could not forget Maria. Then he met Rodriguez, his old tutor, who had
been banished from Venezuela.
This Rodriguez was a strange, rough fellow, with many wild ideas and
some good ones too. From childhood, Bolivar had confided all his sorrows
and joys to him. And, now, as a young man, he was led by his advice.
Rodriguez saw that Bolivar was wasted and consumptive. He persuaded him
to go on a walking trip. Knapsack on shoulder, the two set off for
their tramp. In Milan, they saw Napoleon crowned King of Italy. They
visited many historical spots to which Rodriguez took Bolivar on purpose
to arouse again his eager interest in _Equality, Fraternity, and
Liberty_.
Together they climbed Mount Sacro in Rome. And there Bolivar remembered
his threat to deprive Prince Ferdinand of the most precious jewel in his
Crown. He seized Rodriguez’s hand and swore a solemn oath to wrest
Venezuela from the Crown of Spain.[6]
For Venezuela--in fact all Spanish America--was the vast treasure-house
of Spain, the most precious jewel in her Crown.
THE FIERY YOUNG PATRIOT
Young Bolivar returned to his estates in Venezuela. But he stayed there
only for a little while. He soon gave up the easy indulgent life of
wealth to serve the Patriot cause.
He was sent on a mission to England. In London he met Miranda, the
Flaming Son of Liberty, whose burning, persuasive words blew into a
flame, the sparks of Liberty which Rodriguez had kindled in Bolivar’s
bosom.
Bolivar joined Miranda’s secret society. He urged Miranda to return at
once to Venezuela and strengthen the Patriot cause.
And thus it came about that the Flaming Son of Liberty went back to his
native land, and was made Commander-in-Chief of the Venezuelan forces.
Then it was, that the struggle for Venezuela’s Independence began to
make Spain tremble for the most precious jewel in her Crown.
How the fiery young Bolivar betrayed General Miranda, has already been
told in _The End of the Romance_, on page 344. After which Bolivar fled
into exile; and Spain confiscated his estates.
But Bolivar never gave up his determination to free Venezuela. And when
opportunity offered, he returned and became the head of the Patriot
Army.
It is not possible here to tell of all which he and his valiant troops
accomplished. They fought against the Spanish forces, they suffered
defeats, and they won victories. English, Irish, Scotch, and American
men, were volunteers in Bolivar’s Army, and many of them fighting
bravely, shed their blood for Venezuela’s Freedom.
It was a terrific war! Nowhere else in all Spanish America was there
waged a more ferocious campaign. The wake of the Spanish Generals,
Monteverde and Boves, was strewn with the corpses of innocent
non-combatants and with the ruins of pillaged towns and burned
villages.
“It is war to the death!” exclaimed Bolivar fiercely, in answer to these
atrocities.
And war to the death it was, on both sides--a war of ruthless
retaliation on prisoners and neutrals.
So the struggle went on. All the sufferings that accompany warfare were
the portion of the miserable people, ruined homes, weeping wives and
mothers, sick and dying children, crippled men, starvation, disease, and
sorrow-stricken hearts.
SEEING BOLIVAR
High adventure and spicy dangers were awaiting the first corps of
hot-headed young Englishmen who volunteered to fight for Venezuela.
They shipped from England. And after thrilling escapes on the coast of
Spanish Florida and among the West Indies, after many feasts of venison,
wild turkey, turtle, parrots, “tree-oysters,” and lizard, they reached
Venezuela.
There, higher adventures and spicier dangers were waiting.
They were convoyed by brig and launches up the swift river Orinoco. They
were marched through tropic forest and across _llanos_ or plains, to
join Bolivar.
As their boats were rowed through the deep water or poled through the
shallows of the Orinoco, they saw most wonderful sights.
Lining the banks, the giant mangrove trees shooting their gnarled
banyan-like roots into the water, were linked together by living chains
of vines, festooned with brilliant flowers as big as saucers or
teaplates. Herds of red monkeys with little ones clinging to their
shoulders, chattered, howled, and leaped from tree to tree, following
the boats along. Pink flamingoes, gigantic cranes, pelicans, and
spoonbills were wading about fishing. Overhead, flocks of red, blue,
green, and yellow parrots and macaws flashed to and fro filling the air
with screams; while the metallic note of the bellbird, sounded now close
to the ear and now far away.
