THE LLANEROS.
“Dicheso aquel que alcanza
Como rico don del Cielo,
Para defender su suelo
Buen caballo y buena lanza.”
--AROLAS.
The people inhabiting the vast region of the Llanos, although claiming
descent from the old Castilian race, once the rulers of the land, are,
in fact, an amalgamation of the various castes composing the present
population of the Republic. These are, the whites, or the descendants of
the European settlers of the country; the aboriginals or Indians, and a
great proportion of blacks. In most of the towns the native whites
preponderate over all others, and represent the wealth, as well as the
most respectable portion of the community; in the villages and thinly
populated districts of the plains, a mongrel breed resulting from the
admixture of these three, constitute the majority of the inhabitants.
These are dispersed over an area of 27,000 square miles, making a
proportion of only fourteen individuals, out of a population of
390,000, to every square mile.
This race, although vastly inferior to the first in mental capacity and
moral worth, is endowed with a physique admirably adapted to endure the
fatigues of a life beset with dangers and hardships.[21] Cast upon a
wild and apparently interminable plain, the domain of savage beasts and
poisonous reptiles, their lot has been to pass all their life in a
perpetual struggle, not only with the primitive possessors of the land,
but with the elements themselves, often as fierce as they are grand.
When it is not the alarm of the dreaded viper or the spotted jaguar, it
is the sudden inroad of vast inundations, which, spreading with fearful
rapidity over the land, sweep off in one moment their frail habitations
and their herds. Nevertheless, this insecure existence, this continual
struggle between life and death, between rude intellect and matter, has
for the Llanero a sort of fascination, perhaps not so well understood by
people possessing the blessings and ideas of civilization, but without
which he could not exist, especially if deprived of his horse and cast
among the mountain region north of his cherished plains. The Modern
Centaur of the desolate regions of the New World, the Llanero spends his
life on horseback; all his actions and exertions must be assisted by his
horse; for him the noblest effort of man is, when gliding swiftly over
the boundless plain and bending over his spirited charger, he overturns
an enemy or masters a wild bull. The following lines of Victor Hugo seem
as though copied from this model: “He would not fight but on horseback;
he forms but one person with his horse; he lives on horseback; trades,
buys, and sells on horseback; eats, drinks, sleeps, and dreams on
horseback.” Like the Arab, he considers his horse his best and most
reliable friend on earth, often depriving himself of rest and comfort
after a hard day’s journey to afford his faithful companion abundance of
food and water. It is not at all surprising, therefore, to hear the
bard--all Llaneros are poets more or less--exclaim, after the loss of
both his wife and valued horse:
Mi muger y mi caballo
Se me murieron á un tiempo;
Que muger, ni que demonio,
Mi caballo es lo que siento.
My wife and my valued horse
Died both at the same time;
To the devil with my wife,
For my horse do I repine.
Few people in the world are better riders than the Llaneros of
Venezuela, if we except perhaps the Gauchos of Buenos Ayres, or equal to
either in the dexterity they display in the wonderful feats of
horsemanship to which their occupations in the field inure them from
childhood. Their horses, moreover, are so well trained to the various
evolutions of their profession, that animal and rider seem to possess
but one existence.
The life of the Llanero, like that of the Gaucho his prototype, is
singularly interesting, and resembles in many respects that of others
who, like them, have their abode in the midst of extensive plains. Thus
they have been aptly styled the Cossacks and the Arabs of the New World,
with both of whom they have many points in common, but more especially
do they resemble the last named. When visiting the famous Constantine
Gallery of paintings at Versailles, I was struck with the resemblance of
the Algerine heroes of Horace Vernet with our own, revealing at once the
Moorish descent of the latter, independently of other characteristic
peculiarities.
The inimitable author of “Journeys Across The Pampas,” already quoted,
alluding to the life of these wild shepherds of the plains, compares it
very appropriately to the rise and progress of a young eagle, so
beautifully described by Horace in the following verses:
Olim juventas et patrius vigor
Nidum laborum propulit inscium;
Vernique, jam nimbis remotis,
Insolitos docuere nisus
Venti paventem; mox in ovilia
Demisit hostem vividus impetus;
Nunc in reluctantes dracones
Egit amor dapis atque pugnæ.
