of the poorest of South American cities.

The article of chief value—for rubber had not then come into prominence—was the quinquina, or cinchona bark, at first considered peculiar to the territory of Loxa, but subsequently found to exist at Bogota, Riobamba, and many other parts of New Granada. It was first introduced to Europe by the Jesuits in 1639, and after its use had been established at the Spanish Court in 1640, it commanded a price of 100 crowns a pound. In these circumstances quinquina was, as a matter of course, subject to adulteration and substitution—practices which brought their own reward, since the quinine of Loxa, at one time considered of the highest quality, fell into disrepute when the gatherers in that province mixed with the real article the bark of other trees. Perpetually increasing demand led to more careful search for supplies, and the New Granada of the colonial era owed almost all its prosperity to the exports of the famed bark, for the output of minerals dwindled almost to vanishing point.

The Captain-Generalship of Venezuela was chiefly noteworthy for the Spanish settlements on the Orinoco, where over 4,000 Spaniards were contained in a dozen or so of villages rather indolently engaged in cattle raising. Together with tributary Indians, the settlers made up a total population of nearly 17,000, with over 70,000 head of cattle among them. Their trade was with the Dutch of Curacoa, who supplied goods in exchange for cattle, hides, and tobacco.

Caracas was then, as it is now, the head-quarters of the colony, which was separated from the Viceroyalty of New Granada in 1731. Three years previously—in 1728—some merchants of Guipiscoa obtained exclusive trading rights with Caracas, conditionally on their putting an end to the trade with Curacoa, and landing all cargoes at Cadiz. So successfully did they fulfil these conditions, and to such an extent did they increase the development of the colony, that it was deemed necessary to separate it from New Granada, and form an entirely new administration.



Yet the climate, or some obscure effect of the mingling and cross-breeding of conquerors and conquered, seems to have paralyzed human effort in these colonies of the northern coast. The land was something of an earthly paradise, and men were tempted to doze in it rather than to develop its resources. The cacao of Venezuela takes first place in the markets of the world, and has done so since its initial cultivation there; but not one-tenth of the area available for the growth of the bean has ever been utilized.

Caracas itself, earthquake shaken from time to time, was never—even in the most favourable periods of colonial rule—a flourishing city, but rather a centre of trade for scattered settlements. The town could claim little literary or educational movement to mark it as the capital of a potentially rich country. It was concerned, moreover, with scarcely a trace of the social and erudite development that characterized Bogota almost from the time of its foundation by Quesada. In so far as it had to be, Caracas existed, but there its ambition ended.

Except for some isolated centres, this was true of the whole of New Granada and Venezuela. Under Spanish rule the Viceroyalty and its dependent Captain-Generalship formed a great area into which Spaniards had come to hunt for mineral wealth, and while that wealth was obtainable there was a vast amount of activity. The aborigines, save for the Chibcha race, numbered among them some of the lowest types on the Continent, and where gold or emeralds or other valuable minerals were to be obtained these unfortunates were pressed into service, or rather into slavery.

When the minerals were exhausted, enterprise ceased. Sufficient cultivation for material needs—an easy matter in this productive land—was carried on, and in certain districts a definite amount of cacao growing was practised. For the rest, little was achieved, while farther south development was proceeding along the lines which have brought into being the great republics of to-day.

Then Venezuela gave to South America Simon Bolivar, and the storm of revolution which swept the Continent shook these northern dependencies into transient wakefulness and energy, until the great day of Boyaca dawned, and New Granada and Venezuela, as Spanish colonies, ceased to be. Fit or unfit as they might have been for self-government at the time, these peoples set out to make histories as independent States, and the Spanish colonial era, having lasted over two and a half centuries, came to an end.



CHAPTER XV

THE LAST DAYS OF EMPIRE

We have now arrived at the most critical of all the periods which Spanish South America has undergone in the course of its history, the decade or so which preceded the actual outbreak of the revolutionary wars. In order to arrive at a just appreciation of the situation it is necessary to realize that, although the policy of Spain had consistently demonstrated itself as discouraging towards learning and progress in every direction, to such an extent had the population of the colonies grown that this task of repression of the intelligence of a Continent had now become Herculean and altogether beyond the powers of the moderately energetic Spanish officials.

