HISTORY
The discovery of Uruguay—Reception by the Indians—Juan de Solis and his fate—Navigation of the River Plate—Serrano and Magellanes—Rivalry between Spaniards and Portuguese—The first settlement in the Banda Oriental—Aggressive tactics of the Indians—Forts destroyed by them—Colonisation under difficulties—The introduction of cattle—A prophetic move—Intervention of the missionaries—Jesuit settlements established—Uruguay's isolation comes to an end—Influence of the livestock—Cattle-raiders—The first Portuguese invasion—Victory of the Spaniards, assisted by native auxiliaries—Treaties and their attendant troubles—The indecision of Old Spain—Partial extermination of the Indians—The town of Colonia as a bone of contention—Introduction of the first negro slaves into the provinces of the River Plate—Unrest on the Spanish main—Moreau, the buccaneer—The fate of his expedition—Portuguese invaders expelled by the Spaniards—A fort is constructed on the present site of Montevideo.
The early history of Uruguay needs but cursory recapitulation, since its episodes form part and parcel of the general discovery of the River Plate. Juan Diaz de Solis, the famous explorer of the great river, was the first leader in the Spanish service to set foot on Uruguayan soil. The precise point of his disembarkation is unknown, but it is certain enough that the spot lay somewhere just to the north of the island of Martin Garcia. His reception at the hands of the hostile Charrúa Indians, who at the time inhabited the district, was fatally inhospitable. Solis and many more of the landing party of fifty who accompanied him were slain by these natives almost as soon as they had landed, and the disheartened expedition returned to Spain.
It is supposed that Rodriguez Serrano was the first to sail the waters of the Uruguay River proper. In 1520, when anchored in the mouth of the River Plate on his way to the South, Magellane is supposed to have sent this subordinate of his some distance up the Uruguay. There is much, however, that is vague in the history of these particular waterways at this time. A certain material reason obtained for the mystery. The rivalry between the Spaniards and Portuguese tended towards a concealment on the part of each of discoveries that affected comparatively unknown and debatable areas. Thus there is no doubt that various Portuguese expeditions sailed the Uruguay River at this period; but the details of these are uncertain.
In 1527 Spain, fearing the possibilities of Portuguese influence, turned her attention once more to the great river system of the South. It was in that year that Cabot founded the fort of San Sebastian on the Uruguayan coast. This, at the confluence of the San Salvador River with the Uruguay, was the first Spanish settlement in the country. Its existence was short-lived. Attacked by the Charrúa Indians in 1529, the fort was destroyed and many of its garrison slain.
After this little was heard of the Uruguayan coast until, in 1552, Irala, the famous Governor of the River Plate, ordered Captain Juan Romero to found a settlement on that shore. Juan Romero set out with an expedition of 120 men, and founded the settlement of San Juan at the mouth of the river of the same name. This attempt was likewise unsuccessful. The Charrúas had to be reckoned with, and two years later the place was abandoned on account of their incessant attacks.
INDIAN MACE HEADS.
INDIAN STONE AXE.
To face p. 38.
In 1573 another noted conquistador, Zarate, on the completion of his voyage from Europe, arrived at the island of San Gabriel. He founded a settlement on the neighbouring Uruguayan mainland, and the Charrúas for once received him with comparative hospitality. Nevertheless it was not long ere hostilities broke out, by reason of the Spaniard's own arrogance, it is said. In the end the Europeans were completely defeated by the famous chief Zapicán, losing over one hundred soldiers and various officers. The Spaniards then retired to the island of San Gabriel, leaving the aboriginal tribe in possession of the new township, which they immediately destroyed.
A short while after this Juan de Garay, afterwards famed as the founder of the modern Buenos Aires, arrived near the scene of the disaster. With a diminutive force (it is said by some that his expedition comprised no more than twelve cavalry and twenty-two infantry) he attacked Zapicán's army of a thousand men. The result was the rout of the Indians, in the course of which Zapicán and many other leading caciques perished. This action was fought in the neighbourhood of ruined San Salvador, and Zarate founded a new settlement on the ruins of the old. Triumph, however, was short-lived, for the Indians remained as fiercely persevering as ever, and three years later their aggressive tactics caused the establishment to be abandoned once again.
In 1603 it is said that Hernando Arias de Saavedra, the first colonial-born Governor of the River Plate, led an expedition of five hundred men against the Charrúas. Hernandarias, by which name the Governor was popularly known, was a famous warrior of whose prowess and feats of arms much is told. For all that, according to report, the defeat of the Spanish force was so complete that only Hernandarias, thanks to his tremendous personal strength, escaped from the field alive. It is probable, however, that this version of the fight is, to say the least of it, exaggerated.
The next move of Hernandarias in the direction of the Banda Oriental was of a more pacific nature. With a rare touch of wisdom and foresight he shipped from Buenos Aires to Colonia across the river one hundred head of cattle, and a like number of horses and mares. These, sent adrift to roam at their own sweet will in the new country, multiplied at least as fast as had been anticipated. The animals in question undoubtedly stand as the nucleus of the pastoral riches of to-day. Thus Hernandarias sent out wealth to the land that was closed to his men in order that it should seed and multiply until the time came for the European to take it over with the country itself.
In this earlier era of River Plate history the march of civilisation had been arrested at the first step in Uruguay on each occasion on which it had been undertaken. It was not until the beginning of the seventeenth century that success attended the endeavours of the Spaniards. In 1618 the first missionaries entered Uruguay. The Franciscan fathers Bernardo de Guzman, Villavicencio, and Aldao landed in that year at the mouth of the Rio, and converted to Christianity many members of the more peaceably disposed tribes. In 1624 Bernardo de Guzman founded the first Uruguayan Jesuit settlement, Santo Domingo de Soriano, and a little later the missions of Espinillo, Viboras, and Aldao were established in the present provinces of Soriano and Colonia. Larger and more important missions were shortly afterwards founded in the north, and formed a more or less integral portion of the great Jesuit field in Paraguay. At one time there were no less than thirty-seven of these stations existing within the frontiers of the old Banda Oriental as they were then defined. In consequence of the later Brazilian encroachments, however, the sites of only seven of these—San Francisco de Borga, San Nicolas, San Juan Bautista, San Luis Gonzaga, San Miguel, San Lorenzo, and Santa Angel—lie within the boundaries of the present Republic.
While in the north of Uruguay the Indians, taught by the missionaries, were now beginning to occupy themselves with agriculture and grazing, in the south the herds introduced by Hernandarias were multiplying amazingly. These were responsible for the visits of many who came over from Argentina to slay the cattle and to collect their hides. They were licensed by the Cabildo of Buenos Aires, who received a third of the profits. In order to facilitate this traffic in hides, these Faeneros, as they were termed, gradually established themselves upon the banks of the Uruguay and its tributaries, and upon the ocean coast. Thus the names of Cufré, Pavón, Toledo, Pando, Solis, Maldonado, and many others have been bequeathed to the soil by the merchant adventurers who trafficked in those spots, since each named his settlement after himself.