--HORACE, Book iv., Ode iv.
“Whom native vigor, and the rush
Of youth have spurr’d to quit the nest,
And skies of blue, in springtide’s flush,
Entice aloft to breast
The gales he fear’d before his lordly plumes were drest.
“Now swooping, eager for his prey,
Spreads havoc through the flutter’d fold;
Straight, fired by love of food and fray,
In grapple fierce and bold,
The struggling dragons rends, e’en in their rocky hold.”
--TRANSLATION BY MARTIN.
“Born in the rude hut, the infant Gaucho receives little attention, but
is left to swing from the roof in a bullock’s hide, the corners of which
are drawn towards each other by four strips of hide. In the first year
of his life he crawls about without clothes, and I have more than once
seen a mother give a child of this age a sharp knife, a foot long, to
play with. As soon as he walks, his infantine amusements are those which
prepare him for the occupations of his future life; with a lazo made of
twine he tries to catch little birds, or the dogs, as they walk in and
out of the hut. By the time he is four years old he is on horseback, and
immediately becomes useful by assisting to drive the cattle into the
corral.”
When sufficiently strong to cope with a wild animal, the young Llanero
is taken to the _majada_ or great cattle-pen, and there hoisted upon the
bare back of a fierce young bull. With his face turned towards the
animal’s tail, which he holds in lieu of bridle, and his little legs
twisted around the neck of his antagonist, he is whirled round and round
at a furious rate. His position, as may be imagined, is any thing but
equestrian; yet, the fear of coming in contact with the bull’s horns
compels the rider to hold on until, by a dexterous twist of the animal’s
tail while he jumps off its back, he succeeds in overturning his
antagonist.
In proportion as he grows older and stronger, a more manly amusement is
afforded him with the breaking in of a wild colt. This being, however, a
more dangerous experiment, in which many a “young eagle” is rendered a
“lame duck,” he is provided with the necessary accoutrements to
withstand the terrible struggle with the animal. Firmly seated upon his
back and brandishing overhead a tough _chaparro_ vine for a whip, the
apprentice is thus installed in his new office, from which he must not
descend until the brute is perfectly subdued; the coil of lazo in the
hands of his merciless instructor would be the least evil awaiting him
should he otherwise escape safe and sound from the desperate kicks and
plunges of the horse.
Here commences what we may term, the public life of the Llanero; his
education is now considered complete. From this moment all his endeavors
and ambition will be to rival his companions in the display of physical
force, which he shows to an admirable degree when, armed with his tough
lazo, he pursues the wild animals of his domain. If a powerful bull or
wild horse tries to escape into the open plain, the cavalier unfurls the
noose which is always ready by his side, and the fugitive is quickly
brought back to the corral. Should the thong give way under the
impetuous flight of the animal, the rider seizes him by the tail, and
whirling round suddenly, pulls towards him with so much force as to
cause his immediate overthrow.
In all these exercises the roving cavalier of the Llanos acquires that
feeling of security and enduring disposition for which he is famous.
Unfortunately, it is often turned to account in disturbing the balance
of power among his more enlightened countrymen; for he is always ready
to join the first revolutionary movement offering him the best chances
for equipping himself with arms of all descriptions. Next to the horse,
the Llanero esteems those weapons which give him a superiority over his
fellow-creatures, viz., a lance, a blunderbuss, and a fine sword. If he
is unprovided with either of these, he considers himself a miserable and
degraded being, and all his efforts will tend to gratify this favorite
vanity, even at the risk of his own life. Therefore he goes to war,
because he is sure, if victorious, of finding the battle-field covered
with these tempting trophies of his ambition. In this, unfortunately, he
is too often encouraged by a host of unprincipled politicians who, not
wishing to earn a livelihood by fair means, are eternally plotting
against the powers that be.
