_Jose de San Martin, a strong and silent man, whose character and
achievements have been little known or appreciated outside his own
country ... comes nearer than any one else to being the George
Washington of Spanish America._
LORD BRYCE
San Martin, the great Liberator, loved men of audacity and courage.
Besides, he was just and compassionate ... courteous to gentle and
simple alike ... generous and brave San Martin.
JOSEPH CONRAD
_The white-souled San Martin who was without fear and almost
without reproach._
WILLIAM SPENCE ROBERTSON
_The moral grandeur of San Martin consists in this: that nothing is
known of the secret ambitions of his life; that he was in
everything disinterested; that he confined himself strictly to his
mission; and that he died in silence, showing neither weakness,
pride, nor bitterness at seeing his work triumphant and his part in
it forgotten._
BARTOLOME MITRE
SAN MARTIN was born in Spanish America, February 25, 1778
Became the Liberator of Argentina, 1812
Was the Hannibal of the Andes, 1817
He and O’Higgins liberated Chile, 1817-20
San Martin resigned after the meeting with Bolivar, 1822
In voluntary exile, he died at the age of 72, August 17, 1850
His body was brought in state to Argentina, 1880
He is called Protector of Peru
His name is pronounced--Hosay de San Marteen
THE BOY SOLDIER
This boy soldier, who became a great general and American Patriot, was
born in the Indian village of Yapeyu, in the district of Misiones, which
is now a part of Argentina.
Misiones is a land of thousands of bright butterflies and brilliant
flowers, of plantations and wide forests. In it are abandoned groves of
wild oranges and lemons, once belonging to the Jesuit Missions, that
gave the name of Misiones to the region.
Though he was born among Indians, the boy soldier was not an Indian. He
was of pure Spanish blood. His father was an officer of the Spanish
Crown, and was Governor of Misiones. Spain ruled all Spanish America in
those days.
The boy soldier’s name was Jose de San Martin. Jose, is Spanish for
Joseph.
It was an exciting life for Jose, with Indian boys to show him how to
shoot wild game, and how to fish in the Uruguay River. Then, there were
his father’s soldiers to tell him about military life.
Before Jose was eight years old, his father was transferred, and the boy
was sent overseas to Spain to attend school in Madrid.
But such an active American boy, accustomed to Indians and frontier
life, could not stay long contented in a school in old Madrid. Besides,
he had soldiers’ blood in his veins. He grew restless. He was only
eleven; but he petitioned the Spanish Government to be allowed to enlist
in the army.
His petition was granted, and he became a boy soldier.
His uniform was white and blue. His first campaign was in Africa. His
first battle was with the Moors.
During the next few years he served so gallantly, that at sixteen he was
made a lieutenant. So he became a boy officer.
THE PATRIOT WHO KEPT FAITH
In romantic Spain, there was everything to entice young San Martin to
forget his native land so far away, and the little Indian village on the
Uruguay.
The crimson and gold banners of Spain waved over victorious
battle-fields, the drums beat triumphantly, the trumpets sounded to the
charge. There was glamour of combat with Moors and other brave enemies.
There were romances of knights and ladies, and legends of Aragon,
Castile, and the Alhambra. There were serenades, _fandangos_, and
feasts. While in the quaint Spanish towns, maidens with dark witching
eyes half hidden by mantillas, peeped through the latticed casements.
And they must have peeped out joyously whenever the stalwart, handsome,
young San Martin went by.
But he never forgot his native land.
As the years passed, he kept deep in his mind the memories of his
childhood. He heard that some of his countrymen in Argentina had formed
a Patriot Army, and were trying to gain their independence from Spanish
rule. He learned of their unsuccessful attempts and of their sufferings.
San Martin heard, too, that the English Colonies of North America had
cast off the rule of their mother-country, England, and had established
a free government of the People under a Constitution.
Meanwhile, Napoleon Bonaparte was throwing Europe into confusion,
pulling down Kings from their thrones, and setting up whomsoever he
wished in their stead. He forced the King of Spain to abdicate, and
proclaimed his own brother Joseph Bonaparte, King of Spain.
Now the Spanish-American Colonies were the property of the _Kings of
Spain_, “the most precious jewel in their crown.” Some of the Colonists
had remained loyal, but when they heard how their King had weakly
abdicated many of them, in disgust, went over to the Patriots’ side.
It was then that San Martin, although he had opportunities for rising
much higher in the Spanish Army, decided to return to Argentina.