No little competition was afforded these Faeneros by the Changadores, adventurers of a more reckless order who made their incursions into the country without licence and against the law. Corresponding precisely to the buccaneers of the farther north, they slew where opportunity offered, taking refuge in Brazil when pursued, until their growing numbers enabled them from time to time to offer armed resistance to the officers of the Crown sent to chastise them. Attracted by this commerce, pirates, whether of Portuguese or other nationality, would occasionally make descents, and would raid and harry the cattle in their turn. The Indians, for their part, were not slow in availing themselves of this new and convenient source of livelihood, and, according to a Uruguayan writer became "carnivorous from necessity and equestrian from force of imitation." In 1680 a more serious danger threatened the Banda Oriental. At the beginning of that year a Portuguese fleet came to anchor off the island of San Gabriel. Eight hundred soldiers and a number of colonist families were disembarked at Colonia del Sacramento on the mainland, where they founded a township. On learning of this invasion the Governor of Buenos Aires, José de Garro, immediately demanded the evacuation of the place. As a reply to this request, Lobo, the Portuguese commander, triumphantly produced a map on which Colonia was represented as in Brazilian territory. A strenuous geographical discussion ensued, at the conclusion of which Garro, having failed to convince the intruders of the inaccuracy of the chart by more subtle arguments, resolved to expel the enemy by force.
With this end in view he obtained the loan of three thousand Indians from the Jesuits, who were by this time becoming accustomed to the lending of men and arms for such patriotic purposes. With this force, stiffened by the presence of three hundred Spaniards, he captured the hostile settlement, taking prisoners the Portuguese Governor and garrison.
It is related that the Spanish general had prepared a striking ruse de guerre that was to serve in this assault. Four thousand loose horses were to be driven to the front of the charging forces, and upon these animals the first devastation of the artillery fire of the defenders was to expend itself. The Indians, however, whose destined place was in the vanguard, raised some powerful objections to this scheme of attack. Considering with reason that a backward rush of the wounded and terrified beasts—like that of the elephants of a previous age—would promise greater disaster to themselves than to the enemy, they protested against the living bulwark with its many possibilities. Thus the town was captured without the aid of the horses, and the first of the many combats that reddened the shore of Colonia ended in favour of Spain.
This triumph was short-lived. In 1681 Carlos II. of Spain in a weak moment signed a treaty by which Colonia was given back to Portugal, to be held by her until a definite decision could be arrived at concerning the vexed question of ownership. In the meanwhile it was arranged that the geographical arguments should be settled by the pontifical authorities, whose expert knowledge upon the point was doubtful. The Portuguese, moreover, in order to obtain an added salve to their dignity, stipulated that Garro should be deprived of his post. This was complied with; but the result did not in the least coincide with the Portuguese expectations. Garro himself must have smiled broadly when he learned that he was deprived of his command at Buenos Aires in order to take over the superior governorship of Chile!
In 1702 a campaign was waged against the Indians. The tactics of the majority of the tribes had remained consistently aggressive, and their predatory interest in the commerce of hides and dried meat had developed to a pitch inconvenient to the settlers. The war, although its scope did not include the entire aboriginal population, was one of extermination so far as it went, and at its conclusion the sections of the Charrúas, Bohanes, and Yaros in the neighbourhood of the River Yi had practically ceased to exist.
In the meanwhile Colonia, in the hands of the Portuguese, had become the centre of contraband operations by means of which merchandise was smuggled into the sternly closed port of Buenos Aires. As a point of vantage it served so admirably for this purpose, and so greatly to the profit of both the Portuguese and of the more unscrupulous residents of Buenos Aires, that in 1705 Philip V. of Spain ordered its recapture in earnest.
For this purpose two thousand Spaniards and four thousand Jesuit Indians assembled. After a six months' strenuous siege of the place the Portuguese garrison fled in a fleet that had been sent to their rescue, and Colonia passed back into the hands of the Spaniards. But the vicissitudes of the spot were not yet at an end. Oblivious of the past, Philip V. by the Treaty of Utrecht in 1713 ceded the town to the Portuguese. Garcia Ros, the Governor of Buenos Aires, was of sterner mould. Taking advantage of a loosely worded clause in the treaty, he limited the Portuguese ownership of the soil to the radius of a cannon-shot from the plaza of the town. By this means the inconvenience of the occupation was to a certain extent neutralised.
A GAUCHO RACE: THE START.
A GAUCHO RACE: THE FINISH.
To face p. 44.
About this time negro slaves were first introduced from Africa into the provinces of the River Plate. This measure had been originally urged by the famous Father Bartolomé de las Casas with a view of augmenting the local force of labour, and thus of alleviating the condition of the aboriginal races that in many parts were becoming exterminated on account of the excess of toil imposed upon them. This state of affairs, as a matter of fact, did not obtain in the Banda Oriental, where Indian and Spaniard stood entirely apart. Nevertheless an influx of negroes occurred in the province, and—though nothing can be said in favour of the morality of the proceeding—there is no doubt that, once arrived, their presence tended to benefit the industries of the land.
The period now was one of considerable unrest throughout the Spanish main. For some while the adventurers of other nations, seeking a share in the great riches of the South American provinces, had been knocking loudly at the gates that remained closely barred to them. Privateering and raids upon the coast had become more and more frequent, while the Spanish galleons, in continuous dread of attack, only put to sea for the purpose of long voyages in imposing numbers and beneath weighty escort. The River Plate, owing to the practical absence of the mineral traffic from its frontier, suffered far fewer depredations than fell to the lot of the gold and silver bearing countries to the north.
Yet the homelier riches of the pastoral districts were becoming known and appreciated to a certain extent. In consequence of this the waters of the River Plate from time to time had many unwelcome visitors. Privateers of all nationalities, although their enforced ignorance of the navigation forbade them to penetrate for any distance up the waters of the great streams themselves in the face of local opposition, harassed the coast-line, and occasionally landed in more or less formidable parties. One of the most notable of these was a French adventurer of the name of Moreau, whose buccaneering ideas were considerably in advance of those of the majority who were wont to harry these particular districts. Moreau's plan of campaign, in fact, savoured rather of regular warfare than of the more usual methods of the rapid raidings and retreats. Thus in 1720 he disembarked with a body of men and four cannon at Maldonado, where he fortified himself, and began to amass a great store of hides. Surprised by the Spaniards, he was forced to take to his ships in haste, with the loss of his guns and of his stock-in-trade. A few months later the Frenchman returned, accompanied this time by a force of over a hundred well-armed men, and prepared to settle himself for an extended stay in the country. Curiously enough, it appears to have been the unfortunate Moreau's fate to reverse the fighting rôles of the buccaneer and local resident, since, instead of surprising others, it was he who was caught unawares on either occasion. The termination of his second visit was more fatal than that of his first. Attacked when in an unprepared condition by the Spaniards, the defeat of the buccaneer force was complete. Moreau himself was slain, together with the greater part of his company, while the remainder were taken prisoners.
