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.