Despite every precaution, the colonists had succeeded in educating themselves up to a certain point; moreover, a number of them, flinging restrictions to the wind, had now begun to travel abroad, and had visited European centres. These sons of the New World had adapted themselves admirably to the conditions of Europe. They had been received by notable personages in England and France, who had been struck with the intelligence and ideals of the South Americans. These latter, for their part, had benefited from an exchange of views and from conversations concerning many subjects which were necessarily new to them. With an intercourse of this kind once in full swing it was inevitable that the regulations of Spain should automatically become obsolete and, in the eyes of the Americans, ridiculous.

In South America itself, nevertheless, the social gap between the Spaniard and the colonial continued entirely unbridged, and the contempt of the European officials for the South American born was as openly expressed in as gratuitous a fashion as ever. Indeed, as the opportunities for education broadened for the colonists, it would seem that their Spanish alleged brethren affected to despise them still more deeply—no doubt as a hint that no mere learning could alter the solid fact that their birth had occurred without the frontiers of European Spain.

The ban upon mixed marriages continued, and neither Viceroys, Governors, nor high officials might lead to the altar any woman born in America, however beautiful she might be, and however aristocratic her descent. A few minor privileges had been accorded to these oversea dwellers, it is true. A system of titles had been instituted throughout the colonies, for instance. By means of this it was hoped to pander to the vanity of the Americans, and to bring into being a new tie of interest which should cement the link between the Old and the New World which was proving so profitable to Spain.

As a matter of fact, none took the trouble to grant these titles in return for merit or service; it was necessary to buy them and to pay for them. Their grandeur was strictly local. Thus a Marquis or a Count in Lima or elsewhere in the Southern Continent would have been crassly unwise to leave the shores of South America, for once in Spain his title fell from him like a withered leaf; he became plain "Senor" and nothing beyond, for in Spain these colonial distinctions were a matter for jeers and mockery. What remained, therefore, for the poor local noble but to hasten back to the spot where his nobility held good! It was better to bask as a Marquis in the sunshine of the south than to be cold-shouldered as a plebeian in stately Castile.

Commercial and more material distinctions which favoured Spain as against her colonies remained equally marked. Bartolome Mitre has appropriately explained the situation which preceded the Revolution:

"The system of commercial monopoly which Spain adopted with respect to America immediately on the discovery of the Continent was as disastrous to the motherland as to the colonies. Employing a fallacious theory in order that the riches of the New World should pass to Spain, and that the latter country should serve as sole provider to her colonies, all the legislation was in the first instance directed to this end. Thus in America all industries which might provide competition with those of the Peninsula were forbidden. In order that this monopoly might be centralized, the port of Seville (and afterwards that of Cadiz) was made the sole port of departure and of entry for the vessels carrying the merchandise between the two continents. In order to render the working of this system doubly efficacious, no commercial communication was permitted between the colonies themselves, and the movements of all merchandise were made to converge at a single point. This scheme was assisted by the organization of the galleon fleets, which, guarded by warships, united themselves into a single convoy once or twice a year. Portobello (with Panama on the other side of the narrow isthmus) was the sole commercial harbour of South America. Merchandise introduced here was sent across the isthmus and down the Pacific coast, and eventually penetrated inland as far as Potosi. To this place the colonists of the south and of the Atlantic coast were obliged to come in order to effect their negotiations, and to supply themselves with necessities at a cost of from 500 to 600 per cent. above the original price. These absurd regulations, violating natural laws and the rules of good government, as well as the colonial monopoly, could only have emanated from the madness of an absolute power supported by the inertia of an enslaved people.... When Spain, enlightened by experience, wished to alter her disastrous system of exploitation, and actually did so with sufficient intelligence and generosity, it was already too late. She had lost her place as a motherland, and with it America as a colony. No bond, whether of force, affection, or of any other interest, linked the disinherited sons to the parent country. The separation was already a fact, and the independence of the South American colonies merely a question of time and opportunity."