Freed from this source of danger, the inhabitants of the Banda Oriental were not long left without anxiety on another head. The Portuguese had never ceased to covet the rich land that might be made to serve as such a valuable and temperate pendant to their torrid northern areas. The River Plate stood to them in the light of a Rhine, and at the end of 1723 they awoke once more into aggressive activity. An expedition then left Rio de Janeiro consisting of four ships with three hundred soldiers. The force sailed to the point where the town of Montevideo now stands, at that time a lonely spot whose commercial and strategic importance was then for the first time discovered. Here the expedition landed, and in a short while its leaders had negotiated with the natives whom they found in the district, had supplied them with arms, and had founded a settlement. On learning of this aggression the Buenos Aires authorities determined to resist the attempt in earnest. Gavala, the Spanish Governor, collected a powerful fleet, and sailed in haste to the spot. The Portuguese, ascertaining the strength of the attacking force, abandoned their new settlement, and made off to the north without awaiting its arrival. Gavala then took possession of Montevideo in turn, and took measures in order to prevent a repetition of the incident. To this end he constructed a powerful battery on the spot, and supplied the fort with a garrison of a hundred Spanish troops, and with a thousand native auxiliaries.
[CHAPTER III]
HISTORY—continued
Founding of the city of Montevideo—Its first inhabitants—Inducement offered to colonists—The early days of the town—Successful rising of the Indians in the neighbourhood—Victory of the natives—Montevideo saved by Jesuit intervention—The Portuguese invade the northern provinces—The first Governor of Montevideo—Treaties and territorial cessions—Dissatisfaction of Jesuit Indians—Their defeat by combined Spanish and Portuguese forces—Vicissitudes of Colonia—The danger of hostile residents—A concentration camp of the old days—Expulsion of the Jesuits—Some incidents of the wars with the Portuguese—The foundation of urban centres—The English occupy themselves with the whaling industry on the coast—Discouragement of the enterprise by the King of Spain—A corps of Blandengues is created—The British invasion—Political effects of the occupation—The war of independence—Montevideo as the seat of the Spanish viceroyalty—Commencement of the agitation for freedom in Uruguay.
On the 24th of December, 1726, was founded the city proper of Montevideo. Its inception was sufficiently modest. Indeed, the spot commenced its urban existence on a human diet of seven families translated from Buenos Aires for the purpose. A little later twenty families were brought from the Canary Islands to add to the humble population. It is not a little curious to read how, even in those early days, the spirit of colonial enterprise was already manifest in the way that is now considered most up-to-date. Intending immigrants to Montevideo were each offered free transport from Buenos Aires, plots in the city and holdings in the Campo, two hundred head of cattle, one hundred sheep, and free cartage of building material. They were offered, beyond, tools, agricultural implements, and a remission of taxes for a certain period. The whole savours strongly of a modern immigration department. In any case, the inducements offered were considerable.
Two years after its foundation Montevideo received an important reinforcement of citizens, when thirty families from the Canary Islands and from Galicia were introduced into the place. Thus the small town was already beginning to make its mark upon the surrounding country, and at the end of 1728 it could count over two hundred inhabitants, four hundred troops, and a thousand Indians employed principally in the works of fortification. A couple of years later it was deemed worthy of a corporation.
Nevertheless, in this very year the growing settlement all but came to a bloody and untimely end. A rising of the Charrúa Indians in the immediate neighbourhood of Montevideo resisted all the efforts made to subdue it. Over one hundred Spaniards were slain and the royal forces put to rout. The natives, drunk with success, were on the eve of entering Montevideo and of slaughtering the inhabitants, when a Jesuit missionary, Padre Herán, intervened, and prevailed on the Indians to desist from their purpose.
Scarcely had this danger passed when another, and remoter, came into being to take its place. The restless Portuguese having given peace to the Banda Oriental for ten years, doubtless considered the period unduly prolonged, and thus invaded the Rio Grande on the northern frontier. Lavala's successor, Don Miguel de Salcedo, a ruler as impotent as the first had been strong, contented himself with besieging Colonia as a counter-stroke, while the Portuguese forces were left free to complete the conquest of Rio Grande. This they continued to hold, despite the terms of an armistice arranged in 1737 between Spain and Portugal.
For ten years after this no historical event of importance occurred to disturb the progress of Uruguay. In 1747 a rising of the Indians was utterly crushed at Queguay, and two years later Montevideo, now acknowledged as a town of importance, was accorded a Governor of its own. Don José Joaquin de Viana was the first appointed to the post. His opinion of its urgency is evident from the fact that he only took office in 1751.
By the treaty of 1750 King Ferdinand VI. of Spain ceded to Portugal the northern stretches comprising the Jesuit Missions of Uruguay and the present province of Rio Grande in exchange for Colonia. As a stroke of commercial diplomacy the bargain was undoubtedly a failure, since by its means Spain not only lost for ever two flourishing provinces, but, in addition, the Jesuits and their Indians were obliged to forsake the field of their labours, and to migrate in search of fresh country.
This, however, was not the case with all alike. A large number of the Indians, deeply attached to the neighbourhoods wherein lay their homes, refused to follow the missionaries, and in the end resisted the unwelcome decree. Pitted against the combined forces of Buenos Aires, Uruguay, and Brazil, their cause had not a momentary chance of success. After suffering various defeats, they were finally routed and almost exterminated at Caaibate in 1756, when the native loss amounted to 154 prisoners and 1,200 dead, at the very moderate Spanish cost of 4 dead and 41 wounded. The character of the action is sufficiently evident from the butcher's bill. A certain number of the surviving Indians were taken to Maldonado, and, settling there, formed the nucleus of the present town.
In the meanwhile Colonia, whose inhabitants by this time must have been rendered giddy by the continuous substitution of bunting, had again passed into the possession of the Portuguese. The recurrence of war between these and the Spaniards gave Pedro de Ceballos, an able and energetic Governor of Buenos Aires, an opportunity to act. In 1762 he surprised Colonia, captured it, and was in the act of invading the ceded territory of Rio Grande when the Treaty of Paris came inopportunely into being to stay him in his path of conquest, and to give back Colonia, that bone of contention, to the Portuguese once more.
This occurred in 1763, and Ceballos was powerless to struggle further against a fate that caused victory to be followed by the loss of provinces. Nevertheless, he took various measures towards the preservation of the remaining territory. One of the most important of these was concerned with the numerous Portuguese families that were settled along the eastern frontier of the country. Having reason to believe that these were hatching further warlike schemes in conjunction with the authorities across the border, Ceballos caused them to be taken south, and to be collected together in a small settlement in the neighbourhood of Maldonado, where they could remain under the watchful eye of the Uruguayan officials.
In 1767 the expulsion of the Jesuits from South America by King Carlos III. of Spain proved of no little moment to the Banda Oriental, since many of the Indians, wandering shepherdless and at a loss, came southwards, and became part and parcel of Uruguay. It was by means of twelve of these Indian families that the city of Paysandú, amongst several others, was founded, while the fields of Montevideo and Maldonado derived many new cultivators from this source.
It was but a very few years later that the trouble with the Portuguese broke out once again. Indeed, it would seem that indulgence in border feud had now become an ineradicable habit on the part of both sides. By the year 1774 the inhabitants of Brazil had once again passed over the north-western frontier, and had spread themselves over the country in such numbers as to render their presence a menace to Uruguay. In order to remedy the situation, Vertiz, the Governor of Buenos Aires, crossed from Buenos Aires to Montevideo, from which city he sallied out northwards with an army of four thousand men. Meeting with the Portuguese forces in the neighbourhood of the Santa Tecla range, he routed them and pursued them as far as the River Yacuy, depriving them of the lands they had usurped.
