On that same day, the Venezuelan Congress adopted a flag for the Republic—the tri-colour, the Red, Yellow, and Blue, which Miranda had flown from the Leander.
Miranda was made Commander-in-Chief of the Patriot Army of Venezuela, and led it against the Spanish forces.
A TERRIBLE THING
But the struggle against Spain was only just begun. Her armies were large. Her General, Monteverde, was treacherous, crafty, and cruel. Much of Venezuela yet groaned beneath the heel of Spain.
Miranda and his soldiers fought valiantly, now defeated, now victorious. It began to seem as though the Patriot cause might triumph in the end.
Then a terrible thing happened.
An earthquake—frightful, tremendous—shook the land. The earth heaved like the sea in all directions. Churches, houses, and barracks swayed, and fell with a roar. Men, women, and children were crushed and killed. The Patriot arms and supplies were buried under mountains of débris.
In the City of Caracas, the ruins were awful. The frantic people ran screaming into the great square. The hearts of the bravest were frozen with terror.
But the earthquake had scarcely passed away, before Friars, who were loyal to Spain, were mounted on a table in the midst of the frightened multitude.
“The earthquake is the judgment of God,” they cried, “and his curse on all who are trying to cast off their virtuous King, the Lord’s Anointed!”