He landed on Argentine soil, March 9, 1812.
As a little boy, he had left Argentina. Now he was returned as a man,
offering her his sword, his life, his all. “Forsaking my fortunes and my
hopes,” said San Martin later, “I desired only to sacrifice everything
to promote the Liberty of my native land. I arrived at Buenos Aires in
the beginning of 1812--thenceforward I consecrated myself to the cause
of Spanish America.”
WHEN SAN MARTIN CAME
To-day, the Republic of Argentina is an immense rich land. It stretches
from the Atlantic Coast westward nearly to the Pacific. Its broad
_pampas_, or plains, roll almost from the very doors of the beautiful
city of Buenos Aires to the foothills of the Andes Mountains. The mighty
frozen peaks of the Andes form a wall between the two sister Republics,
Argentina and Chile.
Though the breadth of Argentina is so great, its length is even more
tremendous. North to South, the Republic stretches from tropic regions
of intense heat to the far distant Patagonian land with its
sheep-ranches, salt-licks, and arid plains, and still farther southward
the Republic stretches toward the Antartic Circle.
The _pampas_ are like our prairies. On them herds of cattle graze; and
the _gauchos_ Argentine cowboys, round up the cattle on the wealthy
_estancias_ or ranches. On many of these ranches, grow wide acres of the
finest wheat and of other grains.
And through the city of Buenos Aires, which has been called the “Paris
of America,” pass shipments of beef and wheat to help feed the world. In
the city’s roadstead, are ships from many countries waiting to carry
away not only beef and grain, but hides, sugar, and other Argentine
produce, as well as Patagonian mutton and wool.
There are flourishing towns and cities in Argentina, and great wealth.
Buenos Aires alone has about two million inhabitants. And to Buenos
Aires come throngs of immigrants from Europe and Asia, seeking their
fortunes in Argentina; just as immigrants land in the City of New York,
to find their fortunes in our country.
An immense and rich land is the Republic of Argentina to-day; and her
native citizens are one hundred per cent American!
* * * * *
But when San Martin stepped upon Argentine soil over a hundred years
ago, there was no great wealthy Republic. There were only some poor
Provinces, struggling with Spain for their Liberty. Buenos Aires was
but a Colonial town on the bank of the River of Silver.
There was no forest of foreign ships in the roadstead; for Spain had
forbidden trading with any land except herself. There were no great
_estancias_ helping to feed the world. The whole country was groaning
under oppression. Colonists, Indians, and _gauchos_, were in arms to
defend her.
The land was swarming with Spanish soldiers and Royalists. The patriot
Army was small, scattered, and poorly equipped, and undisciplined. San
Martin, with all his military knowledge, came as a Liberator to his
Country.
The Patriot Government appointed him to train soldiers and organize the
army. He opened a military school. To it thronged the _gauchos_, those
daring riders of the plains, also Creoles as the Colonists of pure
Spanish blood were called, and Indians, and even slaves, to whom San
Martin had promised their freedom.
The Patriots wore cockades of white and sky-blue, the Argentine colours.
In time, San Martin had mobilized a well-disciplined army of earnest
courageous men.
At San Lorenzo, San Martin won a famous victory. The enemy retreated in
headlong flight, leaving behind banner, guns, and muskets. After the
battle, San Martin sent supplies to the enemy for the wounded, and
exchanged prisoners with them.
This victory put heart into the entire Patriot Army, and assured the
final success of the Patriot cause.
ARGENTINA’S INDEPENDENCE DAY
_July 9, 1816_
The Birthday of the Argentine Republic was really May 25, 1810, before
San Martin came to Argentina. For on that day a group of patriotic
citizens of Buenos Aires braved the anger of Spain, set up a People’s
Government, and convened the first Colonial Assembly in Argentina.
But on July 9, 1816, while San Martin’s soldiers were harassing the
Spaniards, there assembled at the city of Tucuman, delegates from a
number of the Provinces, who declared the “Independence of the United
Provinces of the River of Silver (or Rio de la Plata).” The name
“Argentine Republic” was not given the Argentine Union until some years
later.
Thus, Argentina, while Spain was yet on her soil, bravely declared her
Independence.
A GREAT IDEA
Gold, jewels, spices, and costly woods, in fact much of the stupendous
wealth of Spanish America, flowed yearly into Lima, “the City of the
Kings” in Peru, on the Pacific, the city founded by Pizarro the
gold-hunter.