On the return of Vertiz to Buenos Aires, Portuguese aggression burst forth once again. Advancing from the east this time, they were repulsed in an attack on the town of San Pedro; but in 1776, returning with an army of two thousand men, they captured the place and possessed themselves of the district. The inevitable counter-stroke on the part of the Spaniards was to follow. Indeed, the scale of the struggle waxed steadily with the growth of the respective countries. Brazil was already the seat of a viceroyalty, and immediately after this last invasion the provinces of the River Plate were raised to the same status. Ceballos, then on a visit to Spain, was created first Viceroy, and was dispatched from Cadiz with a powerful fleet and with over nine thousand troops to avenge the incursion.
RUINED COLONIA.
ARTIGAS' MONUMENT.
To face p. 52.
With such forces as these at his disposal the task of Ceballos was an easy one. The Island of Santa Catalina was captured without a blow, and that bone of contention, Colonia, surrendered perforce after a few days of siege. Above its walls for the fifth time the flag of Spain was hoisted afresh. On this occasion the ill-omened place was destined to pay for the memories of the past, and its walls suffered in place of the garrison. In order to remove temptation from the minds of the northern enemy, Ceballos razed the elaborate fortifications to the ground and destroyed the more pretentious houses, amongst these being some of the best architectural specimens of the River Plate.
Having effected this, Ceballos was passing northwards with the intention of bringing back the Rio Grande Province once more within the fold of Buenos Aires, when his march was stopped by the news of another of those treaties between the mother-countries that seemed to materialise with unfailing regularity at moments so ill-timed for the interests of the Spanish colonies. By the terms of this Spain was left with the mines of Colonia, while the Island of Santa Catalina and the greater part of Rio Grande were ceded definitely to Portugal.
After this ensued an exceptionally lengthy era of peace, which was marked by the immigration of many families from Galicia and from the Canary Islands, and by the foundation of numerous towns, amongst these latter Canelones, Piedras, Rosario, Mercedes, Pando, Santa Lucia, San José, and Minas. As to the capital itself, by the year 1788 Montevideo had become a fairly important place, and could count a population of 6,695 Spaniards, 1,386 negro slaves, 562 liberated negroes, and 715 half-castes and Indians. A few years later the population was much augmented by the introduction of important numbers of negro slaves, a traffic that continued intermittently until 1825, when its continuance was prohibited by law.
At the end of the century an industry was initiated that might have led to important commercial results but for the action of the Spanish home authorities. The waters off the coast of Maldonado had long been famed as a whaling-ground, and at this period permission was given to the Englishmen engaged in the traffic to found establishments both at this place and at Punta de la Ballena. The result was a rapid but fleeting prosperity at both these points, since after a while the attitude of the Court of Spain changed. Fearful of the influence of the English upon the Uruguayans, the authorities offered to the new colonists the option of becoming Roman Catholics and of swearing allegiance to the King of Spain, or of abandoning the settlement. The latter alternative was chosen by the whalers, and Maldonado and Punta de la Ballena, in consequence, sank back into the lethargy of industrial torpor. The instance is only one of the many in which the mother-country satisfied its conscience at the expense of its colony.
A corps of Blandengues, or Lancers, was formed in 1797, whose duties, beyond their military performances, were varied to a degree. Thus, in addition to the occasional brushes with the Indians that fell to their lot, they were employed as excise officials against the smugglers, as escorts of high officials, as ordinary police, and as official messengers. The corps was composed of picked men, and in its ranks served José Gervasio Artigas and José Rondeau, both bearers of names that were destined to become famous in Uruguayan history.
This body of cavalry was destined to be employed on active service very soon after its formation. In 1801 the Portuguese became active once more, and the first year of the new century was marked by their occupation of land in the north-west of the Banda Oriental. After various actions, Rondeau, with a force of Blandengues and dragoons, defeated the invaders and won back the greater part of the lost territory.
In 1806 occurred the first of the British invasions which, although materially fruitless in the end so far as our own country was concerned, were destined to influence the minds of the colonials and the future of the River Plate Provinces to a greater extent than is generally realised. The circumstances of the invasion that won to the British Crown for a very short while not only Montevideo, Maldonado, Colonia, and numerous lesser Uruguayan towns, but Buenos Aires in addition, afford bitter reading. Thanks to the colossal incapacity—to give his conduct no harder name—of the British Commander-in-Chief, General Whitlocke, the last troops of the British army of occupation had sailed away northwards from Montevideo by the beginning of September, 1807.
Although the matter ended for the British with the departure of the troops from the River Plate, the aftermath of the event took very definite shape in the Spanish colonies themselves. Not only had the inhabitants of the provinces learned their own power, but—more especially in the case of Montevideo—the seeds of commercial liberty had been sown amongst the local merchants and traders by the English men of business who had descended upon the place beneath the protection of the army. That the final leave-taking between the English and the Uruguayans should have been accompanied by actual cordiality and regrets is surely an astonishing circumstance that affords great credit to both sides. There can be no doubt, however, that this mutual esteem was in the first place fostered by an appreciation on the part of the residents of British laws and methods of trading.
Whether the germs thus left behind would have fructified so rapidly but for the chaotic condition of the mother-country is doubtful. As it was, scarcely had the smoke of these actions cleared away when it became necessary for the patriots of the River Plate Province to look once again to their primings in view of still more vital occurrences.
I do not propose to tell here the full story of the rebellion of the River Plate Provinces and of the revolution that ended in the complete overthrow of Spanish power in South America, since I have already roughly sketched these events elsewhere. So far as the main events are concerned, the transition from the colonial stage to the condition of independence was slower in the Banda Oriental than was the process upon the eastern bank of the great river. In Julio of 1810, when the Junta of Buenos Aires had already established itself to cast off the yoke of Spain, Montevideo still remained faithful to the mother-country, and rejected the advances of the Argentines.
Thus at the beginning of 1811 Montevideo found itself, if only for a short while, the seat of the viceroyalty of the La Plata Provinces, and from that point of vantage Elio, the Viceroy, declared war upon Buenos Aires. Almost immediately, however, the spirit of independence became manifest in Uruguay itself, and it is at this juncture that occurs the name that has perhaps stamped itself most deeply of all upon the history of the Banda Oriental.
[CHAPTER IV]
HISTORY—continued
The advent of Artigas—First revolutionary movements in Uruguay—The appointment of leaders—First successes of the Uruguayans—The germs of future jealousies—Montevideo besieged by the patriot forces—An incident of the investment—Spain appeals to Portugal for assistance—Invasion of Uruguay by the latter—The Buenos Aires Government concludes a treaty with the Spanish Viceroy—Raising of the siege of Montevideo—Position of Uruguay—Discontent of the Orientales—The exodus of the nation—Incidents of emigration to the Argentine shore—Montevideo in Spanish hands—The country overrun by Portuguese—Buenos Aires effects a treaty with the latter—Resumption of the campaign against the Spaniards—Disputes between the Argentine and Uruguayan leaders—Montevideo again besieged—Some battle incidents—Artigas reappears on the scene—Drastic measures towards an ally—A national Congress convened—Oriental deputies rebuffed by Buenos Aires—Artigas withdraws from the siege of Montevideo—Price set upon his head—War declared between Uruguay and Buenos Aires—The Argentine littoral provinces adhere to Artigas—Fall of Montevideo.