From island to island in the river, glided evil-looking, light-green
snakes, lifting their heads and part of their bodies out of the water.
And under the roots of trees and in the stream, basked man-eating
alligators watching for their prey, only their eyes and nostrils showing
above the water.
And waiting to drop upon the young Englishmen if their boats came too
near, were venomous snakes glittering like jewels, coiled on the
mangrove limbs or hanging from the branches like shining tinsel ribbons.
Mosquitoes, too, were lively, piercing through the young men’s blankets
and cloaks, so thirsty were the insects for a taste of fresh, red
English blood.
And the young men were forced to keep a careful lookout at night for
fear of a visit from a python, jaguar, alligator, or electric eel. When
the sun set, night instantly fell like a black curtain, for there is no
twilight in the tropics. Then the howling of wild beasts made the place
hideous.
Finally, after passing Indian villages and towns pillaged and burned by
the Spanish soldiers, after water-trip and march, the young Englishmen
caught up with Bolivar on a plain near the Apure River.
The young men had long been eager to see that remarkable General whose
extraordinary energy and perseverance had already liberated a large
portion of Venezuela. And it was a picturesque scene that now burst on
their sight--a band of tropic warriors in a tropic setting.
Bolivar was surrounded by his officers, many of them mounted. A
magnificent wild-looking band they were in shirts of brilliant colours
worn over white drawers which reached below the knee. Bright bandanas
were tied about their heads to keep off the sun. Over these
handkerchiefs were set wide sombreros or hats made of split palm-leaves,
decorated with plumes of variegated feathers. One of the officers wore
a silver helmet instead of a sombrero, and another had on a casque of
beaten gold. Some had silver scabbards, and heavy silver ornaments on
their bridles. Almost all wore huge silver or brass spurs fastened to
their bare feet.
As soon as they saw the young Englishmen approaching, these wild-looking
chiefs spurred their horses forward uttering shrill shouts of welcome.
They embraced the young men, like long absent friends, and examined
their weapons and uniforms.
Bolivar, reigning in his horse, stood looking on in silence. He was a
small man, with a thin and careworn face, which had upon it an
expression of patient endurance. He appeared refined and elegant
although simply dressed. He wore a dragoon’s helmet. His uniform was a
blue jacket with red cuffs and gilt sugar-loaf buttons; coarse blue
trousers; and sandals of split aloe-fibre. As the young men came up, he
returned their salute with a peculiar melancholy smile, and then rode
on.
He carried in his hand a lance from which fluttered a small black
banner, embroidered with a white skull and cross-bones, and the motto:--
_Death or Liberty_
When they halted for the night, the young men were presented to Bolivar
as he sat in his hammock under the trees. He expressed great joy at
seeing Englishmen in his army, who might train and discipline his
troops. After asking questions about the condition of affairs in Europe,
he dismissed them in the charge of his officers. These gave the young
men lances and fine horses.
Thus the English lads became a part of Bolivar’s Army. They and their
countrymen, forming the English Legion, performed such brave deeds and
made such gallant charges on the battle-fields, that without them
Bolivar could not so soon have won Venezuela’s Independence. _Retold
from the account by one of the young Englishmen._
UNCLE PAEZ--THE LION OF THE APURE
Paez was one of Bolivar’s most daring and picturesque generals. It would
take a whole book to tell of his romantic adventures and how he was
exiled and came to live in New York. There is a painting of him and his
dashing cowboys in the Municipal Building of the City of New York.
At first he was a _llanero_ or cowboy of the plains. He was of mighty
strength, and was a magnificent horseman. He knew well how to use the
_llanero’s_ lance with all its cunning tricks. His men were cowboys,
horsemen, and fighters by instinct. They followed him into battle with
wild _llanero_ shouts. _Uncle Paez_, they called him, When Bolivar with
his troops reached the Apure River, he could not cross for there were no
boats. A few canoes were drawn up on the opposite bank, guarded by six
enemy gunboats.
As Bolivar paced up and down impatiently, he exclaimed:--
“Have I no brave man near me, who can take those gunboats?”
“They shall be yours in an hour,” said Paez coolly, who was standing by.
“Impossible!” said Bolivar.
“Leave that to me,” said Paez, and off he galloped. He soon returned
with a body of cowboys picked for their bravery.
“To the water, lads!” he cried, which was what he always said when they
went swimming.
