CHAPTER XXVI.
Buenos Ayres.
February 24th.—On Saturday, I accompanied a large party of ladies and gentlemen, Americans and English, in a visit to the scene of the late battle. It is called indiscriminately, “Monte Caseros,” from the name of the country-house at which Rosas took position in meeting the enemy, and “Moron,” from that of the nearest hamlet, a mile or two distant.
We were off at an early hour. The morning was brilliant, and delightful in its freshness: almost too cool, in contrast with the excessive heat of the first few days after my arrival. The road we took led past several country-seats in the suburbs, at which the victorious troops were still quartered. Their horses and camp-fires had made sad havoc with the shrubberies and plantations of these; many of the trees being terribly barked by the former, while their limbs had been stripped off and cut up for fuel by the latter. Bivouac after bivouac, and rude encampment after encampment, extended miles beyond Palermo; while the road on either side, and often in its centre, presented the aspect of a continued slaughter house—the hoofs, horns, hides and entrails of the animals daily slain for the subsistence of the soldiery, being scattered about every where, and polluting the air with their offensive effluvia. The whole distance of fifteen miles, gave evidence of the desolating effects of the retreat of the vanquished, and of the marauding presence of the victors.
At the end of twelve miles, we came upon the military village of Santos Lugares, composed of brick huts, the regular cantonment of the army, from which Rosas had led his force of twenty thousand to Monte Caseros, on the evening of the 1st instant. This seemed now, literally, a “deserted village:” every building being vacant, with the appearance of having suffered utter pillage. It has its church, and an extensive common, or green, ornamented at one point by a clump of ombu, a species of gum-tree—the chief emblem of the country. Shortly after passing this, we caught view in the distance of the white tower of Monte Caseros, the head-quarters of Rosas at the commencement of the battle. Its mirador, or observatory, commands a view of the surrounding region; and from it he watched the advance of Urquiza, and for a time, the progress of the engagement. He then descended to the field, and took part in the fight, till it was evident the day was lost. Persuaded of this, he seized a cartridge from the box of a common soldier; breaking it in pieces, he blackened his face with the powder, and mounting a magnificent horse, in readiness near by, succeeded in making his escape amid the dust and uproar of the general rout. He made his way without being recognized, to the residence of the British minister in the city. There his daughter joined him, and under the guidance of that gentleman both sought refuge at midnight, in the disguise before mentioned, on board the flag-ship of Admiral Henderson.
Evidences of the conflict, or rather of the flight and pursuit, now began rapidly to multiply, in tattered portions of clothing and in accoutrements—caps, sword-belts, cartridge-boxes, bayonet-sheaths, cuirasses, and broken musical instruments, and drums. What seemed the most singular part of this camp equipage, was the quantity of letters and manuscript papers, scattered widely and for great distances over the ground. Soon the more revolting spectacle of a dead body presented itself here and there, naked and ghastly, blackening in the sun, in a frightful state of decomposition, and tainting the whole atmosphere by its impurity. These multiplied rapidly as we advanced; none of the slain of either party having yet been buried, excepting such as have been sought for and discovered by personal friends. The brick walls of the country-house and those of a large circular dove-cote, of the same material, whitewashed, are a good deal marked and shattered by balls both of cannon and musketry. After Rosas had left the observatory and the house, a strong party of his officers kept possession of them. When the battle seemed to be given up, it was supposed by the victors that these, like others outside, had surrendered; but on attempting to enter, they were met by a volley of musketry, with the cry of “Viva Rosas!” This led to an immediate onslaught by the assailants; and every man within, amounting to thirty or forty, was at once put to the sword. Till within a day or two past, their bodies lay piled upon each other as they had thus fallen, upon the stairs and platforms of the tower; and since having been dragged out, still lie scattered over the lawn in nakedness and putrefaction. Two or three bodies are stretched on the roof of the dove-house also, as they fell on being shot down in its defence.
Though the engagement commenced at daybreak and continued three or four hours, the number of the slain is thought not to exceed three hundred; and the wounded, not more than six. Still these numbers are quite sufficient, where father met son and brother met brother, in deadly fight. While we were on the tower, two brothers happened there, and pointed out to us the positions of the two forces, at different times during the engagement. Both were in the battle, one with the troops of Rosas, and the other with those of Urquiza.
With the exception of the objects mentioned, there was little to interest; and, after strolling around for an hour or two, we returned to the shade of the ombu trees of Santos Lugares, to partake of an ample lunch, provided by the ladies of the party. One result of the excursion, was the opportunity it afforded me of gaining my first sight of what is here termed the ‘camp;’ the flat open country of the pampas, or plains, which extend hundreds of leagues, with a surface more level and less wooded than that of the prairies of the West with us: a vast sea of grass and thistles, without roads or enclosures, and without a habitation, except at long intervals. Nothing breaks the unvarying outline, unless it be now and then an ombu, rising on the distant horizon, like a ship at sea. Travellers upon these plains, whether on horseback or in carriages, like voyagers on the ocean, direct their course over the trackless expanse, by compass.