Triumphantly, Lima lifted the picturesque towers and domes of her
palaces, convents, monasteries, and religious schools, and of her
ancient cathedral, for Lima ruled not only the Pacific coast of Spanish
America, but the whole of Spanish America as well. She was the centre of
Spain’s power, strength, religion, and wealth in the New World. There,
with pomp and pageant, lived the most influential of the Spanish
Viceroys, whose word was law. From Lima went forth Spain’s armies to
crush the Patriots in Argentina and Chile.
So long as Spain should hold Lima, the Patriot cause would be hopeless.
On the other hand, if Lima might be taken by the Patriots, then the
stronghold of Spanish tyranny would be destroyed.
So thought San Martin; and he began to lay plans to capture Lima,
although the city was seemingly inaccessible and lay beyond the Andes
Mountains far to the northwest on the Pacific Coast.
The Argentine Government transferred San Martin to the Province of Cuyo,
and made him its Governor. There in the lovely city of Mendoza, the city
of vineyards, at the very foot of the Andes, he set about raising
revenues, and training and equipping an army--a small but strong army of
devoted men.
But how to reach Lima? questioned San Martin to himself. Any attempt to
lead the army northward to Upper Peru, and over the Andes to Lima, was
sure to bring down upon the small body of Patriots, Spain’s seasoned
troops who held Upper Peru and a part of Argentina.
The only way, thought San Martin, is to cross the Andes, drive the
Spaniards _out of Chile_, then joining our forces with those of the
Chilean Patriots, go by sea to Lima, and take her from Spain. Peru will
yield, and our continent will be free!
THE MIGHTY ANDES
“What spoils my sleep, is not the strength of the enemy, but how to pass
those immense mountains,” said San Martin, as from Mendoza he gazed upon
the snow-clad summits of the mighty Andes, whose giant wall separated
the wide plains of Argentina from the sunny smiling valleys of Chile on
the Pacific.
Terrible seemed the Andes stretching from North to South like an
impassable barrier. Near Mendoza, the barren foothills resembled waves
of a petrified sea. Above them soared the central lofty mountain-ranges
of conical, sharply defined peaks white with everlasting snow. Over the
precipices, wheeled the condors at dizzy height. And down the chasm-rent
sides of the mountains, rushed dark torrents of melted snow.
San Martin knew of the rugged defiles, the narrow paths winding along
the edges of precipices, the ice-choked passages, the gloomy gorges, and
the many unbridged torrents to be crossed, torrents tossing rocks about
like straws.
Nevertheless, he determined to lead his Army across the Andes, rescue
Chile, and go by sea to Lima.
So without haste, he carefully laid his plans in every detail. He spent
two years in raising the Army of the Andes and equipping it. He kept his
project of crossing into Chile, secret, lest the enemy should hear of it
and guard the mountain-passes.
The enthusiastic and loyal men of Mendoza and of the whole Province of
Cuyo, helped him with money and labour. Many of them enlisted. Even the
children wanted to help; so San Martin, to keep up their Patriotism,
formed them into little regiments and let them drill and carry banners.
Their mothers, led by San Martin’s wife, a lovely Argentine lady, took
off their jewels and sold them. If it had not been for the cheerful
spirit of coöperation among the folk of Cuyo, San Martin could not have
mobilized his men. For this reason, Mendoza is called “The Nest of the
Argentine Eagle.”
_Bartolome Mitre_ (_Retold_)
THE REAL SAN MARTIN
And what was General San Martin like?
Why did the good folk of Mendoza love him and hasten to do all that he
asked?
Why did his troops cheerfully submit to terrible privations, and
willingly plunge into danger and death if San Martin was with them?
Why, to-day, do the boys and girls of Argentina wish to be like their
great and beloved hero--San Martin?
First, because San Martin never thought of himself. The folk of Mendoza
offered him a handsome house to live in. He quietly refused it. He gave
up to the cause half of his salary as Governor. He accepted the rank of
general with the understanding that he might lay it down as soon as
Argentina was free. He steadfastly refused all other promotions from his
Government. He sent his wife back to Buenos Aires, so that he might live
more simply.
He lived frugally, ate little, and worked hard. And what did he look
like, this General so strong yet so simple? He wore the plain uniform of
the Mounted Grenadiers, with the white and sky-blue cockade in his hat.