The men immediately unsaddled their horses, stripped themselves to their
drawers, hung their swords about their necks, and stood ready.
“Let those follow Uncle, who please,” cried Paez, and urged his horse
into the river.
The men rode in after him straight toward the gunboats.
When the Spanish saw the dreaded cowboys approaching, who never gave
quarter, they fired hurriedly and missed. Then seized with panic, some
cast themselves into the water, and others escaped in canoes.
Only one prisoner was taken, a woman who fired the last gun at the
cowboys, but who could not stop them from boarding the gunboats.
Thus Bolivar gained possession of the region on both sides of the Apure.
Paez is sometimes called the “Lion of the Apure.”
ANGOSTURA
_February 15, 1819_
Down the upper Orinoco River, Bolivar’s canoe was slipping quietly past
wide savannahs, palm-tufted isles, and overhanging trees.
While reclining in the boat, he dictated to his secretary. During the
heat of the day they both landed, and Bolivar, lolling in a hammock
under the shadow of the giant trees, one hand playing with the lapel of
his coat and a forefinger on his upper lip, kept on dictating as the
mood seized him.
He was composing a new Constitution for the Republic of Venezuela, which
was to be presented at the Congress meeting in the city of Angostura on
the Orinoco.
And it was the adoption of this Constitution, that made Angostura
famous.
To-day the town is called the City of Bolivar.
And while the Congress was meeting, Bolivar and his chief officers held
a council of war, sitting on bleached skulls of cattle slaughtered for
army food. They discussed the dangerous plan of crossing the Andes into
New Granada, and of helping the Patriots there to drive out the Spanish
Army.
They decided to attempt the crossing. And what that terrible march was
like, one of the young Englishmen who went with Bolivar, will tell in
our next story.
THE CROSSING
This crossing of the Andes was terrible. The hardships which Bolivar’s
troops endured are indescribable.
At that time of year, the plains were flooded. The infantry were obliged
to march for hours together up to their middle in water. Sometimes the
men fell into holes, or stuck fast in the marshes.
Many of the soldiers were bitten in their legs and thighs by little
goldfish, brilliant orange in colour and exceedingly voracious. Whole
swarms of these little fish came rushing through the water, with their
mouths open, showing their broad, sharp teeth like sharks’ teeth.
Wherever they bit, they tore away a piece of flesh. They attacked the
poor men most savagely.
As the troops approached the mountains, the cold winds began to be felt
blowing down from the snowy ridges of the Cordilleras. Soon, violent
mountain torrents swept across the Army’s path; and the men on horseback
were forced to carry across stream all the arms and baggage of the
foot-soldiers. Even Bolivar himself rode again and again through the
rushing current, carrying over sick and weak soldiers and even women who
had followed their husbands. As the trail began to ascend, the horses
used to the level plain, could scarcely keep their footing on the rocky
way, and began to flag and fall lame.
The snowy peaks of the Andes were now seen to stretch like an impassable
barrier between Venezuela and New Granada. The narrow paths wound their
way up among wild crags, and through ancient forests that clothed the
mountain-sides with trees so vast and thick that the light of day was
almost excluded. At that high altitude, the trees caught and held the
passing clouds in their branches. From the clouds distilled an almost
incessant rain, making the steep trails slippery and dangerous. The few
tired mules that had not perished on the line of march, patiently
clambered on. Now and then, one would slip and go plunging over a
precipice; its fall could be traced by the crashing of shrubs and trees
until its mangled body rolled into a foaming stream far below.
Although the Army was drenched by rain night and day, it did not
experience severe cold until it emerged from the forests into the bleak
unsheltered passes between the mountain peaks. Then the piercing cold
bit through the soldiers’ thin garments. Many who had worn shoes when
they left the plains, were now barefooted. Even some of the officers
were in rags, so that they were glad to wrap themselves in blankets.
The view of the Andes at this great height was wildly magnificent.
Incessant gusts of wind swept the passes, and whirled the snow in drifts
from the summits of the ridges. The whole range appeared to be encrusted
with ice, cracked in many places, from which cascades of water were
constantly rushing. Huge pinnacles of granite overhung the passes,
apparently tottering and about to fall. There was no longer any beaten
path; the ground was rocky and broken. Terrific chasms yawned on every
hand, appalling to the sight.
A sense of great loneliness seized the men. Dead silence prevailed
except for the scream of the condor or the noise of distant waterfalls.
