When the English retired from Buenos Aires and Montevideo there seemed no reason to expect any change in the relations between Argentina and the mother country. The Spanish rule was not rigorous, and, from a financial point of view, its policy was now highly favourable to the colonists. They also warmly sympathised with their European kinsmen in the apparently hopeless struggle against the oppression of Napoleon. When Charles IV. abdicated in 1808, all the Spanish-American dependencies hailed Ferdinand VII. as their King with enthusiasm. Nothing seemed less likely than any kind of disloyalty. And yet a very few years saw the beginning of a struggle which ended in an old and haughty nation being stripped of every one of the dominions she possessed on the American continent, and sinking into a state of lethargy and decay from which, after the lapse of a century, there seems little prospect of a "Roman recovery." The causes of this strange phenomenon certainly do not seem adequate. It is, of course, obvious that the weakness of the Home Government and their own successful repulse of the English showed the Argentines that if they had the will to be independent there was no doubt about the power. Again, their sense of importance could not but be increased by the eagerness with which foreigners sought for a share in their trade, and Cisneros, the Viceroy, had strengthened this impression by admitting neutrals unreservedly to the South American trade—a step which he took with great reluctance. But neither of these circumstances could have had any effect if goodwill and loyalty had remained unimpaired. These had probably been undermined by the jealousy between Creole and Spaniard, by the pride of caste shown by the latter towards the former, and by the preference always given to Spaniards in the matter of official appointments. As the people of Argentina increased in consciousness of worth and power, they would be the less willing to brook this assumption of superiority, and doubtless hot-headed young men had frequently discussed the possibility of the step for which the cant term is now "cutting the painter." There is a further circumstance which may have had influence on the course of events. Able and ambitious men could not but see that in the turmoil of revolution, followed by independence, there was a prospect of unbounded riches, and power, which, however speculative, is always more attractive to such minds than to be seated in the mean. Indeed a certain Francisco Miranda from Caracas, ex-volunteer in Washington's army, had, at the close of the war, discussed Spanish emancipation with Washington himself. He then visited Europe, fought in the French revolutionary army, and actually attained to the rank of general. His efforts subsequently to induce Pitt or President Adams to initiate a war of liberation in South America were, however, unsuccessful, but his constant intrigues with Spanish Americans show that the project was undoubtedly in the air.

Yet when we have gone over the meagre list of possible causes, we cannot but attribute the chief place to one which strengthened all the circumstances favourable to change and neutralised or reversed those which were unfavourable. This was the doctrine of the Rights of Man or, to be plain, the revolutionary spirit itself. Its influence was felt by all classes, and it caused ferment and bloodshed in such widely different places as Ireland and the West Indies. It had already invaded England, and afterwards attacked her ancient rival and overthrew the French monarchy and trampled down the French Church. Thus, this purely moral cause must be taken as the efficient factor of the Spanish-American Revolution; the others could have effected nothing had not the seemingly barren dogma of equality provided an atmosphere and a soil ready to foster any revolutionary seed that might find its way to South America.

Ferdinand VII. was proclaimed King in 1808. The heroic Liniers was then Viceroy at Buenos Aires, but doubtless his French nationality gave rise to suspicions, and as soon as the news came that Joseph, the puppet of Napoleon, had been imposed upon Spain, the Frenchman was deposed, and on July 19, 1809, Cisneros became Viceroy in the name of Ferdinand. As stated above, he threw open the ports with startling results, for the customs revenue was immediately quadrupled. And yet this wise measure revealed to the people their strength and self-sufficiency, and may have predisposed them to revolution.[48]

On the 13th of May, 1810, news came from Spain that the mother country was now under the heel of France and had no longer any power to help or control them. Cisneros was in a very difficult situation. On May 25th he consented to the formation of a Council under the title of the Provisional Government of the Provinces of Rio de la Plata, and this date has been generally regarded by historians as the beginning of the Revolution. Prominent among those who desired change were Moreno, Belgrano, Saavedra, and Castelli. Moreno, who was secretary to the new Council, was a man of large views, irresistible enthusiasm, and full of daring. Belgrano was equally fervent in the cause and was devoted to Moreno, content to serve him without reward for the liberation of Spanish America, and he was one of the few men in the Province who, by business aptitude and coolness of character, was qualified to direct the movement. The Council acted with considerable adroitness. Professing to be acting for Ferdinand and thus conciliating all classes, they worked steadily in the direction of depressing and discrediting all Spanish officials, and at last, on June 1st, Moreno ordered Cisneros and other high functionaries to be seized and deported. A merchant brig conveyed them to the Canaries and they vanish from history.