What would have happened had the position of Spain herself in Europe remained unimpaired is idle to conjecture, but it is practically certain, with the new light which was now beginning to flood the new Continent, that the struggle for independence would have been postponed for a few years only.

The first herald of the great struggle for liberty which was to ensue was Francisco Miranda. The character of Miranda resembled not a little that of Bolivar. Both men were of exalted and enthusiastic temperaments; both were skilled in the arts of oratory and the management of men, and both possessed a visionary side. For each the situation in the New World formed an ample and, indeed, justifiable field.

Long before the first outbreak of hostilities in America Miranda had played the part of stormy petrel in other continents. Born in Venezuela, he had the advantage of a wider knowledge of the world than many of his compatriots; he had already taken an active part in the struggle between North America and Great Britain, and he had joined with Lafayette in the territories of the then British Colonies in order to assist the revolutionaries in their campaign.

No ill-will appears to have been borne him by the English for the part he played in this war; for some while afterwards we find him residing in England, and corresponding with many prominent men of the period. He is said to have gained the friendship of Fox, and it may have been due to his efforts, whether direct or indirect, that Canning gave such whole-hearted support to the South American cause. As has already been said, it was largely due to Miranda's persuasions and assertions—somewhat premature and optimistic though these eventually proved themselves—that the various British expeditions sailed for the River Plate. The result was disastrous in every respect save that it lent to the colonials a new confidence in their own powers. In any case Miranda's good faith and honour were unquestionable, although at a later period he appears to have fallen somewhat under the suspicion of his fellow-patriots.

It was not long before the efforts of Miranda began to be seconded by those of other distinguished and high-spirited South Americans. Simon Bolivar, the liberator himself, accompanied by a tutor, was sent by his parents to gain an intimate knowledge of Europe and of the polite arts of the Old Continent. Here he had plunged himself into Latin classics and the French philosophy, and his remarkable personality is said to have created no small impression upon those with whom he came into contact. Venezuela has every right to be proud of the fact that, although the seeds of liberty had already been sown throughout the Continent, and especially in the River Plate Provinces, they first sprouted into material activity in Venezuela, for Bolivar, having been born at Caracas, could claim Miranda as a fellow-countryman, or rather as a neighbour, since theoretically, in the colonial days, all South Americans were fellow-countrymen.

It is certain that during this early European tour of Bolivar's he had already become strongly imbued with the idea of freeing his country and Continent from the rule of Spain. At one period of his travels he was at Rome, and he is said to have chosen the holy city as the spot in which to swear a solemn oath to take his share in the liberation of his native land—an oath which, as history proves, he fulfilled in generous measure, since the first desperate fights in the north of the Continent were conducted on the patriot side under his auspices and those of Miranda.

In the face of all the trials and injustices which they had undergone, it is important to remember that the temperament of the South Americans was one which urged them strongly to remain loyal to the Mother Country. Although it had now become evident that a rupture was inevitable, the colonists viewed the snapping of the ties which bound them to Spain with reluctance and unease. As fate would have it, it was the situation in Europe which arose to solve the difficulty, and to remove the last doubt from the breasts of the South American patriots. The news of catastrophe after catastrophe filtered slowly through from the peninsula to the colonies. The Napoleonic armies had overrun the country; the Corsican's talons were now fixed deeply in its soil, and the rightful Sovereign had abdicated while the throne was being seized upon by Joseph Buonaparte. Then came the news of a Spanish junta, formed as a last resource to organize a defence of the harassed country; after this followed tidings of dissensions among the numbers of these defenders themselves, of the formation of other juntas, and, in fact, of the prevalence of complete desolation and catastrophe and of the wildest confusion.