The air was so rarefied that many of the soldiers, overcome by
drowsiness, lay down and died.
But at last the crest of the Andes was passed, and the Army began to
descend on the other side into the valleys of New Granada. The descent
was not so difficult because the mountain-side was less rugged than the
side they had ascended.
As soon as the Army reached the lowlands, Bolivar lost no time in
preparing for battle. With his men, he took his stand at the Bridge of
Boyaca.
Never was there a more complete victory. The whole of the Spanish Army
with baggage, powder, and military stores, fell into the hands of
Bolivar.
The Battle of Boyaca liberated New Granada from Spain, for ever.
Then Venezuela and New Granada united, and became the Republic of
Colombia--or Great Colombia.
_Retold from the account of a
soldier who accompanied Bolivar_
PERU NEXT
Now was Bolivar at the height of his power.
He had liberated Venezuela and New Granada. He had founded the Great
Republic of Colombia, and had given it a Constitution. He was
practically Dictator of the Republic.
He had sent his favourite General, the heroic Antonio de Sucre, to
liberate Quito.
Bolivar now turned his eyes toward Peru. In his ambition he dreamed of a
Greater Colombia which should include that country.
But there was an obstacle in his way.
Peru had already declared her Independence. The foundations of her
Liberty had been laid by another General and another Army. For Jose de
San Martin of Argentina, was Peru’s acknowledged Protector.
Then came the Amazing Meeting, as told on page 272.
After that meeting, Bolivar with his Army entered Peru. He combined his
forces with those of the Liberating Army of Peru, and with the aid of
the valiant Sucre, completed what San Martin had so well begun, and
swept away the last vestiges of Spanish power from South America.
So the great struggle for Independence, which had lasted over twenty
years, was finished.
But Bolivar was not allowed to enjoy long the fruits of his victories.
We shall see why.
THE BREAK
Exiled from Venezuela, consumptive, wellnigh penniless, insulted by his
own people, was Bolivar only a few years later.
The creation of his genius, the Great Colombia, was rent with
revolutions. His own General Paez had abandoned him. His friend Antonio
Sucre had been assassinated.
Bitterness filled Bolivar’s soul, his pride was broken, but he still
loved Colombia.
His dying words to her people, were:--
_Colombians! My last wishes are for the happiness of my native
Land. If my death helps to check the growth of factions and to
consolidate the Union, I shall rest tranquilly in the tomb._
So passed away the Liberator of Venezuela, the founder of the Republic
of Colombia.
Twelve years later Paez, who was ruling in Venezuela, brought Bolivar’s
body to Caracas and interred it with honours. But he left the hero’s
heart in an urn in the Cathedral of Santa Marta, the city where he had
died.
* * * * *
Great Colombia, or the Great Republic of Colombia, founded by Bolivar,
was a Union consisting of Venezuela, New Granada, and Ecuador. Great
Colombia fell; its Union was dissolved. To-day, instead, there exist
three independent Republics--Venezuela, Colombia, and Ecuador.
As for Bolivia, it was a part of Upper Peru. It was liberated by the
help of Antonio Sucre. It declared its Independence, and took the name
of Bolivar. To-day it is the Republic of Bolivia, “rich in all the
natural products of the world.”
BOLIVAR THE MAN
I
Simon de Bolivar was about five feet six inches in height, lean of limb
and body. His cheek bones stood out prominently in an oval-shaped face,
which tapered sharply towards the chin.
His countenance was vivacious; but his skin was furrowed with wrinkles
and tanned by exposure to a tropical sun. The curly black hair that once
covered Bolivar’s head in luxuriant profusion, began to turn white about
1821. Thenceforth, he was accustomed to wear his hair short.
His nose was long and aquiline. Flexible, sensual lips were often shaded
by a thick mustache; while whiskers covered a part of his face. In 1822,
Bolivar’s large, black, penetrating eyes, “with the glance of an eagle,”
were losing their remarkable brilliancy. At that time, Bolivar had also
lost some of the animation, energy, and extraordinary agility which had
distinguished him in youth and early manhood. Even the casual observer
judged him to be many years older than he really was, so sick and weary
did he appear....
A man of many moods, jovial, talkative, taciturn, gloomy, he changed
swiftly from sunshine to storm.