Moreno anticipated trouble from Cordoba; but even there his opponents were losing ground. Liniers had retired thither, but despairing of success he, with several loyal Spaniards, collected a force of about four hundred men and marched in the direction of Peru. They were pursued, overwhelmed, and captured. The liberator of La Plata and five of his colleagues were thereupon shot. This outrage, equally remarkable as an instance of atrocity and ingratitude, was a fitting prelude to Spanish-American history. Before the end of the year the whole of the north was in the hands of the revolutionists, and about the same time they experienced an equally valuable success. The loyalists still held Montevideo and their fleet blockaded Buenos Aires. Moreno took advantage of the English anxiety for open markets, and appealed to the English Minister at Madrid. He received the reply that the British Government could not recognise the blockade, as it desired to maintain a position of perfect neutrality, and thus a potent Spanish weapon was rendered innoxious.

However, it was very early evident that unity and federation would not characterise the Revolution; that each Province would aim at its own particular independence; that Buenos Aires would not be the New York of a single new nation. An expedition sent to Paraguay, with the object of extirpating the Spanish partisans, failed altogether to attach that country to Argentina. Paraguay, like its neighbours, preferred independence.

At the same time jealousies broke out between the leaders. Moreno was worsted in a personal dispute with Saavedra, and at the beginning of the year 1811 was glad to accept an important mission to England. He died on the voyage thither. But the revolutionists were reminded that internal dissensions were out of place by the arrival at Montevideo of the able and energetic Elio, who had been appointed Viceroy by the Home Government. Although he was speedily forced to content himself with holding the town only, he was a source of great trouble to the Council and formed a valuable rallying-point for the loyalists. The Peruvian partisans also harassed them in the north, but Belgrano, by the victory of Tucuman on September 25th, laid the foundations of Argentine independence. The triumphant general wrote to Buenos Aires: "Our country may celebrate with just pride the complete victory obtained on the 25th of September, the anniversary of Our Lady of Mercy, whose protection we had invoked. We have captured seven guns, three flags, one standard, fifty officers, four chaplains, two curÉs, and six hundred men, besides four hundred wounded prisoners, the stores belonging to the infantry and the artillery, the largest part of the baggage. Such is the day's result. Officers and soldiers have behaved gloriously and bravely. We are pursuing the routed enemy." This victory freed the north from all fear of invasion in the future.

There is no need to give details of the skirmishes with the royal forces or the skirmishes between intriguing leaders which occupied the next eighteen months. It is sufficient to say that during this time the influence of the soldier San Martin was growing rapidly, and towards the close of the year 1813 he replaced Belgrano as commander of the northern army. Hitherto power had been in the hands of two or three men, among whom Alvear was now the most prominent; but in January, 1814, a Congress assembled at Buenos Aires, and on the 31st of that month it chose Posadas, a relation of Alvear, to be Dictator of the so-called United Provinces. In June Alvear captured Montevideo, and the hopes of Spain in the Plate district were for ever quenched; but Uruguay refused to be subordinate to Buenos Aires, and Posadas was in no position to coerce her. Uruguay, therefore, finally severed the connection with Argentina, and passes out of our history.

Meanwhile San Martin, who had become Governor of Mendoza, was carrying on that campaign for the liberation of South America which was to make his name immortal; but in Buenos Aires affairs were going by no means well—in fact, anarchy reigned. The appointment of Puirredon as Dictator brought about some improvement, and on July 9, 1816, the separation from Spain was formally announced.

The next year San Martin, with an efficient army of four thousand men, moved to help the Chilians, and gained a glorious victory over the Spaniards at Chacabuco, not far from Santiago. A year later he won a no less decisive triumph at Maipu (April 5, 1818), which secured the independence of Chile, and by his victories he also strengthened the position of Puirredon and the Government at Buenos Aires.

It was now time for constructive work. A Congress assembled once more at Buenos Aires, and, on May 25, 1819, promulgated a federal Constitution on the pattern of the United States of North America. At the same time Puirredon was glad to resign his difficult position, and, in his stead, General Rondeau became Dictator, or President. He was incapable, and the system of government by Juntas or Dictators, which had distracted the country for ten years, came to an end, and seemed likely to be succeeded by even worse conditions, for all the "United Provinces" flew back to particularism and anarchy. But in 1821 the able and honest Rivadavia intervened, and reduced affairs to some semblance of order. In that year also San Martin entered Lima in triumph, and it was clearly necessary to organise the new and sovereign States of South America. In 1822 Lord Londonderry declared for the part of the English Government that "so large a portion of the world could not long continue without some recognised and established relations, and that the State, which neither by its councils nor by its arms could effectually assert its own rights over its dependencies so as to enforce obedience, and thus make itself responsible for maintaining their relations with other Powers, must sooner or later be prepared to see those relations established by the overruling necessity of the case in some other form." The United States had recognised the independence of Argentina, and in 1823 the complicated state of world politics made decisive action necessary. Spain was once more in the grip of France, and it was the object of England to counteract her influence. Accordingly it was intimated to France that England considered the separation of the colonies from Spain as complete, and in the December of that year the United States put forward the celebrated Munroe Doctrine to serve as a warning to France or any other European Power that might cherish transatlantic designs.

