O’HIGGINS

THE SON OF THE BAREFOOT BOY

Ambrose O’Higgins was like the bright lad in the fairy tale, who started out to seek his fortune with a knapsack on his back. Ambrose was only a servant-boy in Ireland, barefoot some say, running errands for the Lady of Castle Dangan in County Meath. Then one day he set out to seek his fortune in Spain where he had an uncle.

He did not find it there. So he bought a stock of merchandise, and took ship for South America, the wonderful country, where, so people said, one could get treasure and emeralds a-plenty.

He landed at Buenos Aires, and sold some of his goods. Then he crossed the pampas, or prairie, and packed his goods by mule-train over the high Andes into Chile.

Still his treasure did not appear, and, being a venturesome lad, he made his way north to Lima in Peru. There he kept a small stall and peddled his wares under the shadow of Pizarro’s ancient Cathedral. As he looked up at its weather-beaten walls and down at his old clothes, little he dreamed that one day he should enter the door of that very Cathedral clad in a Vice-King’s garments and surrounded by a brilliant retinue of officers and retainers.

Not knowing that all this wonderful thing was to happen, he grew restless and set off on his travels through Venezuela and New Granada, and finally went back to Chile.

There his fortune was awaiting him. As the years passed, he studied and worked industriously, until he became a famous civil engineer and built roads and did great things for Chile. He devoted himself to Chile’s interest until the King of Spain, learning of his genius and of all the improvements he had brought about in the country, appointed him its Governor.

He served with such wisdom that, in time, he was made Viceroy, or Vice-King, of Peru, the highest and most coveted office in all Spanish America.

So with pomp and procession, in a Vice-King’s garments, he entered the Cathedral doors of the very city where once as a poor homeless boy he had peddled his wares.

He died at a great age, full of honours, and left his estate to Bernardo his son.

Now, Bernardo his son was anything but a Royalist. He was a Patriot. He felt no deep loyalty to the Crown of Spain. He had been sent to London to study while he was only a boy. There he had met Miranda the Flaming Son of Liberty. Miranda had become his friend. Bernardo had joined his secret society to which Bolivar and San Martin belonged. Thus the boy, Bernardo O’Higgins, had enthusiastically pledged himself to help Spanish America gain her Freedom.

When his father died, he returned to Chile. He lived for a while on his farm with his mother and sister Rosa. But he was not content to stay there long. So leaving the farm, he gave himself completely to the service of his Country.

And while San Martin, the Argentine General, was mobilizing his Army at Mendoza on the other side of the Andes, O’Higgins and many Chilean Patriots were endeavouring to drive the Spaniards out of their country northward and back to Lima.

THE SINGLE STAR FLAG

It was the Fourth of July. The United States Consulate in Chile was celebrating our Independence Day. Over the Consulate floated the Stars and Stripes, and with it was entwined, for the first time, a tri-coloured flag, red, white, and blue, with a single five-pointed silver star in its upper left hand corner.

It was the new Republican Flag of Chile.

Soon one saw the Patriots of Santiago on the streets, wearing red, white, and blue cockades.

And shortly after this the Single Star Flag was adopted as the Chilean national emblem.

THE HERO OF RANCAGUA

But Spain was not going to permit Chile to hoist a Flag of Independence. She despatched armed frigates and war vessels along the Pacific coast, for she was determined to crush the Patriot uprising once and for all.

From her stronghold, Lima, she sent out fresh troops seasoned in European wars. This strong Spanish force marched down through Chile upon helpless Santiago City. The Patriot Army, very small and badly equipped, took its stand bravely near the town of Rancagua hoping to keep the Spanish from passing.

Unfortunately, there were political quarrels among the Patriots. The Carreras—three brothers—were trying to gain control of the Government and Army. Their personal ambition was greater than their love of Country.

The Patriot forces at Rancagua were in part commanded by two of the Carreras, and in part by O’Higgins of whom they were jealous.

The Spanish attacked. A stiff battle took place. Neither Army would give quarter. Each side hoisted a black flag as a signal of war to the death.

Suddenly, without warning, the Carreras fell back and abandoned O’Higgins and his troop to their fate, leaving them trapped as it were. But O’Higgins and his men retreated into the town and defended themselves courageously. For hours, without cessation, the Spanish attacked. Finally, O’Higgins withdrew his men to the plaza, and fought from behind hastily thrown-up barricades built of carts, bricks, furniture, and parts of houses.

Then a Chilean magazine exploded. The Patriots’ ammunition began to give out. The buildings around them went up in flames. O’Higgins was shot in the leg. But he and all of his little band, of whom scarcely two hundred men were left, tortured by fatigue, thirst, and heat, still gallantly fought on.