In the midst of the reports and rumours, contradictions and confirmations which followed one another at as great a pace as the methods of communication of the period would allow, there came at last definite proofs of the chaos which reigned in Spain. An envoy arrived in Buenos Aires, sent by Napoleon in his capacity of Lord of Spain, in order to announce the fact to the colonies, and to open up negotiations for future transactions. Almost simultaneously arrived another envoy—a special messenger this, sent from the Junta of Seville, who claimed that Spain still belonged to the Spaniards, and that the Junta of Seville represented Spain.



In one direction the colonial authorities were enabled to act without hesitation. Napoleon's envoy was sent packing back in haste to where he had come from! The messenger from the junta, on the other hand, was received with every consideration; but his presence failed to dispel the doubts from the minds of the South Americans. For the downfall of Spain was now patent to all, as well as her impotence, not only to maintain communication with her colonies, but to move hand or foot to free herself from the grasp of the French.

The situation as it now presented itself would have been sufficiently bewildering even in the case of colonies who had enjoyed fair treatment on the part of the Madre Patria. Amid the chaos which prevailed in Europe it was practically impossible to discover in whose hands the actual authority lay in Spain. The Spanish King, his rival Prince, Joseph Buonaparte, the Junta of Seville—all these reiterated their claims to the supreme authority. The storm of contradictions and disclaimers ended by proving clearly to the colonists what was actually the case. In Spain no single supreme authority existed. This in consequence lay with themselves.

From the moment that this became clear the passive submission to the local royal garrisons and to the powers of Spain set above them began to give way to active protests. In ordinary circumstances these would probably have continued for some while, and efforts would have been made to avoid the actual resort to arms. So fiercely, however, were the first claims to their rights on the parts of the colonists resented and opposed by the Spanish officials that the South Americans, disgusted and embittered, threw caution to the wind, drew the sword in turn, and met force by force, while the flare of battle burst out from the north to the south of the great Continent.



CHAPTER XVI

THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE—I

The analogy between the first invasions of South America by the conquistadores and the campaign of liberation undertaken by the South Americans of a later age is curious to remark. The conquistadores undertook three separate invasions: the first in the north; the second in Peru, and subsequently Chile; the third in the Provinces of the River Plate. In the struggle of the South Americans against the Spanish forces, the field of war was divided into precisely the same categories.

Bolivar, Sucre, Miranda, and their colleagues blew up the flames of strife and kept them alive in the north; Belgrano, San Martin, Guemes, and their comrades maintained the fight in the River Plate Provinces; while the Chilean O'Higgins and his companions accompanied the great San Martin in his march from Argentina westwards over the Andes to Chile. From there, having freed the province, the liberating army turned northwards into Peru, eventually to fuse with the stream of patriot forces which was flowing down from the north with the same purpose in view.

Since both Miranda and Bolivar had played such important parts before the outbreak of the revolution, it will be well to deal first of all with the progress of the wars in the north. It was in Caracas that the plans and projects of independence were matured. When the outbreak in the south took place, Caracas girded up its loins for war, and Bolivar and Miranda took the field beneath the banner of independence. In no place were the fortunes of war more varied than in the north, and the campaign was destined to last fourteen years before the Spanish power in the old kingdom of New Granada was finally broken.

It is impossible here to go into the full details of the campaigns. In the first place, the patriots, although they fought desperately, ill-armed and undisciplined as they were, suffered numerous reverses from the Spanish veterans who garrisoned the northern districts. More than once the flames of revolution seemed to all practical purposes extinguished, and Bolivar and his lieutenants, fugitives from the field of strife, were obliged to continue their plans in other lands, among these places of refuge being some of the British West Indian Islands.

Even here the patriots were by no means safe from the vengeance of Spain. Various attempts were made to assassinate Bolivar. On one occasion a dastardly endeavour of the kind was within an ace of being successful. Bolivar had sailed to Jamaica in order to obtain supplies for the patriot forces. His presence in the island was noted, and some Spaniards bribed a negro to enter the house where he was staying and to slay him as he lay asleep at night.

The murderous black succeeded in penetrating to the room where the General usually slept. A figure lay upon the bed, and this the assassin stabbed to the heart; but it was not that of the Liberator. It was his secretary, who had died in his stead.