It was on January 23, 1825, that the inevitable result was brought about. With the countenance of Sir Woodbine Parish, the English Minister, whose name is preserved by a meritorious work upon the country where he played so conspicuous a part, the federal States assembled and decreed the fundamental law of the Constitution. Here we may date the true commencement of the Republic of Argentina. The Revolution was at an end. True to the general character of her history Argentina displayed, in this important struggle, fewer striking events than any of the other young nations. The battles in her territory were few, and even the city feuds and inevitable executions were comparatively mild and infrequent. And yet that Argentina had the leading share in the Revolution no one can doubt, for, first of all, she gave to Spanish America that disinterested patriot San Martin, who was the George Washington of South America; and, in the next place, the victory of Belgrano at Tucuman went far towards paralysing loyalist activity in Peru, and finally Buenos Aires was even then regarded as the capital of the continent, on which were fixed the eyes of all South American revolutionists, and towards which all the plans of European statecraft and private intrigue were directed. Argentina was the leader and organiser of victory.

And what good came of it all? It may be regarded as a regrettable necessity due to the weakness of Spain. Spain was too feeble and the other Powers were too alien in every way to control this great Empire. It was necessary to act; but who will say that the consequences of the action were wholly beneficial? Argentina exchanged a benevolent, if unenterprising, Government for a long period of anarchy, alternating with despotism, but she was less unfortunate than most of the sister Republics. The men who fought and laboured for the cause of South American independence had no illusion on the subject. General Bolivar, the Liberator, when his task was over, said: "This country will inevitably fall into the hands of the unbridled rabble, and little by little become a prey to petty tyrants of all colours and races. If it were possible for any part of the world to return to a state of primitive chaos, that would be the fate of South America."

South America was in every respect most unfortunate. The weakness and misfortunes of Spain followed closely upon the growth of the revolutionary spirit which disturbed the whole world, and though the Continent was for a long time comparatively little affected by it, vigorous intrigues in Europe kept it alive, and when the time was ripe the revolutionists set to work. Equally unfortunate was it that the Revolution took place at a time when unchecked democracy was considered a practicable form of government. Experience has shown that it is beset with difficulties in all States; but where a portion of the people have political instincts and capacity, public affairs may go on, even if to some extent hampered by professions of a belief in ochlocracy, without serious disaster. Few people in the world could have been found less suited to direct democratic institutions than the Spanish Creole was at the time of the War of Independence. Little town communities, paternally governed groups of villages, all with complete local self-government and united only by common loyalty to a King or Viceroy—such was the form of government under which the Indo-Spaniards might have lived and prospered; but the constitutions which they attempted to formulate were altogether incongruous under the circumstances. Political theorising has cost South America very dear.

Canning's oft-quoted sentence about the "New World which was called into existence to redress the balance of the Old" is, in the sense in which it is often quoted, a piece of cheap rhetoric. But, in fact, he was arguing that it was not worth while to go to war with France on account of the marching of French troops into Spain; the present Spain, he said, was not the country of which our ancestors were jealous; the Spain over the waters is independent, and the fact has entirely changed the balance of power.

To suppose, as those who quote the phrase often suppose, that South America was initiating a happy age in contrast to the wrongs and oppressions of the Old World, is too extravagant a belief to require refutation. In the nineteenth century the countries of Europe made steady progress, and even their internal troubles were generally fruitful in improved conditions. In South America most of the countries retrograded, and the whole continent was drenched with blood uselessly shed. Comparative tranquillity now prevails, but this is due to the general progress of the peoples—a progress which it would be rash to say was furthered by their political institutions. The heroics which have been uttered over the Spanish-America War of Independence are discounted by the facts of South American history. For a long time bloodshed and tyranny were its results; the people were as yet unfitted for full emancipation, and so little advantage has been taken of the experiences of three-quarters of a century that the promise of the future is by no means serene, and its chief hope is that material prosperity may counterbalance defective political conditions. These are still unsound, and until rulers and subjects advance in civic capacity the good of Argentina will be the effects rather of the industry and enterprise of private individuals than of assemblies and statesmen.