Destruction seemed certain. But O’Higgins was not a man to yield to despair. He ordered his men to collect all the horses, mules, and cattle they could lay hands on. He placed himself at the head of his men, and driving the herd before him, plunged through the Spanish lines, cutting fiercely on every side as he went.

So he and his soldiers retreated in safety to Santiago.

But that city was doomed. The Spanish marched upon it and took it. All was terror. Many people fled from the city. Patriots who remained were seized by the Spanish, and imprisoned or murdered. A number of men, some quite old, were banished to the lonely island of Juan Fernandez—Robinson Crusoe’s desert island.

As for Bernardo O’Higgins, he barely escaped with his life. He led a party of miserable shivering refugees, men and women, across the Andes into Argentina. After terrible sufferings from cold in the high mountain passes, they reached Mendoza. There they were welcomed and sheltered by San Martin, the General whom God had called to carry Liberty into Chile.

COMPANIONS-IN-ARMS

Then Argentina and Chile joined forces against Spain. O’Higgins and San Martin became companions-in-arms.

About all that they accomplished, about the Hannibal of the Andes, Chacabuco, Maipu, and the strong fleet which O’Higgins assembled to carry San Martin and his Army to Peru, you may read in the story of San Martin on page 235. There, also, it is told how O’Higgins became the Supreme Dictator of Chile, the land where his father the barefoot boy, had found a fortune.

THE PATRIOT RULER

So while San Martin with his army sailed away to liberate Peru, the unselfish Supreme Dictator stayed at home to care for his people.

Now that the Spanish were driven out, the Country was in a chaotic condition, its laws and Government in confusion. With wisdom, patience, and tact, O’Higgins began the work of reconstruction. And how well he succeeded Captain Basil Hall, an English naval officer, tells in his journal.

And all this was largely due to the energetic and peaceful rule of Bernardo O’Higgins.

But political enemies soon began to press the Supreme Dictator hard. There were conspiracies of the Carrera party. Diplomatic misunderstandings arose between Chile and both the United States and England.

Meanwhile, a more serious situation was developing which was to bring misery to Chile. The aristocrats, who had been Royalists, began to work secretly against O’Higgins and the Republic. Government officials, who were jealous of O’Higgins’s power and success, plotted against him. These conspirators succeeded in getting control of the Assembly.

The Assembly demanded his resignation. O’Higgins knew that if he should refuse to resign, his act would plunge Chile into civil war. Rather than harm his Country, he laid down his power.

The People of Chile, who loved and revered him, wept with sorrow at his abdication. And his enemies would not have dared to attack him, had they not known that he would never shed one drop of Chilean blood in his own defense.

FIRST SOLDIER, FIRST CITIZEN

The rest is soon told.

Bernardo O’Higgins, with his mother and his sister Rosa, went into exile.

He sought refuge in Peru. He reached there after the Amazing Meeting. San Martin was gone. The Peruvians welcomed him with sincere hospitality. They gladly offered to shelter him in his exile. They gratefully acknowledged all that he had done to help equip the Liberating Army which had freed Peru. They gave him a fine sugar plantation, and honoured him in every way they could.

So he lived quietly among them for many years.

But things were not going well in the Republic of Chile. Her first place, which she had held among other southern Republics because of her well-organized Government and her fine civic reconstruction, the work of O’Higgins, this her first place, was lost. She stood no longer at the head of her sister Republics.

She was become a prey to political quarrels. The Holy Alliance in Europe was threatening her. It was then that Chile received gladly the Monroe Doctrine of the United States, which protected her against Spain.

Then Chile, in her trouble, recalled O’Higgins and voted to restore him to all his titles and honours.

Though he loved Chile, he knew it was not best to return, so he refused. Soon after which, he died in Peru.

He is, to-day, the beloved National Hero of the Chilean People.

CHILE AS SHE IS

Sunny, happy, smiling Chile, stretches like a broad ribbon unrolling itself along the Pacific coast of South America. To-day she is a Republic with a Constitution and a President.

Chile is a prosperous Republic; for after civil war and political struggles, she has found herself, and is even stronger and more vigorous than when under the rule of Bernardo O’Higgins.

High in her background loom the Andes, their jagged summits covered with eternal snows; while in their hearts are valleys, lakes, and rushing torrents, rich copper mines, and grazing grounds.

Chile’s immensely long and narrow land reaches from the hot and arid deserts of Peru, to the cold and rainy country of Cape Horn. But the beautiful, sunny, happy Chile lies between these two extremes. In that delightful part, grow barley, wheat, grapes; and herds of cattle and horses feed on the rich grass. Each year, Chile sends quantities of grain as well as of iodine, nitrates, and wool, to the markets of our United States, and to those of other countries as well.