The style of sword worn by the Llaneros differs little from that used
by Spaniards of the middle ages, the hilt being surmounted by a guard in
the shape of a reversed cup, affording an excellent protection to the
hand that wields it, while the blade is made with two edges, instead of
one. Most of these swords are mounted in silver, the same as the
accompanying dagger, another of their favorite weapons; and such is the
passion among Llaneros for glittering swords and daggers, that they
would sooner dispense with a house or a corral, than with either of
these expensive commodities.
The lance comes next in importance, and in their hands is quite a
formidable weapon, which they are enabled to handle with great
dexterity, from their constant practice with the _garrocha_ or goad with
which they drive and turn the cattle. As an element of war, the lance
has become celebrated in the country, having rendered the cause of
Independence the most effectual service in repelling the attacks of the
sanguinary hosts sent by Spain against the indomitable “Rebeldes” of
Colombia.
The _trabuco_ or blunderbuss, too, is held in great estimation as a
weapon of defence, or rather of aggression, as they are at all times
ready to test its powers on the slightest provocation; and nobody thinks
of travelling in that desert country without one of these wide-mouthed
spitfires by his side.
Being rather of a superstitious turn of mind, these people believe that
by decorating their deadly weapons with some insignia of their religion,
they are rendered more effectual; the cross surmounts their swords and
daggers; while the rosary and _agnus Dei_ entwine the butt-end of their
_trabucos_, when called into requisition. Thus they are emboldened to
perform acts of desperate valor which, under any other circumstances,
would be considered rash in the extreme.
Such is the religious faith of these benighted people; a religion of
form and superstition rather than conviction. Christianity, like the
Spanish language, exists among them, it is true; but corrupted and
enveloped in dark superstition, almost bordering on idolatry. It cannot,
however, be expected that a widely scattered population over so
extensive an area of desert plains, should possess any means of
enlightenment beyond what is conveyed to them through the few teachers
distributed among the principal towns of the interior. Therefore it is
not an unusual thing to meet with persons owning extensive cattle farms,
and even holding important commissions in the army, who cannot read or
write. During the good old times of the Capuchin Missions, the youth of
the villages under their control received at their hands a scanty
education, principally in the primary notions of the catechism; but with
the destruction of those beneficent establishments, during the
protracted struggle between natives and Spaniards, they were replunged
into utter ignorance, and most of their places of worship have long
since gone to decay. They have retained, nevertheless, enough of the
extravagant notions of that school to establish a creed singularly at
variance with the teachings of the Gospel, and founded principally on a
belief in saints and amulets. The latter consist in little trinkets
wrought in gold or silver; or written orisons carefully preserved in
leathern bags and worn suspended from their rosaries around their necks.
Most of these orisons are the more extravagant from the fact they have
no meaning whatever; yet this very obscurity seems to attach greater
value to them, their principal charm consisting, as they say, in their
mysterious import.
Great faith is also placed in certain prayers which are supposed to have
the power of driving away the Devil, curing diseases and averting all
kinds of evil.
As regards their Creator, they only have some vague ideas; they believe,
for instance, in one God; _mais voila tout_. They seem to entertain
greater fear of Beelzebub and Death personified, both of whom they
imagine to possess undisputed sway over His creatures. The first they
fancy to be fashioned with horns, hoofs, and claws like some of their
wild beasts. Their ideas of death are no less extravagant. A respectable
old gentleman of my acquaintance who once found himself very low with
fever, thus related his experience respecting this fearful vision.
“Why!” said he to a circle of friends who came to congratulate him on
his recovery, “I had always supposed that Death was actually a horrid
skeleton skulking about the world in search of victims, and carrying in
his hand a fearful hook with which he angled for us as we do for fish.
No such thing, my friends, I assure you; Death, after all, is nothing
more than lack of breath;” accompanying the assertion with a gentle
pressure of his nose with his fingers and a hearty laugh.