The personality of Artigas, the central figure of the Uruguayan revolutionary era, is fully described in a later chapter. It is necessary here, therefore, merely to give the record of historical occurrences, without laying stress on the individuality of the Oriental leader, a matter that is not easy of accomplishment, since the figure of Artigas seems to have dominated the field of action in whatever direction it lay.
Shortly after the outbreak of the revolution Artigas, who at the time was in the Spanish service, joined the patriot ranks after a violent quarrel with his brigadier. The Oriental fled across the river to Buenos Aires. Here he received a warm welcome, and was supplied with armed men and financial aid in order to foment the movement in his native country. Beyond this he received the official rank of lieutenant-colonel in the Army of Independence.
In the meanwhile the first stirrings of the war that was to come had already shaken Uruguay. With its capital, Montevideo, now the seat of the viceroyalty, the small province had remained more or less quiescent, lying, as it were, directly beneath the eye of Imperial Spain itself. But the awakening, when it occurred, was followed by a strenuous outbreak of activity. The first important rising took place at Paysandú, on the banks of the Uruguay River. This was crushed by the aid of the Spanish war vessels that lay in the stream. But the inhabitants, not in the least discouraged by this first check, rose again in greater numbers than before. A body of one hundred gauchos, ill-armed as it was, captured the town of Mercedes, and then, with augmented forces, marched on Soriano, which surrendered to them.
This success was the signal for a general rising throughout the country. At the beginning of 1811 the Spanish garrison found themselves in the midst of a definitely hostile population. From one frontier to another bodies of men were gathering together, forging weapons from agricultural tools, and arming themselves as best they could in order that they might take their share in the struggle for liberation that was already in active being. In March the towns of Maldonado, San Carlos, and Minas rose, and the country just to the east of Montevideo itself threw off the Spanish authority and came into possession of the insurrectionist companies.
On the 11th of April, 1811, Artigas returned to Uruguay in command of 150 men of the regiment of Patricios, and disembarked in the neighbourhood of that hub of all strife, Colonia. Here he was welcomed by a great number of armed countryfolk, who acclaimed him as chief of the Orientales. The movement now fairly under way, he established his headquarters at Mercedes. In the meanwhile the germ of future combinations had already been created by the appointment on the part of the Buenos Aires patriots of Rondeau as commander of the Uruguayans. Belgrano, first named for the post, had, disgraced, been deprived of it since his defeat by the Paraguayans.
Artigas's first collision with the royal forces occurred at Paso del Rey, the Spanish army being completely defeated. Reinforced by a second victorious column, under Benavidez, the Uruguayans followed up the retreating regulars, and forced them to surrender.
Artigas, the Jefe de los Orientales, had now at his disposal a force of over a thousand men. Meeting at Las Piedras with a royalist army of 1,230 men, the valour of the new levies was soon put to the test. Although the Spaniards possessed the advantage of artillery, they were in the end, after a desperate and prolonged fight that endured for half a dozen hours, defeated and forced to surrender.
The doings of the patriotic force came as a blow to the Spanish authorities at Montevideo. Urged by the first tremblings of the viceregal throne beneath him, Elio cast about him for an inducement to turn Artigas from his victorious course. To this end he sent messengers offering the chieftain a heavy monetary bribe to desert the patriot cause, and to take service again in the royalist cause. Whether any offering of any kind would have tempted Artigas is doubtful. But in any case the tender was eloquent of Elio's want of acquaintance with the Gaucho temperament, to which the possession of mere cash constitutes a matter of utter indifference. As it was, Artigas treated the offer with angry contempt.
The hour of the patriot leader's triumph was not without its sting. The battle of Las Piedras had won him the rank of colonel in the revolutionary forces, it is true; but Belgrano, after Suipacha, had risen to that of a general. And, although both the Buenos Aires Government and the official Gazette, using the soft soap of courtesy titles, referred continuously to Artigas by the honorary term of "General," the bitterness remained to give rise to future strife.
Three days after his victory Artigas marched to Montevideo, and laid siege to the headquarters itself of the Spanish régime. As a preliminary to the operation an exchange of prisoners, wounded and whole, was effected. Artigas then formally demanded the surrender of the garrison; Elio responded by various sorties, all of which were repulsed. The beginning of the siege was marked by a dramatic episode. Suspecting the revolutionary sympathies of some Franciscan monks domiciled in Montevideo, Elio decided to expel these from the city. The Franciscans were led through the streets with the utmost silence at the dead of night. Arrived at the gates, the officer in charge of the escort pointed with his sword at some sparks of light that twinkled faintly in the distance. "Go you with the butchers!" he commanded, and the priests passed out silently into the darkness to join the forces of Artigas. Their influence was doubtless exhilarating to the patriot cause, but there is no evidence to show that it was employed in the cause of mercy. A few days later forty Uruguayan families suffered a similar fate.
In the meanwhile Benavidez had laid siege to Colonia, the garrison of which, after a month's resistance, escaped by river to Montevideo. It was upon this latter place that the fortune of the Spanish dominion now hung. The scale of warfare was increasing in proportion to the importance of the issue. Shortly after the arrival of the reinforcements supplied by the Royalist fugitives from Colonia, Rondeau, in command of the Argentine troops, arrived to take charge of the attacking force, that now amounted to four thousand men. Artigas, now one amongst many, dropped in rank from commander to leader of horse.
Rondeau had contrived to drag two heavy guns to the spot, and with these he opened fire upon Montevideo. Galled by a continuous bombardment, Elio took a more desperate step than was justified even by his situation. Carlota, the Queen of Portugal and the sister of Ferdinand VII. of Spain, had been established in Rio de Janeiro since the invasion of the peninsula by the Napoleonic armies. To her the Viceroy, seeing the last foothold of power slipping from beneath him, sent an urgent message for assistance.
Ere the response to this appeal became evident the condition of the beleagured town had changed. Discouraged by the serious defeat at Huaqui of the army of Peru, the revolutionary leaders of Buenos Aires were already contemplating a retirement from before Montevideo, when the blow engineered by Elio took effect. A swarm of Portuguese, under command of General Diego de Souza, entered the Banda Oriental from the north with the purpose of overrunning the country. The Buenos Aires Government, appalled by the new turn that affairs had taken, made the utmost haste to conclude an armistice with Elio. By the terms of the treaty the patriot forces were to retire from Montevideo, and Spanish authority was to be recognised throughout Uruguay in exchange for the return of Souza's forces to Brazil. Thus Elio's unscrupulous move had succeeded for the time being, and the first siege of Montevideo came to an end. A month after its conclusion Elio retired to Spain. The command he had left was now no longer worthy of the highest rank, and the departed Viceroy was succeeded by Vigodet in the minor capacity of Captain-General.
