Dictator succeeded dictator, military chief followed military chief in Buenos Aires. A formal act of independence from Spain had been drawn up and proclaimed on the 9th of July, 1816, in Tucuman, where Congress had convened for that purpose. Pueyrredon was selected as supreme director. He was succeeded by Rordeau, and he again was defeated by Artigas. Then came Ramirez and other military leaders who gained more or less power and authority. San Martin paid no attention to these military or governmental affairs. One idea, one definite plan absorbed all his energy and attention. This plan he confided to no one. This taciturn general, however, was preparing a thunderbolt that would clear the Argentine sky of all these clouds, except internal dissensions. When summer came in 1817, which is our winter, and all the passes were freed from snow, he felt that he was ready to advance. Among his forces were the picked youth of Buenos Aires, reckless, enthusiastic and ambitious, who were willing to follow this leader anywhere; manumitted negroes, who were scarcely inferior to their white comrades; Chilean exiles, who preferred death to submission, and looked upon this as their only hope of again seeing their homes. All of these men had been thoroughly drilled in the arts of war as practised by the armies of Europe in the Napoleonic era. No detail had been omitted. The last few months had been spent in preparing rations of dried beef and parched corn, in gathering mules for transport, and in making sledges to be used on the slopes which were too steep for cannon on wheels. Every possible route across the Andes had been examined, and the most careful calculation of distances made. Spies were placed in all the passes, and the Spaniards were kept in absolute ignorance as to which of many passes along hundreds of miles of frontier would be used for the impending attack. These men were sworn to remain “united in sentiment and courage, in order not to suffer for the future any tyrant in America; and like new Spartans never to bear the chains of slavery while the stars shone in the sky and blood ran in their veins.”
The precautions of this astute leader are shown by the fact that his real intentions were not revealed until on the very eve of the advance, through fear of treachery. In the middle of January General San Martin broke camp and left Mendoza. His army was divided into two divisions. The smaller force was sent through what is known as the Uspallata pass, which was the old Inca trail, and is now followed by the railway which has just been completed across the Andes. This trail runs across the Bridge of the Incas, one of the most famous natural bridges in the world. The other followed the more difficult pass of Las Platas, farther to the north. The solitude, barrenness and utter desolation of these Andean passes can only be fully appreciated by those who have traversed them as has the writer. Majestic Aconcagua looks down upon both routes, and all around are lofty peaks which seem like giant sentinels guarding these solitudes of nature from the invasion of man. Terrific wind and snow storms are common, and the dust blows in clouds that are almost stifling at times. It was an undertaking that would have appalled an ordinary man.
SAN MARTIN AND O’HIGGINS AT LA CUMBRE, CROSSING THE ANDES INTO CHILE
Courtesy of the Bulletin of Pan-American Union
But San Martin was no ordinary man. A high and lofty purpose thrilled his soul and steeled his heart against all discouragement. An advance guard of the Spaniards in the Uspallata pass was driven out by that wing of his little army of four thousand men. Before reinforcements could come up the two divisions had successfully accomplished the crossing and were united. Disconcerted by the report that two armies had crossed the Andes and were advancing against him, the Spanish commander retreated to Santiago for reinforcements. With admirable forethought San Martin chose his positions and awaited the conflict which was inevitable. The two armies approached each other. The Spanish commander had a superior force, composed of veterans of the peninsular wars. San Martin’s men were inspired by an enthusiastic commander and a love of country. The battle raged for hours until, surrounded on three sides by the enemy, their artillery gone, a third of their number dead on the field of battle, the Spanish forces broke and fled toward Santiago. Less than half their number escaped death or capture. Thus was the decisive battle of Chacabuco won by the patriots on the 12th of February, 1817, with a loss of only twelve men killed. The next day the Spanish governor of Chile was flying from the capital, and two days later the conquerors entered that city. San Martin had won his first great victory, and was everywhere hailed as a deliverer.
Steadfast in his purpose of driving the Spaniards from all of South America the victor refused to be drawn into local fights. The Argentine patriots were fighting among themselves and his friends wanted San Martin to return and aid them. This he refused to do, and his friends were embittered. Unwilling to accept the supreme authority in Chile, General O’Higgins, who had materially assisted in the victory at Chacabuco, was selected as executive. The independence of Chile was soon after proclaimed. In connection with Lord Cochrane, an English officer, San Martin began to devote all his energies to the building of a fleet, in order to drive the hated Spaniards from Peru. Three years more were spent in these preparations. At last, in 1820, a little fleet was ready, and he sailed with a small army for that stronghold of Spanish power. In four months, without a pitched battle, he sent the enemy flying from Peru. Lima yielded and that country was declared to be independent. He then assumed the rôle of protector of Peru and commander in chief of the insurgent army. San Martin desired to coöperate with Bolivar, and a personal interview was arranged between these two liberators at Guayaquil. Bolivar refused. Without a word of explanation, without a complaint, the disappointed San Martin gave up the command of the army, resigned the dictatorship of Peru to Bolivar, and left that country. There was no place for him in Argentina, except as a leader in civil war, and this he would not indulge in. For honours or position he cared not. Thus he went into voluntary exile. Rather than jeopardize the independence secured after so much hard fighting, rather than take part in the divisions of the factions fighting among themselves, he sacrificed home, friends and honours, and even submitted to cruel charges of ingratitude and cowardice. Few finer examples of unselfishness are recorded in the annals of the world’s history. If not abler San Martin was at least more unselfish than Bolivar.
General San Martin, heartbroken and disappointed, went to Boulogne-sur-Mer, in France, and established his home. The remaining years of his life were passed in obscurity and poverty, with only a faithful daughter to comfort and cheer his old age. Once he started for the land of his birth, and got as far as Montevideo. There he learned that Argentina was in the throes of a revolution. Fearing that his presence might be misconstrued, the old warrior sorrowfully turned his face back toward France. The generosity of a Spaniard was all that saved this hero from absolute want during the last few years of his life, for he lived to a good old age. Reading was the only resource left to brighten his later years, but approaching blindness deprived him of even this pleasure during the last few months. On the 17th of August, 1850, General San Martin expired in the arms of his loving and faithful daughter.
It was many years before Argentina fully appreciated the services of this grand old man, and it was then too late to bring cheer to his broken heart. His sacred remains were brought back to Buenos Aires and placed in the Cathedral, where they now repose. Honours were decreed him. There are few cities in that republic that have not erected a monument to his memory. Chile and Peru have raised statues in his honour. Only a few months ago the Argentine government dedicated a fine memorial in the French city where he died. Last year, while Argentina was celebrating her first centennial, the memory of the patriot San Martin was kept green, and the youth were taught his great and unselfish love of country. It is little wonder that the Argentinians do not go into raptures over the name of Bolivar, but hold up their own San Martin as the real liberator of at least four of the republics of South America.
For a half-century following the 25th of May, 1810, the history of Argentina is a record of wars, revolutions and other disturbances. It was the unavoidable conflict between centralizationists and autonomists, between military and civil principles of government. A detailed account of all these conflicts would be confusing and wearisome, and it can best be treated in a consideration of those involved in the struggle.