The 19th was appointed for the public entry of Urquiza into the capital, with the entire allied force, cavalry, infantry, and artillery, to the number of twenty thousand. Rain during the preceding night, laid the dust and freshened the air. The morning was pure, cool and pleasant, somewhat obscured by clouds till noon, but after that hour, clear and brilliant. Every street and every house was gay with fluttering flags and the banners of all civilized nations, and the whole city in gala dress. I had invitations to the balconies of several private houses in different streets through which the procession would pass; but preferred a roving commission, with the advantage of being able to change at pleasure my point of view. I chose a stand at an angle of the Plaza Victoria, or place of victory, the principal square in the city, near a triumphal arch thrown over the street through which the procession would débouche upon the Plaza. It was the best point for observation; giving a near view of the chief officers and troops, and commanding in coup d’œil the masses of people in the open square; the decorations of the monument of victory in its centre; and of the public buildings facing it, as well as of the crowded balconies and flat-topped roofs of the surrounding houses, thronged with spectators of all ages and both sexes in holiday attire.
Urquiza as captain-general and commander-in-chief, with his staff, headed the columns. These had formed at Palermo, the cavalry being eight, and the infantry and artillery twelve abreast. The chieftain’s dress and that of his staff was not full uniform. With a military coat, he wore a round beaver hat and scarlet hatband, and held a riding-whip in his hand as if on a hunt. The red hatband, besides its demi-savage look, gave offence, it is said, to the Buenos Ayreans, by reminding them of the thraldom of which it had been made a badge under Rosas; and which, with the waistcoat and every thing of the same color, they had indignantly and with abhorrence thrown off, the moment they found themselves free to do so. It is also said that every demonstration of popular feeling, by shouts and vivas, had been interdicted; and there was little enthusiasm manifested in this way. Bouquets, however, were showered upon the conqueror in great abundance, and his hands and those of his immediate suite were filled with such as had been picked up and handed to them. It struck me, notwithstanding, that there was nothing very gracious in the expression of countenance or manner of the hero: that something had gone amiss, and he was only tolerating with decent civility the courtesies shown him. He declined to dismount in the city, and continued the ride in circuit to Palermo again. The cavalry, constituting the principal body of the troops, in the Gaucho dress of red flannel shirts and cheripas, white cotton pantalets, and red caps worn à la brigand, had all the appearance of so many wild Arabs, clothed in red in place of white. They were barefooted, and unshaven and unshorn; and varied in complexion, from the red and white of the Saxon, here and there, to the jet of Congo. Four hours were occupied by the procession in passing a single point; though the cavalry, towards the close, rode at full charge, when, especially, they bore an aspect as wild as that of the desert itself. General Lopez, the Governor or President of the Province of Corrientes, second to Urquiza in command, appeared in full military costume, as did Baron Caxias, chief of the Brazilian division. Both were magnificently mounted.
The booming of cannon from various points was heard during this triumphal march through the city; and a stationary band in front of the cathedral played at intervals, as the regimental bands, one after another, passed beyond hearing. In the evening, the arcades surrounding the eastern and southern sides of the Plaza, the cabildo or town hall fronting it on one side, the cathedral at one corner, and the monument of victory in the centre, were illuminated; and for an hour and more, there was a good display of fireworks. The remaining days of the week were proclaimed holidays, and the decorations in flags, the illuminations, and music at night were continued.
Two days ago, a grand Te Deum, in commemoration of the overthrow of Rosas, was celebrated in the cathedral, in presence of Urquiza and of the newly appointed provisional government; the officers of the allied armies; and of all the dignitaries of the church. An immense crowd was brought together by the interest of the occasion itself, and by the spectacle presented in so large an assemblage of persons of official rank and power. The ordinary services were accompanied by a rhapsody in the form of a sermon, delivered by a young ecclesiastic, who, from having been chosen for orator on such an occasion, must have some pretension to talent and eloquence. I have seen a copy of his discourse in Spanish, and will give a hasty translation of some of its passages which throw light upon the popular view of the public character and government of Rosas; and give proof also of the adulations showered upon the Conqueror. The address occupied more than an hour in the delivery, and is at least a curiosity as a sermon. The text from the Vulgate, was announced in Latin, and was the opening verse of the song of Moses after the destruction of the Egyptians in the Red Sea:
“Let us sing unto the Lord, for he hath triumphed gloriously:
The horse and his rider hath he thrown into the sea.”