Artigas had from the first bitterly opposed this treaty, by the terms of which the Orientales were to be left at the mercy of the Royalists. That he had right upon his side from his own point of view is undeniable, although it is difficult to see by what other means the Buenos Aires Government, caught between the Spaniards and the Brazilians, could have extricated themselves from their dilemma. The treaty once concluded, however, Artigas initiated a move that in itself proved the greatness of the man.
A general assembly of the patriotic Oriental families was sounded. Obedient to the call, they mustered in numbers that amounted to over thirteen thousand men, women, and children. Then followed the exodus, ordained by the stress of events, of which Artigas was the human instrument. Escorted by three thousand soldiers, the march of the families began. Carts filled with women and children, herds of cattle, troops of horses, companies of pack-mules, to say nothing of the riders themselves—the tragic procession toiled its long length northwards through the summer dust clouds struck up by the hoofs and feet from the crude earth roads. Mingled with the slowly advancing ranks, and lending still greater variety to the whole, went four hundred faithful Charrúa Indians, armed with bolas and spears.
Over the rolling hills of Uruguay struggled the human thread of emigrants. Death waited on the column in the shape of heat and hardship. But, though many children and many aged folk fell by the way, the great majority won through in safety to Salto, on the banks of the Uruguay; crossed the great river in boats, and took up their abode on the Argentine shore, awaiting with anxiety the hour that might permit their return to their native land.
In the meantime matters were passing from bad to worse in Uruguay. Once within its frontiers, the temptations of the promised land overcame any scruple on the part of the Portuguese concerning a too rigid adherence to the terms of the treaty. Under the convenient pretext of pacifying an already deserted country, Souza's army overran the smiling Campo, capturing towns and plundering where they might. The Spanish royalists, for their part, remained passive, and the sole opposition with which the Portuguese armies had to count was that rendered by the forces of Artigas, sent by him across the river. But, although they won a victory or two, the slender patriot bands were unable to stem the tide of invasion to any appreciable degree.
It is a little curious to remark what an endless wealth of complications appear to have attended every political move at this period. In this particular instance the introduction of a new element was productive of unexpected results. Thus, when the Buenos Aires Government, realising the gravity of the situation, proposed to send reinforcements to the assistance of Artigas, the move was checked by Elio, the Spanish commander, who, forgetful of the ties of blood, threatened to join cause with the Portuguese in the event of any such intervention. As an appropriate climax to the chaotic situation, the Buenos Aires powers turned to Paraguay for assistance. The latter, inclined to assent, began negotiation with Artigas direct, and, since the Argentine Government resented this slight upon its authority, and the negotiations themselves failed to fructify, the only outcome of importance was an increase in the mutual jealousies that already existed between Artigas and the Argentines.
Shortly after this, however, the tables were turned upon the Spaniards. An able stroke of diplomacy on the part of the famous Argentine, Belgrano, supported by British influence, resulted in a treaty with the Portuguese. Thus the Royalists, hoist by a second edition of their own petard, lay without allies at the mercy of the patriot forces.
Preparations for a fresh siege of Montevideo were at once begun. Don Manuel Sarratea, appointed Commander-in-Chief of the Argentine Army, marched to the Entre Rios shore to join his columns with those of Artigas. The inevitable jealousies between the Argentine and Oriental leaders came to a head almost immediately. Apart from a deep personal antagonism that separated the pair, a yet more potent reason made the rupture inevitable. Sarratea, representing the triumvirate of Buenos Aires, was determined to deal with Uruguay as a province of the new Republic of Argentina. Artigas, on the other hand, although willing to acknowledge the authority at Buenos Aires from a federal point of view, insisted upon the independence of the State.
It was in these circumstances that Sarratea descended upon Artigas's mixed camp of soldiers and Uruguayan emigrant families upon the banks of the Uruguay. The results of the meeting were soon evident. Artigas, complaining bitterly that Sarratea had seduced from his allegiance not only his troops but the civilian elements of the settlement, resigned his colonelcy, and separated his division from the Argentine forces. The troops now remaining to him numbered rather less than a thousand men, under the command of Otorgués, Rivera, and Manuel Artigas.
In the meanwhile Sarratea, anxious that the credit for the capture of Montevideo should fall to his lot, had dispatched a force under Rondeau to lay siege once again to the town of contention that represented the headquarters of the Royalists. Arriving at the spot, he found that his task had already been forestalled to a certain extent by an independent Oriental, José Eugenio Culta. The latter caudillo, spurred onwards by the numerous examples of reckless initiative offered by the period, had collected a band of three hundred Gauchos. With these kindred spirits he was busily occupied in harassing the garrison to no little purpose.
With the arrival of Rondeau, in October of 1812, the siege of the devoted city began on an imposing scale, the army employed for the purpose soon amounting to two thousand men. Destined to drag out its length for almost two years, the first few months of the siege were marked by two events of importance. Vigodet, having received reinforcements from Spain, made a vigorous sally on the last day of the year. At early dawn sixteen hundred men burst out from the gates of the city, surprising and routing the besieging forces as they went, until they won the summit of the Cerrito hill itself, the headquarters of the American forces. With the yellow and red of Spain flaunting from this the Royalists forgot all but their success, and expended their energies in a jubilation that cost them dear. For Rondeau, gathering together his fugitive troops with an amazing rapidity, fell like a thunderbolt upon the cheering crowd, whose joyful clamour turned to groans and death gasps as the stricken mass went reeling back into the city.
An event of still greater importance occurred during the first month of the following year. Sarratea himself then journeyed to the camp before Montevideo. But he had company behind that he could not have failed to regard with considerable unease. Notwithstanding his late check, Artigas still remained a power to be reckoned with. Indeed, his vitality had risen to the occasion; he had flung out his summons far and wide, and his power was now infinitely greater than before. Thus, when Sarratea set out for Montevideo, Artigas followed grimly in his wake, having now no mean instrument by means of which to assert his rights—an army of five thousand men.
Arriving on the heels of his enemy at the point of hostilities, Artigas was not slow to act. Taking full measure of his advantage, he sent peremptorily to Rondeau, demanding the immediate dismissal of Sarratea from his office of Commander-in-Chief. The order thus given to a subordinate to deal with his superior was quite in accordance with the spirit of the times.
As Rondeau, however, did not immediately comply, Artigas took a very simple measure by which to prove that he did not intend to ask in vain. His Gauchos dashed full gallop into Sarratea's camp, and drove off with them all the horses that they found within the establishment. Seeing that a Gaucho army, unhorsed, is as a collection of fish on dry land, the matter was definitely settled by the act. Sarratea retired with the best grace he could muster to Buenos Aires, Rondeau remained in command, and the Oriental and Argentine leaders sat down to continue the investment of Montevideo, one jealous eye of each upon his fellow-chief, the other fixed more casually upon the beleaguered town.
During the comparative lull in active hostilities that followed Artigas busied himself in the affairs of the State that he was determined to see fully created. To this end he convened a national Congress of Uruguayans, of which he was, as a matter of course, elected President, in addition to being created Military Governor of the country. One of the first acts of the new Congress was to advertise its existence by the mission of deputies to the Junta at Buenos Aires. But, the Junta refusing to recognise either an independent Uruguay or its agents, the deputies returned home to spread the tale of the rebuff, and to increase the bitterness that already lay so deep between the Buenos Aires authorities and Artigas.