As a natural consequence, the Llaneros, in spite of their bravery and
_sang froid_ in other respects, entertain great fear of _espantos_ or
ghosts and apparitions. One of the most popular hallucinations of this
kind is _la bola de fuego_, or “light of Aguirre the Tyrant,” as the
natives usually style it--a sort of _ignis fatuus_, arising from the
decomposition of organic substances at the bottom of certain marshes.
Superstitious imaginations, unacquainted with this phenomenon, readily
transform these gaseous exhalations into the soul of the famous Lope de
Aguirre wandering about the savannas. This adventurous individual had
the satisfaction, while he lived, of discovering the great river Amazon.
Being of a restless and bloody disposition, like all the heroes of that
epoch, he started in search of El Dorado with a powerful expedition from
Peru, which resulted in the discovery of the Father of Waters. He
stained his laurels, however, with the blood of his own daughter, as
well as with that of his companions, for which unpardonable atrocities
it is believed his accursed soul was left to wander over those countries
which he sullied with his crimes.[22] Now it appears before the
terrified traveller in the form of a blazing ball of fire; a minute
after it will be seen one or two miles off. If sufficiently near, the
spectator cannot fail to observe the entrails of the wicked wanderer
enveloped in the flames of this extraordinary apparition. Such is the
power of affrighted imaginations which have converted one of the
commonest phenomena of chemical action into the wildest speculation of
besotted fanaticism.
With regard to miracles and the interposition of the saints, the names
of some of which are constantly in their mouths, the Llaneros also have
many curious notions. For every emergency of their lives there is a
special patron saint; San Pablo, like good old St. Patrick, is supposed
to have entire sway over snakes and other vermin; San Antonio, the power
of restoring stolen goods to their rightful owners; while San somebody
else that of befriending the highway robber and assassin from the
punishment of justice and violent death. As an illustration of this
fact, I will relate here an incident which I witnessed during one of
those endemic revolutions so typical of the Spanish American republics,
and which never fail to foster lawless bands of desperadoes who, under
the cover of political reforms, commit all sorts of depredations upon
the helpless inhabitants.
JOSE URBANO, THE GUERILLA-CHIEF.
_A digression for the sake of variety._
Shortly after our return from the Apure, a revolution broke out among
the colored population; a class which until then had been the most
peaceful and submissive, but since perverted to such a degree as to
require all the energies and resources of the white race to save itself
from utter ruin and degradation.
An ambitious demagogue, editor of a newspaper in the capital, had been
seized with the mania, so prevalent in South America, of becoming
President (_pro tem._) of the Republic. To this end, he spared no means
in recommending himself to the public, through the columns of his paper,
heaping at the same time all kinds of slander and abuse upon those who
stood in his way. Finding, however, little coöperation from the better
class of the community, he experienced no scruple in courting the favor
of the colored population, who, he readily persuaded, “had a perfect
right to share in the gains and property of their aristocratic masters.”
The Government was powerless in arresting the spirit of revolt which was
daily being infused among the masses, as the Constitution allowed
perfect freedom of the press, and the good citizens did not care to take
the matter into their own hands. The consequence was, a fearful outbreak
among the lower classes, backed by all the _tramposos_ or broken-down
speculators of the country, proclaiming community of property, and the
ci-devant editor (who, by the way, had not a _sous_ to stake in it)
candidate for the next Presidency of the Republic. The revolt soon
spread to the Llaneros, by far the most to be feared in the matter of
hard blows; and although it was quelled in time through the efforts of
General Paez, it sowed the seeds of discontent which have since brought
forth to the country an abundant crop of revenge, violence, and rapine.
It was during that campaign the incident I am about to relate occurred
in the savannas of San Pablo.