In Chile, thousands of school children in the cities, towns, and villages are taught to honour the name of Bernardo O’Higgins, who founded their Government, Chile’s “first Soldier, first Citizen.”

The children of Chile keep their Independence Day on February 12, while our children in the United States are celebrating Lincoln’s Birthday.

ONE OF TWENTY

Chile is only one of twenty flourishing Latin American Republics. They are called Latin American, because they were settled by Latin Races, Spanish, French, or Portuguese.

There are eighteen Spanish-American ones; one French, Haiti; and one Portuguese, Brazil. In these twenty Republics there are more than 75,000,000 people.

This book is too short a one in which to tell about all the Liberators of these Republics.

There was Toussaint l’Ouverture, the extraordinary coloured man, an ex-slave, who liberated Haiti. Haiti was the first Latin American Republic to declare its Independence.

In Peru, there was Tupac Amaru, the brave young Indian Cacique, a descendant of the “Child of the Sun” whom Pizarro conquered. He tried to liberate his people from Spain, but was captured with all his family, and put to death.

In Paraguay there was the tyrant-liberator Francia, about whom that fascinating romance in English, El Supremo, tells. While La Banda Oriental, as Uruguay used to be called, had for a Liberator, the bold bandit-like Artigas. In Mexico, it was the priest Hidalgo who roused the Mexican People to revolt against Spain.

The Peoples of the eighteen Spanish-American Republics, are not one People like those of our United States, living at peace under one Government and governed by one Constitution.

They are not a Union. Instead, each is a separate Republic. Each may do as it pleases without consulting the welfare of the others. This at times, brings about bad feeling, and even war.

But to prevent war and bloodshed, some of these Republics have adopted a better way.

THE BETTER WAY

To-day, high on a ridge of the Andes Mountains, high, high above the level of the sea, stands a gigantic bronze monument. It is a figure raised on a pedestal. In one hand it holds a cross, while it extends the other hand in blessing.

The winter winds sweep against it with driving storms of snow. The summer winds whirl drifts of sand around its base. But with peaceful look, the figure gazes far beyond the black rocks, frozen peaks, and rushing torrents of the Andes, toward the busy world of men.

On its base is inscribed:—

It is the figure of El Cristo[7] of the Andes. It is a monument standing close to a lonely trail, once the highway from Argentina into Chile. It was erected a few years ago by the Republics of Chile and Argentina.

It happened this way:—

The two Republics had disputed for years over the boundary line which passed along the crest of the Andes. Each claimed a large share of valuable territory. Neither would allow the other to settle the boundary line.

Sometimes, the Argentine soldiers, patrolling the frontier, would find the Chilean patrol camping on the disputed ground. The two patrols would have angry words and nearly come to blows. So the bad feeling grew worse until both Republics were ready for war.

Then the Chileans and Argentines remembered that their grandfathers and great-grandfathers, under San Martin and O’Higgins, had fought side by side, and had shed their blood together in the cause of Independence. They could not bring themselves to slaughter each other, for they were brothers.

They agreed to arbitrate. They appealed to England to decide the boundary line for them. King Edward the Seventh sent a commission to the Andes, which surveyed the region to as far south as Cape Horn. The King gave his decision. Thus the boundary question was settled without bloodshed. Though Chile was not quite satisfied, she loyally stood by the King’s decision.

So the conflict was stopped, good feeling returned, and the Republics were saved from the horrors of war.

To commemorate this great event,—the better way of settling a Nation’s quarrel by Arbitration,—the Argentines and Chileans erected El Cristo.

The figure was cast from the metal of old cannon left by the Spanish soldiers when they were driven from the land by O’Higgins and San Martin. It is twenty-six feet high, and is mounted on a huge pedestal. Near it is set up a boundary-marker inscribed on one side Chile, and on the other, Argentina.

El Cristo of the Andes was dedicated. Several thousand people were present. The vast solitudes of the Andes were broken. Cannon roared and bands played. Then the Bishop of Ancud spoke:

“Not only to Argentina and Chile,” he said, “do we dedicate this monument, but to the World, that from this it may learn the lesson of Universal Peace.”

Years have gone by since then. To-day a railroad takes travellers over the mountains by another route. They no longer pass the bronze figure that pleads for Peace.

“The peon with a mail-bag strapped on his back has tramped his way for the last time down the rocky trail in the winter-snows,” writes Mr. Nevin O. Winter, who has seen El Cristo. “El Cristo stands among the lonely crags deserted, isolated, and storm-swept; but ever with a noble dignity befitting the character.”

But Chile and Argentina have not yet forgotten their pledge. They are still showing the World the Better Way—the way of Arbitration and Peace.