In January, 1814, the long series of incessant disputes was brought abruptly to a head by Artigas. In the dead of night he struck his hide tents, mounted his men, and his entire force rode away over the hills, leaving Rondeau and his army to continue the siege of Montevideo as best they might. The Buenos Aires authorities, furious at the defection, placed a price upon Artigas's head; and the Gaucho leader, equally incensed at this personal ultimatum, retaliated by declaring open war upon the Junta. Storming against the Buenos Airens, this born leader of men took his body—valued by his enemies at six thousand pesos, alive or dead—along the coast of the great river. So successful were his denunciations and the missions of his ambassadors that not only the littoral provinces of Entre Rios, Corrientes, and Santa Fé came spontaneously to his standard, but the comparatively remote province of Córdoba, following the example of the rest, proffered its allegiance.
It was not long ere the news of the rupture reached the ears of Vigodet in Montevideo. Thinking to derive profit from the occasion, he made a final appeal to throw in his lot with the royal forces. The Gaucho leader in his refusal is stated to have said that "with the Porteños [Buenos Airens] there was always time for reconciliation; with the Spaniards, never!" That the time for the former consummation was not yet ripe was evidenced by the almost immediate outbreak of active hostilities between the rival South American parties.
In the meanwhile Montevideo was giving out the last gasp of its imperial existence. The Spanish fleet that had assisted in its defence had been destroyed by Admiral Brown, the famous Irishman in Argentine service. Hunger and the lack of general necessaries both of livelihood and of war completed the work of arms. On the 20th June, 1814, Montevideo, after suffering intense privations, capitulated, and with its fall passed for ever the last vestige of Spanish power from the provinces of the River Plate.
[CHAPTER V]
HISTORY—continued
Conclusion of Spanish rule—Situation of the victors—Rival claims—Alvear defeats a Uruguayan force—Montevideo remains in possession of Buenos Aires—Rural Uruguay supports Artigas—Alliance of the Argentine littoral provinces with the Orientales—Some intrigues and battles—Success of the Uruguayans—Departure from Montevideo of the Buenos Aires garrison—The Uruguayans enter into possession of their capital—Some crude methods of government—Trials of the inhabitants—Growth of Artigas's power—The Buenos Aires directors undertake a propitiatory measure—A grim human offering—Attitude of the Uruguayan Protector—Negotiations and their failure—The civil progress of Uruguay—Formation of departments—The Portuguese invade the country once again—Condition of the inhabitants—Fierce resistance to the invaders—A campaign against heavy odds—The Portuguese army enters Montevideo—War continued by the provinces—Invasion of Brazil by the Oriental forces—Crushing defeats suffered by the army of invasion—Final struggles—The flight of Artigas—Uruguay passes under Portuguese rule.
The defeated eagle was fluttering slowly homeward with broken wing. But its departure did not leave the battlefield empty. It was the turn now of the victorious hawks to rend each other. Alvear had arrived from Buenos Aires, and was now in charge of the newly won city. Scarcely had he begun his work of organisation, however, when Otorgues, Artigas's chief lieutenant, appeared at Las Piedras in the neighbourhood of the capital, and in the name of his leader demanded that the place should be handed over to the Uruguayans. Alvear's answer was unexpected and to the point. Marching his army through the darkness, he fell upon Otorgues's forces in the middle of the night, shattering them completely.
Thus the Buenos Aires authorities remained for the time being masters of the city. As for their sway, the Montevideans broke out into bitter complaints that the Spanish dominion had been liberal and lenient by comparison. However this may have been, it is certain that those families noted for their allegiance to Artigas were subjected to severe penalties and restrictions.
Nevertheless the situation of the advocates of centralisation had now become critical. By a curious irony of fate the position of the Junta was exactly identical with that formerly held by the Spaniards. Montevideo lay in its power; but the remainder of the Banda Oriental as well as the Argentine provinces of Entre Rios, Correntes, and Santa Fé were completely subject to Artigas. Alive to the growing power of the Protector, the Buenos Aires Government opened negotiations for a treaty, flinging out in the first place an olive-branch in the shape of a degree not only relieving the head of the Gaucho leader of the dollars set upon it, but in addition proclaiming him to the world as buen servidor de la patria—"a worthy servant of the country." A meeting at Montevideo resulted in the evacuation of Montevideo on the part of nearly the entire Buenos Aires garrison. These departed by river; but, instead of returning to Buenos Aires, the troops landed at Colonia, marched inland to Minas, fell upon Otorgues, whose camp lay in that district, and completely routed the force of the unsuspecting lieutenant.
This achieved, the victorious army set out in search of Rivera, another of Artigas's commanders, who had recently surprised and destroyed a Buenos Aires column. In this latter leader, however, Dorrego, the Junta general, met with more than his match, and, suffering many casualties, was forced to retire to Colonia. Sallying out from here with reinforcements a little later, he was utterly defeated, and fled in haste to Corrientes, accompanied by some score of men who formed the sole remnant of his entire army.
Just as the fall of Montevideo crowned the doom of the Spanish power, so this final disaster marked the end of the occupation of the town by the Buenos Aires Government. A little more than a month after the event the troops of the garrison sailed across to Buenos Aires. The following day Fernando Otorgues entered the place at the head of his troops. The advent of the new Military Governor was hailed with enthusiasm by the inhabitants. The unfurling of Artigas's blue and white standard with its red bar was answered by illuminations and fireworks by the citizens.
For the first time in its history the capital of Uruguay lay beneath the command of a Uruguayan. By one of the first acts of the new régime a national coat of arms was instituted, and a flaming proclamation promised nothing short of the millennium. All this would have been very well had it not been necessary for this new benignity to be put immediately to the test. It then became evident to the depressed Montevideans that with each change of rulers their load of evils had increased. With his talents essentially confined to the field of battle, there was probably no man in Uruguay who possessed less of the lamb in his disposition than Otorgues. The temperaments of his subordinates, reckless at the best of times, had been further excited by merciless warfare. Thus the inhabitants, at the mercy of the utterly licentious Gaucho soldiers, continued to groan for relief in vain.
Artigas himself had not approached the city. From points of vantage along the great river system he had ceaselessly harassed the forces of the Junta, until Alvear, its director, goaded to exasperation, collected into an army every soldier that he could spare, and, determined to put all to the hazard, sent the imposing expedition against the Gaucho leader. The adventure involved complete disaster to the director. Ere it had passed the frontiers of Buenos Aires Province, the army, encouraged by Artigas, revolted, and its chief, Colonel Alvarez Thomas, returned to Buenos Aires to depose Alvear, with whose office he invested himself.
The power of the famous Oriental chief had now reached its zenith. The new director, Alvarez Thomas, acutely conscious of the Protector's power, thought of nothing beyond conciliation. Among the measures employed was one that redounded very little to his credit. Not satisfied with the public burning of the various proclamations hostile to the Caudillo, he bethought himself of a stake that should win for ever the regard of Artigas. To this end he arrested the seven chief friends of Alvear, and sent them as a combined sacrifice and peace-offering to Artigas's encampment. As a specimen of grim and sycophantic courtesy the callousness of the offering of seven bodies can scarcely have been exceeded in the world's history. But Artigas, contrary to the Director's expectation, failed to make the intended use of the gifts. Indeed, he treated them with no little consideration, and sent them back whence they came, bidding them tell Thomas that the General Artigas was no executioner.
