The approach of the end of almost three centuries of the colonial system in Chile does not speak well for Spain. Trade was still restricted. The post-office was a monopoly that had been farmed out to a private person. A mail vessel arrived at Montevideo from Spain once in two months, and from there the mails were transported across the Andes. There was a post once a month between Concepción and Santiago, and twice a week between Santiago and Valparaiso. Most people used private couriers or travellers for their despatches. The only manufactures were the making of brandy and wine, drying beef and tanning hides.
No city, except Santiago, had more than six thousand people, and that city had perhaps thirty thousand. Horse racing, cock-fighting, bull-fighting and cards were the only amusements. The buildings were creditable, but the streets were dirty, unlighted, and unsanitary. People who went abroad at night had their servants carry lanterns before them. Vice and disorder was everywhere. Robbery, brawls and assassination were frequent. Begging was an intolerable curse. Titles of nobility were common, and had been purchased by many unworthy persons. Decorations of membership in orders of nobility had been scattered broadcast. There was not even a school for girls in Santiago. The majority of the people still lived in the country in homes that were without conveniences. They had little furniture, but all were provided with an oratorio in which each wandering missionary was expected to celebrate mass. The Indians were held in practical slavery, and the landlords administered justice over their tenants. A sentimental attachment, and also fear that a bad condition might be made worse, kept these poor humans from leaving. Diseases often became epidemic through the unsanitary conditions, so that thousands were at times swept away. Concepción lost a fourth of its population one year through the ravages of smallpox. It is probable that at the beginning of the nineteenth century the total population of Chile, exclusive of the Araucanian Indians, did not exceed a half million.
There are two men by the name of O’Higgins prominent in Chilean history. The first, Ambrosio O’Higgins, was born in Ireland in 1730, of humble parentage. His uncle, a Spanish priest, sent the youth to South America, and he finally landed in Chile. He first became a trader and peddler, and then an engineer. During this latter employment he built the casuchas, as the rest houses in the Uspallata pass are called. He also distinguished himself in fights with the Indians, so that he received government recognition. Plain Ambrose became Don Ambrosio. Then the Irish youth, once a ragged, barefooted urchin, became successively Marquis of Osorno, governor of Chile, and, finally, Viceroy of Peru. He died at the age of eighty, in Peru, while he was filling the latter office. His administration was marked by indefatigable activity. It was not until he was sixty-eight years of age that he became captain-general of Chile, which position he held for eight years. He introduced a number of agricultural reforms and set aside many of the abuses on the plantations. He constructed a passable road between Valparaiso and the capitol, where none had hitherto been built, as the Spaniards were content to ride on mules and carry their goods the same way. He improved the road over the Andes via the Uspallata pass, as trade by this route had greatly increased. Altogether the things accomplished by this energetic Irishman were remarkable; his efforts and talents worked a great deal of good for Chile and Peru. Had all the governors and viceroys been men of similar character history would probably read differently.
The year 1810 was fraught with direful consequences for Spain. In that year Hidalgo sounded the grito of independence in Mexico, and the memorable assembly met in Buenos Aires, which was the forerunner of a successful revolution. The news of the latter event, which happened on the 25th of May, soon reached Santiago and fanned the fires of revolution. On the 18th of September three hundred and fifty electors met in that city and elected a junta to take charge of the government. A quiet submission to the new order of things followed for a few months. A Congress was elected and opened with solemn religious ceremonies and many eloquent speeches. But jealousies soon arose over the personnel of the government junta, and several years of conflict with Spain and internal dissension followed. The leaders of the patriot forces were Bernardo O’Higgins, of Irish descent, Lord Cochrane, an Englishman, and San Martin, an Argentinian. The disturbing element was contributed in the main by three brothers, named Carrera. Though leaders for a while these brothers, of whom José Miguel Carrera was the ablest one, all met violent deaths at the hands of their indignant countrymen.
JOSÉ DE SAN MARTIN.
Bernardo O’Higgins was born in Chillan, Chile, in 1776, an illegitimate son of Ambrosio O’Higgins. He was educated in England, where he imbibed republican sentiments. He returned to Chile a few years before his father’s death, and immediately identified himself with the revolutionists. By the year 1813 he was at the head of their forces. He proved to be a man of wonderful activity, although not of military training. Troubles between the Carreras and O’Higgins were unfortunate for the patriot cause, but the latter was in the right and the jealousies of the former thwarted him at every turn. After several years of possession of the capitol by the revolutionists the loyalist forces under General Osorio recaptured Santiago, and O’Higgins was compelled to flee. The general fled to Mendoza and there joined General San Martin, who was greatly impressed by the Irishman. For several years the destinies of these two men were linked and intertwined.
José de San Martin was a noble character, and his life was actuated by unselfish principles. There was, according to the best accounts, a moral grandeur in his character, which places him in the rank of the world’s great leaders and patriots. No doubt he had his faults, which may have been serious enough, but his life was far above his contemporaries, and he has given us a sample of self abnegation which is well worth remembering. He gave his sword to the best interests of the human race, and when he found that his presence might not serve the cause of humanity in the nations he had liberated, he went into exile and poverty.[4]
Here is a pen picture of San Martin written by one who interviewed him at Lima: “On the 25th of June I had an interview with General San Martin on board a little schooner anchored in Callao Roads. There was little at first sight in his appearance to engage attention, but when he arose and began to speak his great superiority over every other person I have seen in South America was sufficiently apparent. He received us in a very simple style on the deck of his vessel, dressed in a surtout coat and a large fur cap, seated at a table made of a few loose planks laid along the top of two empty casks. Upon this occasion his views and feelings were decidedly stated. ‘The contest in Peru,’ said he ‘is not a war of conquest and culture, but entirely of opinion. It is a war of new and liberal principles against prejudices, bigotry and tyranny. I do not want military recognition; I have no ambition to become conqueror of Peru; I want solely to liberate the country from oppression.’”
In 1822 San Martin decided that he wanted to meet Bolivar. A meeting was arranged between the two to take place at Guayaquil, on the coast of Ecuador. Bolivar had driven the Spaniards from Venezuela, Colombia and Ecuador, but had not proceeded farther south. San Martin wished to cooperate with him in the subjugation of Peru. Bolivar came to the city with some fifteen hundred men, and entered the city under arches of triumph. San Martin arrived by sea on a little vessel called the Macedonia. He landed and passed through files of soldiers who had been drawn up to do him honour. When the two heroes met they embraced, entered the house arm in arm and were left alone. What actually occurred no one knows, as neither of the principals ever revealed the conversation. It is known, however, from subsequent events, that San Martin decided upon self abnegation, which, he believed, would be best for the cause of liberty. A great ball was given to the two heroes, which was preceded by a banquet. Bolivar loved these festive occasions, but San Martin avoided them whenever possible.