Bolivar, however, was not a man to be deterred from his plans by attempts such as these. He was possessed of a high courage, and was by no means averse to distinguish himself on the battle-field from the rest in the matter of costume. At Boyaca, for instance, he donned a jacket and pantaloons of the most brilliant scarlet and gold, thus attracting an amount of attention on the part of the enemy which was sufficiently perilous in itself.

The British did not long delay in taking an active interest in the struggle for independence, and very soon volunteers came flocking to the assistance of these northern districts of South America. Two separate British legions fought for Bolivar. One had been raised in England, and was commanded by General English; the other, formed in Ireland, was led by General Devereux. Some corps of native Indian troops, it may be remarked, were officered by the British, and there was, moreover, in the patriot service a battalion of rifles composed entirely of British and German troops.

At first it appears that a marked spirit of distrust manifested itself between the native patriots and the British; but very soon a mutual admiration cemented a friendship between the two races. The English volunteers found it difficult to display their true mettle in the early days of the war. They suffered very severely on their first landing, since they were unaccustomed to the climate, and found themselves unable to accomplish the long marches made by the patriots. In a short while, however, they grew used to the country and its ways, and then their feats, instead of meeting with a certain amount of derision, provoked the enthusiastic admiration of the Columbians.

It is certain that the campaign was no kid-glove one. Some of the marches were attended by almost incredible hardships and sufferings. It was, for instance, necessary in some districts to ford rivers in which the perai fish abounded. This fierce little creature, as is well known, is capable of tearing off a formidable mouthful of human flesh at a single bite, and this it never fails to do when the opportunity offers. Many severe wounds were caused among the British ranks by these ferocious fish, and it may be imagined that in the first instance experiences of the kind were as startling as they were disconcerting.

General Paez was one of the chief heroes of the north. His career was to the full as adventurous as that of any other revolutionary leader. He enlisted in the first place as a common soldier in the militia of Barinos, and was soon after captured by the Spanish forces. His execution, together with that of all the other prisoners, was ordered, and would have taken place on the following day but for some circumstances which enabled him to give his captors the slip.

The manner of his release was afterwards frequently recalled with no little awe by the superstitious. At eleven o'clock at night the alarm was given that the Royalist forces were about to be attacked by the patriots, whose army had been seen advancing. The Spaniards retreated in a panic, and Paez and his fellow-prisoners effected their escape. The following morning, when the Royalists had recovered from their alarm, they could find no enemy within a radius of fifty miles. This incident was put down by the populace to the intervention in his favour on the part of the host of departed spirits known as the "ejercito de las animas."

Paez was extremely popular among his men, the hardy Llaneros of the northern plains, born horsemen and fighters, corresponding in many respects with the famous Gauchos of the south. Paez himself was a magnificent horseman, and wielded the lance, the characteristic weapon of the Llaneros, to perfection. He was thus doubly beloved of his troops, since it was these qualities, of course, which appealed to them more than the military strategy of which he gave such marked evidence. On one occasion, when accompanied by very few of his own troops, Paez rode up to a powerful body of Royalist cavalry. When quite close to the enemy his men turned their horses as though in sudden terror, and galloped away, hotly pursued by the Royalist horsemen. When Paez considered that he had drawn these sufficiently far from their camp, he turned upon them and cut them up in detail.

His most extraordinary feat, however, was the capture of some Spanish gunboats on the River Apure by means of his Llanero cavalry. This is an account of the feat as given by an eye-witness who was attached to the British Legion:

"Bolivar stood on the shore gazing at these [the gunboats] in despair, and continued disconsolately parading in front of them, when Paez, who had been on the look out, rode up and inquired the cause of his disquietude. His Excellency observed: 'I would give the world to have possession of the Spanish flotilla, for without it I can never cross the river, and the troops are unable to march.' 'But it shall be yours in an hour,' replied Paez. 'It is impossible,' said Bolivar; 'and the men must all perish.' 'Leave that to me,' rejoined Paez, and galloped off. In a few minutes he returned, bringing up his guard of honour, consisting of 300 lancers selected from the main body of the Llaneros for their proved bravery and strength, and, leading them to the bank, thus addressed them: 'We must have these flecheres or die. Let those follow Tio who please' ('Tio,' or 'uncle,' was the popular name by which Paez was known to his men), and at the same time, spurring his horse, pushed into the river and swam towards the flotilla. The guard followed him with their lances in hand, now encouraging their horses to bear up against the current by swimming by their sides and patting their necks, and then shouting to scare away the alligators, of which there were hundreds in the river, until they reached the boats, when, mounting their horses, they sprang from their backs on board them, headed by their leader, and, to the astonishment of those who beheld them from the shore, captured every one of them. To English officers it may appear inconceivable that a body of cavalry, with no other arms than their lances, and no other mode of conveyance across a rapid river than their horses, should attack and take a fleet of gunboats amidst shoals of alligators; but, strange as it may seem, it was actually accomplished, and there are many officers now in England who can testify to the truth of it."

It will be evident from exploits such as these that the Venezuelans were fortunate in their leaders.

After a while Simon Bolivar, the Liberator, began to see that the materialization of his lifelong ideal was now no longer a matter of the dim distant future. The struggle had been severe, and the fortunes of war had proved fickle at the beginning. At one period it had seemed that even Nature had fought against the South American cause. At Barquisimeto an earthquake had shattered the barracks of the soldiers of the Independence, and many hundreds of troops were crushed beneath the ruins.

The moral as well as the material effect of this disaster was serious in the extreme. Miranda, moreover, although able, had proved himself an unfortunate General. In the end he was captured by the Spaniards, and died in captivity in Cadiz. Even when the tide of battle had definitely turned against the Spaniards, their desperate straits induced them to desperate measures, and the fortitude of the patriots continued to be put severely to the test. One of the most dreaded Spanish moves, for instance, was the freeing of the slaves and the arming of these against their late colonial masters.

So embittered became the struggle that prisoners were put to death on both sides, and many terrible massacres ensued in consequence. A number of other prominent patriot leaders now came forward to assist Bolivar and his comrades, among these being Narino, who proved himself victorious in many fights against the Royalists. At length, in 1821, Bolivar and Paez effected a junction of their forces, and marched to meet the Spanish army. On June 24 the Battle of Carabobo was fought, which resulted in the complete defeat of the Royalist troops.



This Battle of Carabobo was one which had far-reaching effects in Venezuela. In preparation for this fight Bolivar's army was formed in three divisions. The first, commanded by General Paez, contained the Cazadores Britannicus, or British Light Infantry, numbering 800 men, and 100 of the Irish Legion. This division, with the local troops, was of 3,100 men. The second, commanded by Cadeno, consisted of 1,800; and the third, led by Ambrosio Plaza, was composed of the Rifles, a regiment officered by Englishmen, and other regiments, in all 2,500 men.

The army had suffered terrible privations, and, in crossing the River Aparito some time before the battle, many men, including a number of Englishmen, had actually perished from the attacks of that terrible fish, the perai. Mention has already been made of this fish, which, no bigger than a perch, is provided with teeth which will tear the flesh from the bones in a few seconds. It was from the attacks of flocks of these that the unfortunate men had succumbed.

Just before the battle Bolivar rode along the front of his army, and it is said that the English gave him three "hurrahs" that were heard a mile off. After this, nevertheless, the attack was postponed until the next day, and during the interval the rain came down in tropical sheets. The Spaniards fought with extreme gallantry, and the battle was waged in the most determined fashion on both sides before victory definitely inclined to the patriot forces. The English took a very prominent share in this battle, losing no less than 600 out of 900 men.

Bolivar had now all but fulfilled the oath he had sworn years before in Rome. The Battle of Carabobo proved one of the most decisive of the campaign. Its conclusion marked the end of the Spanish occupation of the north. Bolivar had now cleared his own country of the Spaniards, and was free to turn his attention to Peru.