He was fine-looking, tall, and muscular. His complexion was olive, his
jaw strong, and his lips firm, his black hair thick. His large, jet
black eyes looked out from under bushy eyebrows; eyes now kindly and
humorous, now piercingly observant. But when he met treachery or
cowardice those eyes could frown terribly, and when he faced dangers or
great emergencies, they expressed a fiery determined spirit.
A man nobly unselfish, gentle yet forceful, modest, patient, whimsically
humorous at times, but always of few words was San Martin. Even
strangers who met him were filled with respect and affection for him.
His motto was:--
_Thou shall be what thou oughtest to be,
Or thou shall be nothing._
THE FIGHTING ENGINEER OF THE ANDES
Among the Patriots of Mendoza was a begging Friar, named Luis Beltran.
He had fought in Chile against the Spaniards. He had returned across the
Andes to Mendoza with a kit of tools on his back.
He was a clever fellow, a mathematician, a chemist, an artilleryman, a
maker of watches and fireworks, a carpenter, an architect, a blacksmith,
a draughtsman, a cobbler, and a physician. He was strong and rugged. San
Martin made him chaplain. But on learning of his extraordinary gifts, he
appointed him to establish an arsenal.
Soon Friar Beltran had three hundred workmen under him, all of whom he
taught. He cast cannon, shot, and shell, melting down church-bells when
his metal gave out. He made limbers for the guns, saddles for the
cavalry, knapsacks, shoes, and other equipment for the soldiers. He
forged horseshoes and bayonets and repaired damaged muskets.
If he stopped to rest at all, he drew designs on the walls of his grimy
workshop, for special caissons and wagons to transport army-supplies
over the steep passes of the Andes.
Then, he took off his frock, put on the uniform of a lieutenant of the
artillery, and became the fighting engineer of the Army of the Andes.
_Bartolome Mitre_ (_Retold_)
THE HANNIBAL OF THE ANDES
I
Everything was ready.
Friar Beltran’s forges, blazing night and day, had turned out thirty
thousand horseshoes. His arsenal had produced bullets by the hundreds of
thousands. Friar Beltran’s carriages for artillery, specially designed
for mountain-passes, stood waiting. The guns themselves were to be
carried on the backs of mules. Slings had been prepared to hoist the
mules over dangerous places; also sleds of rawhide in which the guns
might be hauled up inclines too steep for heavily laden mules to climb.
The women of Mendoza, led by Bernardo O’Higgins’s mother and sister who
were exiles from Chile, had prepared a store of bandages and medicines,
and had made uniforms for the soldiers.
All was ready--tents, provisions, herds of cattle, saddles, arms,
clothes, water-bottles, cables and anchors for a portable bridge,
muleteers and artisans. Nothing was overlooked by the vigilant San
Martin.
Silent and reserved, he inspected everything. For he knew too well that
the mountains over which he was about to lead his Army, were more lofty
and dangerous than the famous Alps. He planned to send the Army through
two passes, the highest of which was nearly 13,000 feet above sea-level.
The troops would be long on the way, he knew, and the dangers would be
terrific.
In January 1817--January is summertime in Argentina--the good folk of
Mendoza gathered to say farewell to the Army that they had helped to
mobilize, and to which so many of their own men belonged, some of whom
they should never see again.
The Army broke up its cantonments, and began its march in three
divisions, carrying the new flag of the Republic. The women of Mendoza
had made it. It was white and sky-blue, like San Martin’s first uniform
when he was a boy soldier, while on it was emblazoned the face of the
Rising Sun.
So with provisions for many days, with armament, munitions, baggage, and
great herds of cattle for food, the Army followed the trails that led
through the barren foothills toward the high Andes.
The lofty central ranges of the gloomy mountains frowned down upon the
soldiers, while the dark passes seemed yawning pitilessly to devour
them. But nothing daunted, they courageously continued to climb the
foothills toward the mountains.
Bernardo O’Higgins, the Chilean Patriot, led one of the divisions; for
Chile had now joined forces with Argentina against Spain.
Higher and higher the Army climbed, scouts clearing the way before it,
until it began to enter the passes of the Cordilleras. Then San Martin,
who was still tarrying at Mendoza, wrote to a friend:--
“This afternoon I leave to join the Army. God grant me success in this
great enterprise!”
Then saying good-bye to the folk of Mendoza, by whom he was so much
beloved, he hastened to join one of the divisions.
Day after day, the troops followed the steep ascents and descents,
walking close to roaring torrents, crossing craggy peaks and narrow
chasms, skirting edges of precipices, wading through snow, and hauling
heavy guns and supplies up steep inclines.