The introduction, written in Dellacruscan style, and delivered with the action of the stage, consists of all manner of apostrophes—to the Plata, to Liberty, to Peace, to the Argentines, and to the Virgin Mary, for aid in the office of his ministry. Two general points are then presented,—one the duty of thanksgiving for a deliverance from evil; the other of thanksgiving for blessings conferred. Under the first he institutes a parallel between the rejoicings of Rome on the fall of Nero, and of those due from Buenos Ayreans on the overthrow of Rosas: thus—“Tell me, was it right for the Romans, adorning themselves with garlands of flowers and clothed with gladness, to hail with hallelujahs the jubilee of their deliverance; to throw open their temples and offer incense to their gods in testimony of their gratitude, when they saw the dead body of the most barbarous of their sovereigns—that monster, whose cruelty was not satiated with the blood even of his own mother, and whose corruption made him regardless of the most sacred obligations of the marriage tie? Was it not right, I say, that the Roman people should hymn songs of thankfulness before the altars of their gods, in view of the still palpitating remains of Nero, that impersonation of cruelty, who, seated on a mount, instead of weeping like the prophets over the destruction of the capital set on fire by himself, rejoiced in the death-shrieks of its inhabitants? I do not believe, gentlemen, that any of you condemn this conduct of the Romans—do I say condemn? I know that you justify, you praise, you applaud it; and if it was right, if it was laudable, if it was praiseworthy in the Romans gratefully to acknowledge, and joyfully to give thanks to their gods for a deliverance from the tyranny of Nero, is it not equally so in us Argentines to offer to the true God the incense of our praise for liberating us from the despotism of Rosas—that tyrant, that wild beast, that scandal of our nation, that shame upon humanity, that scourge of society and of religion, that minotaur, more thirsty for blood than him of Crete who fed on human victims? Yes! all of you will confess that it is just—and the more just as he was more cruel than even Nero. How more so? Can it be possible that there ever was a man as cruel as he, much less more so? Sirs, the lengthened series of eighteen hundred years did not, indeed, produce such a man: but the epoch of the barbarous Dictator of the Argentine Republic had not yet arrived. The nineteenth century, great in all its aspects in the annals of ages, was to be conspicuous by the production of this monster of cruelty. Yes, gentlemen, he was not only as cruel, but more cruel than the oppressor of the Romans.
“Let us make the comparison. But first, Argentines, rise from the places you occupy—rise, and make haste to close the temple doors that no foreigner come in; and if any such should already have entered, supplicate them to retire, that they hear not of the horrors perpetrated by a son of our soil. Yes! rise, hasten quick, fly! But why? Alas! oh sorrow!—stay! stay! it is too late: the clamorous echo of the cry raised by his cruelty has resounded to the ends of the earth. I retract my call, and beg you, Argentines, to fly—yes, fly to the portals of the temple: but let it be to open them widely from side to side, that entrance may be given to the inhabitants of the whole world—if it were possible, of the entire universe—to be witnesses of our reclamation, and hear the protest we solemnly make in the presence of the heavens and of the earth, before the altars of our God: Neighboring Republics! Foreign nations! all ye people of the earth! know, and transmit to your descendants from age to age that the children of the Plata repudiate this monster; we despoil him of the prerogatives of an Argentine; we banish him from our fatherland; and by the unanimous vote of the entire Republic, sentence him to wander from place to place, and from land to land; and, like Cain the fratricide, to carry the mark of his crime branded on his brow, that his own ignominy may be the expiation of his transgressions.
“Yes! I again say, Rosas was more cruel than Nero. Let us analyze the facts in the case. Why is Nero represented in history as the greatest tyrant among sovereigns? Hear Tacitus: ‘He was,’ says the historian, ‘the assassin of his mother, of his brother, of his tutor, and of an immense number of Christians. He set Rome on fire.’ What horrors! and the tyrant of the Argentines, did he perpetrate such enormities? Some of them he did—others he did not. But the credit of omitting to perpetrate those which he did not commit is to be attributed to a dissimilarity of circumstances, not to a difference in moral principle. Rosas did not sacrifice his mother, but it was because she did not threaten to deprive him of his power. He did not sacrifice his brothers, because none of them attempted to snatch from him the reins of government: or if they did, they fled beyond his reach. He did not sacrifice his tutor, because he never had one; but he had an instructor in political economy and a patron in his early public career, and him he did assassinate. Oh! sad remembrance! Sirs, you all know the horrible death of Maza, President of the House of Representatives,—that noble patriot and good man, who was murdered in the very temple of the laws: not in its vestibule, but in the very sanctum sanctorum!