_William Spence Robertson_ (_Condensed_)
II
“Simon de Bolivar has been characterized as the Napoleon of the South
American Revolution, ...” writes William Spence Robertson, who has been
decorated with Bolivar’s Order of the Liberators. “‘Defeat left Bolivar
undismayed,’ said O’Leary, who served for a time as an aide-de-camp of
the Liberator. ‘Always great, he was greatest in adversity. His enemies
had a saying that “when vanquished Bolivar is more terrible than when he
conquers.”’”
“There is one point on which all are agreed,” writes F. Loraine Petre,
“the generosity of Bolivar, his carelessness of money and his financial
uprightness. Few men ever had greater opportunities of enriching
themselves; still fewer more honestly refused to take advantage of their
opportunities. He commenced life as a rich man, he died almost a
pauper....
“The figure of the worn-out Liberator, suffering in mind and body,
deserted by all but a few, reviled by the majority of those who owed
everything to him, is one of the most pathetic in history.”
AUGUST 20
BERNARDO O’HIGGINS
FIRST SOLDIER, FIRST CITIZEN OF CHILE
_Since my childhood I have loved Chile; and I have shed my blood on
the battle-fields which secured her liberties. If it has not been
my privilege to perfect her institutions, I have the satisfaction
of knowing that I am leaving her free and independent, respected
abroad, and glorious in her victories._
_I thank God for the favours He has granted my Government, and pray
that He may protect and guide those who will follow me._
BERNARDO O’HIGGINS, _to the Chilean Assembly_
O’HIGGINS
_The name of O’Higgins ... has a double lustre; because it was
borne by two generations with an almost equal brilliancy. It is
seldom that a genius such as Ambrose O’Higgins the father, the
greatest Viceroy of royalist Spanish America, bears a man such as
Bernardo O’Higgins the son, first chief of the new Republic which
sprang up from the ashes of his dead father’s Government._
W. H. KOEBEL
_Bernardo O’Higgins alone was able to accomplish and establish the
semblance of decent dignified government in his Country after the
great upheaval, a fact mostly due to his own transparent honesty,
utter unselfishness, and pure Patriotism, as much as to his
political acumen, diplomacy, and powers of organization._
JOHN J. MEHEGAN
BERNARDO O’HIGGINS was born August 20, 1778 Became the Hero of
Rancagua, 1814
He and San Martin won the Battle of Chacabuco, February 12, 1817
First Independence Day in Chile, February 12, 1818
O’Higgins went into exile, 1823
He died in Peru, October 24, 1842
THE SON OF THE BAREFOOT BOY
Ambrose O’Higgins was like the bright lad in the fairy tale, who started
out to seek his fortune with a knapsack on his back. Ambrose was only a
servant-boy in Ireland, barefoot some say, running errands for the Lady
of Castle Dangan in County Meath. Then one day he set out to seek his
fortune in Spain where he had an uncle.
He did not find it there. So he bought a stock of merchandise, and took
ship for South America, the wonderful country, where, so people said,
one could get treasure and emeralds a-plenty.
He landed at Buenos Aires, and sold some of his goods. Then he crossed
the _pampas_, or prairie, and packed his goods by mule-train over the
high Andes into Chile.
Still his treasure did not appear, and, being a venturesome lad, he made
his way north to Lima in Peru. There he kept a small stall and peddled
his wares under the shadow of Pizarro’s ancient Cathedral. As he looked
up at its weather-beaten walls and down at his old clothes, little he
dreamed that one day he should enter the door of that very Cathedral
clad in a Vice-King’s garments and surrounded by a brilliant retinue of
officers and retainers.
Not knowing that all this wonderful thing was to happen, he grew
restless and set off on his travels through Venezuela and New Granada,
and finally went back to Chile.
There his fortune was awaiting him. As the years passed, he studied and
worked industriously, until he became a famous civil engineer and built
roads and did great things for Chile. He devoted himself to Chile’s
interest until the King of Spain, learning of his genius and of all the
improvements he had brought about in the country, appointed him its
Governor.
He served with such wisdom that, in time, he was made Viceroy, or
Vice-King, of Peru, the highest and most coveted office in all Spanish
America.
So with pomp and procession, in a Vice-King’s garments, he entered the
Cathedral doors of the very city where once as a poor homeless boy he
had peddled his wares.
He died at a great age, full of honours, and left his estate to Bernardo
his son.