Great mountain-ridges, with cañons between, ran north and south, beside
numerous lesser ridges; all these had to be crossed to reach Chile. The
intense cold on the summits, killed many of the soldiers. While the
rarefied air caused numbers to drop down and die from heart failure and
exhaustion. Of the nine thousand two hundred and eighty-one mules and
the sixteen hundred horses Friar Beltran had in charge, over half
perished.
The soldiers, surrounded by the mountain peaks that seemed to touch the
sky with their snow-bound jagged tops, were depressed by the awful
loneliness. Now and then, a condor wheeled above them. Strange noises,
made by gusts of wind in the cañons, sounded like the wails of lost
souls. Every step the soldiers took, convinced them that should they be
attacked, it would be impossible to retreat. Such were some of the
terrible hardships uncomplainingly suffered by the Army of the Andes.
But the soldiers laughed at despair; a spirit of union and comradeship
upheld them. Each corps tried to outdo the others in cheerful endurance.
At last, after more than three weeks, the Army began to defile from the
passes into Chile. Then San Martin and O’Higgins, in the great battle of
Chacabuco and later at Maipu, won the victory and drove the Spanish Army
from Chile.
_General Miller and Bartolome Mitre_ (_Retold_)
II
Thus was accomplished one of the most heroic military feats in history.
“The passage of the Andes by the Army of San Martin,” says Lord Bryce,
“has been pronounced by military historians of authority to have been
one of the most remarkable operations ever accomplished in mountain
warfare. The forces which he led were no doubt small compared ... to
those which Hannibal and Napoleon carried across the Alps. But ... the
passes to be crossed were much higher.”
Lord Bryce also says that San Martin comes nearer than any one else to
being “the George Washington of Spanish America.”
And San Martin has been called, “the Hannibal of the Andes.”
NOT FOR HIMSELF
Honours were showered on San Martin after the battle of Chacabuco. News
of his successful crossing of the Andes and of his victory, reached
Buenos Aires. All day long shouts sounded through the streets. Cannon
roared from the fort and from the squadron in the roadstead. San
Martin’s portrait was hung where all could see it, draped in flags
captured from the enemy.
The Argentine Government decreed a sword and badge for San Martin, and
struck medals for his soldiers. They voted a pension of six hundred
dollars a year for his little daughter, Maria Mercedes. They also sent
him a commission as Brigadier-General, the highest rank in the Argentine
service.
San Martin accepted the pension for his little daughter, and laid the
money aside for her education. But he refused the commission, asking
only for more arms, money, and men, to carry on the campaign.
Meanwhile, the grateful Chilean Government offered to make him ruler of
all Chile. But this honour, too, he declined. So his friend and
companion-at-arms, Bernardo O’Higgins, in his stead, was elected Supreme
Ruler of the country.
COCHRANE, EL DIABLO
“On to Lima! On to Lima!” was now the cry of the Argentine and Chilean
soldiers. “Let us drive out the Spaniards! Let us expel them from
Spanish America for ever!”
“On to Lima by sea,” was San Martin’s decision. Meanwhile, O’Higgins was
busy equipping a fleet to carry the troops to Peru.
There was, at that time, in England a dauntless, dashing naval-officer,
Lord Thomas Cochrane, who was famous for his extraordinary courage and
adventures. He gladly accepted the invitation of San Martin and
O’Higgins, to become Admiral of the Chilean Navy. And because excitement
and danger were as meat and drink to him, he hastened to Chile.
He was welcomed with great rejoicings. His beautiful young wife became
one of the belles of Santiago. English, Irish, and American officers,
drawn by the fame of Lord Cochrane’s daring exploits, arrived in numbers
offering their swords to Chile to help win her Freedom.
Then, with the single-star Flag of Chile nailed to his mastheads,
Admiral Cochrane swept the Pacific clean of Spanish war-vessels. And so
fiery were his attacks, that the Spaniards nicknamed him, “_El Diablo_.”
“For the very Devil himself, he is,” said they.
OUR BROTHERS, YE SHALL BE FREE!
“The Peruvians are our brothers,” proclaimed San Martin to his soldiers.
“Remember that you are come not to conquer but to liberate a People!” he
proclaimed as soon as the Liberating Army was landed in Peru. For Lord
Cochrane had brought them safely thither aboard the Chilean fleet.
Then to the Peruvians, San Martin sent broadcast a proclamation:--