The next move was of the legitimately political order. The voluntary acknowledgment of the independence of Uruguay was offered in exchange for the abandonment of the protectorate over the provinces of Entre Rios, Santa Fé, Córdoba, and Corrientes. This was also refused by Artigas, who maintained that the provinces of the River Plate should, though self-governing, be indissolubly linked.
During all this time Artigas remained at his encampment at Hervidero on the banks of the Uruguay River. From thence by a system of organisation that, though crude, was marvellously effective, he manipulated the affairs of the extensive region under his command, jealously watching the moves of doubtful friends and open enemies, and keeping his armed bands of remorseless Gauchos ceaselessly on the alert.
This continual state of minor warfare, however, did not altogether exclude the attention to civil matters. In addition to some tentative measures of administration in Córdoba and the Argentine littoral provinces, Uruguay was partitioned off into six departments, to each of which was allotted its Cabildo and general mechanism of government. These attempts naturally represented nothing more than a drop of progress in the ocean of chaos; but there is no reason to doubt that Artigas undertook the new and peaceable campaign with no little measure of whole-heartedness. In any case the new era proved as fleeting as any of its predecessors. It was the turn of the Portuguese once again to set in motion the wheel of fate upon which the destinies of Uruguay were revolving with such giddy rapidity.
It was in 1816 that the Portuguese invaded Uruguay for the second time since the natives of the land had started on their campaign of self-government. Their armies marched south from Brazil with the ostensible object of putting an end to the anarchy that they alleged was rampant under the rule of Artigas. The condition of the country was undoubtedly lamentable. Harassed by hordes of marauding soldiery or acknowledged bandits, the safety of lives and homes without the more immediate range of Artigas's influence was even more precarious than had been the case during the recent period of wild turmoil.
It is true that in the districts bordering on the headquarters of the Gaucho chief at Hervidero matters were very different. Indeed, so severe was the discipline imposed by the Caudillo, and so terrible the penalties following on theft, that it is said that beneath his iron rule a purse of gold might have been left on the public highway with as little chance of its removal as though it lay within the vaults of a bank.
But notwithstanding the disorder that prevailed in so many quarters, the disinterestedness of the motives that caused the Portuguese intervention need not be taken too seriously. There can be no doubt that the real object of the invasion was territorial possession rather than the amelioration of a state of turbulence that concerned Brazil to a very minor degree. To this end an imposing army of twelve thousand men marched southwards, striking Uruguay at the central point of its northern frontier.
Artigas braced himself for a desperate struggle, the final result of which could scarcely be doubtful. In order to distract the attention of the advancing army he became in turn the invader, and sent a force northwards to invade the Misiones territory that, lost to the Banda Oriental, now formed part of Brazil. The manoeuvre, though adroit, was rendered futile by the preponderance of the foreign troops. In a short while the scene of the conflict was transferred to the home country. Here the entire collection of Artigas's mixed forces made a stand. Men of pure Spanish descent, Gauchos, Indians, negroes, and a sprinkling of emigrant foreigners beyond—all these fought with a desperation that was in the first place rewarded by several victories. No human effort, however, could stave off the final result. Andresito, a famous Indian leader, Rivera, Latorre, and Artigas himself were in turn defeated, and in February of 1817 Lecor, at the head of the Portuguese army, entered Montevideo in triumph.
The fall of the capital did not end the war. Throughout the provinces the resistance continued unabated. On the water, too, the Uruguayans asserted themselves with no little success, and it is amazing to read that one or two of their privateers with the utmost hardihood sailed across the ocean to the coasts of Portugal itself, making several captures within sight of the Iberian cliffs. Indeed, that the authority of Artigas was still recognised to a certain degree is proved by a treaty between his Government and Great Britain that was concluded several months after the loss of Montevideo.
It was not long, however, ere the inevitable complications arose to render the situation yet more hopeless. The perennial disputes with Buenos Aires became embittered to such a degree that Artigas, in sublime disregard of the Portuguese forces already in the country, declared war against the Directorate. The primary outcome of this was the defection of several of his leaders, who, as a matter of fact, foreseeing the reckless declaration, had espoused the Buenos Aires cause just previous to its publication.
The sole hope of Artigas now lay in the provinces of Entre Rios and Corrientes. Even here had occurred a wavering that had necessitated a crushing by force ere a return to allegiance had been brought about. With these and the remaining Oriental forces he continued the struggle. But the tide of his fortune had turned. The beginning of the year 1818 witnessed the capture of two of his foremost lieutenants, Otorgues and Lavalleja, who were sent by the Portuguese to an island in the Bay of Rio de Janeiro. As a last effort, Artigas, daring the aggressive even at this stage, hurled his intrepid Gauchos and Misiones Indians once more over the frontier into Brazilian territory itself. A brilliant victory was followed by the inevitable retreat in the face of immensely superior forces. At Tacuarembo, in the north of the Banda Oriental, fell the blow that virtually ended the campaign. Here Artigas's army, under the command of Latorre, was surprised and completely routed with a loss that left the force non-existent for practical purposes. Shortly after this Rivera surrendered to the Portuguese, and with his submission went the last hope of success.
Artigas crossed the River Uruguay, and took up a position in Entre Rios. The hour of his doom had struck; but even then, with his forces shattered and crushed, he refused to bow to the inevitable. With extraordinary doggedness he scoured Entre Rios, Corrientes, and Misiones in an endeavour to sweep up the remaining few that the battles had spared, and yet once again to lead them against the Portuguese. But on this occasion there was no response. Sullen and despairing, the majority of the remnant turned from him, and in the end his officer Ramirez, Governor of Entre Rios, threw off his allegiance, and came with an expedition to expel him from the country.
Devoting themselves to this narrowed campaign, the two Gaucho leaders assailed each other with fury. Victory in the first instance lay with Artigas, despite his diminished following. Ramirez, however, received reinforcements from the Buenos Aires authorities, who had thrown the weight of their influence against their old enemy. It was against the allied forces that Artigas fought his last battle. When it was evident even to his indomitable spirit that all hope was at an end he marched northwards with a couple of hundred troops who remained faithful in the hour of adversity to the once all-powerful Protector.
At Candelaria he crossed the Paraná, and sought the hospitality of Gaspar Rodriguez Francia, the dreaded Dictator of Paraguay. The latter first of all imprisoned the fugitive—probably more from force of habit than from any other reason, since Francia was accustomed to fill his dungeons as lightly as a fishwife her basket with herrings.
After a very short period of incarceration, however, the autocrat came to a definite determination regarding his attitude towards the fugitive who had sought his protection. Releasing him, he treated him with a certain degree of liberality as well as with respect. Artigas was allotted a humble dwelling in the township of Curuguaty, far to the north of Asuncion, and in addition he was granted a moderate pension upon which to live. Here the old warrior, enjoying the deep regard of his neighbours, ended his days in peace, while the tortured Uruguay was incorporated with Brazil and passed under Portuguese rule.