“And did Rosas sacrifice a large number of Christians? Alas! would I were not under the necessity of answering this question. Well then—I will not do it; but answer for me, ye numerous auditors who listen to me. Speak, ye many widows, whose hearts, as ye listen to my words, are broken with sorrow—let the tears speak with which you have been fed till the present day. Speak, ye fathers, who still pour out your grief in sighs upon your children’s tombs. Speak, ye numerous orphans, who, while embracing with kisses the fathers of your love, have suddenly beheld them expire beneath the point of the dagger! Do thou, O city of Buenos Ayres—do thou speak: and speak every province, speak every town, speak every family of the Republic! Oh, thou year of 1840! O fatal epoch! What days of darkness, what days of mourning, what days of tears! your memory will forever embitter our existence. Ah! yes—in every street, in every house, in every room, we then stumbled over some victim—innocent victim, for, to be innocent was, in the eyes of that wicked one, the greatest of crimes. Humanity is horrified by the frightful truth! The story seems like a fable, but we ourselves are witnesses to the facts. Had the blood which was then shed, been mingled with the waters of the mighty river rolling beside us, they would have reddened to crimson. Death itself seemed exhausted in the execution of such cruelty; and the dead themselves, could they speak, would exclaim, ‘How horrible!’
“And were they Christians only that he immolated? Nero did not slay his priests; at least, history does not say that he attempted it. And Rosas, did he? Ah! that tyrant not only attempted it, but placed the seal upon the record of his impieties in the blood of the anointed of the Lord. That blood still cries to Heaven for vengeance, and like the infernal furies, will follow and torment the guilty criminal.
“And Rosas? did he burn the city? Would he had destroyed it rather than have prolonged our martyrdom. But in this there would have been too much humanity for him. His object was to protract our agony the better to enjoy the misery.
“Finally, what were the articles of Nero’s religious faith? You all know that he was a Pagan—how then could it be strange that he should persecute his adversaries? And Rosas, was he likewise a Pagan? Would that he had been!—that he had been so openly! His wickedness was not so great that he did not call himself a Catholic. Ah! unhappy man, thou art accountable for the abuses introduced to the church; for thou, like another Henry VIII. of England, didst constitute thyself the priest, and the bishop, and the Pope of the Republic. If there has been demoralization in society, thou art accountable to the Great Judge for it; for thou hast interfered with the most sacred rights of religion, education, and laws; and for twenty years hast set back the civilization of the Republic, and made the relentless knife the only inducement to excel. But, it is enough! Thanks to the valiant, the all-powerful Urquiza! the country now reposes in tranquillity: we are free from the despotism of the odious tyrant.
“And is it not right that we should be thankful to the Almighty for the benefits received at his hands? We have attained our liberty. Oh! incomparable good! Oh! gift of inestimable value! And to whom shall we give our thanks, if not to Thee, O Father of mercies?—to whom if not to Thee, O Giver of all joy. To Thee, therefore, O Fountain of all felicity, we give thanks! But likewise to thy name, O great Urquiza! to thee, whose name will be immortal; to thee our gratitude will be eternal, and the echo of our acknowledgments will be heard, even to the ends of the earth. The heart of every Argentine will be a temple from which thou wilt receive the sweet incense of our affection; and tradition will for ever transmit to our descendants the name of him who has restored to us our liberties. Most excellent sir, we salute thee as the morning star of the happy day of freedom that has dawned upon our country. We acclaim thee as our Washington! The Washington of the Argentine Republic! What a glory for you, sir! Argentines! I call your attention to your deliverer: fix your gaze on that bold champion. Let your modesty, sir, suffer me in the transports of my gratitude to express the sentiments of my heart. Yes, Argentines, fix again, I say, your gaze on that brave warrior. See you those scintillating eyes beaming with humanity? they have suffered prolonged vigils for your liberty. Behold that capacious brow—even yet bronzed by the suns of the camp! it has been absorbed in the profoundest meditations for your liberty! Do you perceive those features full of expressions of goodness? they have suffered the rigors of heat and the inclemencies of the seasons for your liberty. Witness ye that elevated and finely modelled breast, the temple of a magnanimous heart? It has been exposed to the bullet and the lance of the tyrant, for your liberty. Do you observe the nervous arm and powerful hand, so well known in battle? they have wielded the sword valiantly for your liberty: yes, for our liberty, he voluntarily renounced his sleep, to give his mind, day and night, to deep thought; for our liberty, he sacrificed his own comfort and well-being; for our liberty he hazarded his life! For our liberty he has suffered hunger, thirst, and conflicts; and to achieve it, impetuous rivers have appeared to him but smooth rivulets, enormous deserts like populous plains, the longest marches but short excursions, and the greatest obstacles the merest trifles. What courage! what heroism! what patriotism!
“What fortune is ours, Argentines, to have a man of so much excellence, in him whom Providence has sent to liberate us, and give to us the guarantee of a constitutional government. Eternal Father, God of all goodness, what thanksgiving shall we render to Thee for this evidence of Thy mercy?”
With this fulsome rhapsody, terminates the second act of the political drama of the Plata.