We had just encamped for the night on the beautiful plain of Morrocoyes,
not far from our place, when a messenger arrived to apprise the General
that the famous José Urbano, leader of a band of robbers who had
committed several wanton murders in that neighborhood, had crossed over
to San Pablo under cover of night. The General immediately despatched a
dozen of his men after the banditti, with positive orders to follow up
the _rastro_ or trail to the world’s end if necessary, and not return to
his presence without the body of the leader, _muerto ó vivo_, dead or
alive. To any other set of men less accustomed to the wild pursuits of
the Llanos, this would have appeared an impossibility in a country like
San Pablo, traversed in all directions by numerous cross-ways made by
the cattle; but the instinct of those men in tracking runaways as well
as stray animals, is truly wonderful. Although the plain was covered
with the footprints of twenty thousand animals roaming wild over the
savannas, they followed close on the heels of the banditti, until they
fell in, unfortunately, with another trail left by some _vaqueros_. The
night was very dark, and they easily mistook this for that of the enemy.
As a matter of course it led them to a ranch where the unlucky
_vaqueros_ were amusing themselves at the game of monte. Without
stopping to ascertain who the gamblers were, the troop charged in the
midst of them, killing two or three innocent fellows, and dispersing the
rest like a herd of wild sheep. The aggressors did not discover their
mistake until one of the fugitives, who happened to be acquainted with
the party, recognized the voice of the commander, and shouted to him to
stop the carnage.
After this unfortunate encounter, it may be easy to conceive that the
troopers were not slow in retracing their steps in search of the cause
of their mistake; this time, however, with more prudence, carefully
examining every trail until they found the right one. It led them to
another ranch where Urbano was spending the evening in the society of
one of his numerous sweethearts. Here they all dismounted very quietly,
and leaving the horses in charge of two companions, they rushed into the
ranch with a wild shout and lance in hand. The attack was so sudden,
that most of the banditti were either killed or dispersed before they
had time to seize their arms. Only their gallant leader stood at bay
against tremendous odds, defending himself bravely for a long time with
the assistance of his equally courageous sweetheart, who kept all the
while urging him on like a tigress.
Overpowered at last by a superior force, and faint with the loss of
blood from numerous wounds, the bandit fell at the feet of his sable
Amazon. When raised, an amulet was found between his teeth so firmly
held, that it required the united efforts of two men to remove it. On
being opened, it was found to contain a written orison, shrouded in such
mysterious language as would have defied the skill of a magician to
decipher. This, I was informed, was the famous _Oracion del Justo Juez_,
a singular misnomer for a talisman intended to befriend these _gente non
sancta_ in their marauding expeditions.
It was a lucky thing for the assailants that Urbano received at the
outset a severe cut on his right arm, causing an immediate flow of blood
which filled the pan of his _trabuco_, otherwise the affair would have
terminated very differently. The ignition of the powder was thus
prevented just as he was in the act of discharging the contents of that
engine of destruction amidst the group.
The body of the culprit was now tied on the back of a horse and conveyed
to the presence of the General, as an atonement for the unfortunate
mistake which had deprived him of the services of two or three valuable
hands.
The news of this adventure spread as if by magic over the surrounding
country and brought together great numbers of _curiosos_, among them, no
doubt, many of Urbano’s adherents, who might have discredited the
statement. The General improved the opportunity to address them an
impressive homily, ordering at the same time the mutilated body of the
renowned bandit to be exposed on the public road for twenty-four hours,
as a warning to others with similar proclivities.
The death of this man, considered invulnerable by the superstitious
children of the Llanos, produced a more powerful impression upon them
than if a great battle had been fought and won. Next day, hundreds of
_facciosos_, availing themselves of a general amnesty granted by the
Commander-in-Chief to repentant revolutionists, began to arrive from
various quarters and gave in their submission.
Thus ended for the time being one of the most dangerous outbreaks that
had ever occurred in the country, from the nature of the principles
involved. As to the originator, he was subsequently eclipsed by a bolder
political aspirant, the ever-memorable José T. Monagas. This worthy, of
whom more especial mention will be made hereafter, and who, in an evil
hour for his country, was called to fill the chair of State, profiting
by the condition of anarchy in which the other had plunged the nation,
afterwards shot down the Representatives of the people in Congress
assembled, and proclaimed himself absolute ruler, thus leaving the other
ambitious pretender to exclaim with the poet:
“Hos ego versiculos feci, tulit alter honores.”