At the Point of the Sword

  CHAPTER XVII.

  DUTY FIRST.

  As far as we in Peru were concerned, the winter of 1821-22 passedwithout disturbance; but Colonel Miller busied himself in drilling thenew regiment of Peruvians which had been placed under his command. Ashe had made me his aid-de-camp, we were much together, and he paidfrequent visits to our house, where he was always gladly welcomed.

  Owing to my father's office, I saw a great deal at this time of theprotector, who treated me with extreme kindness. Although such a greatsoldier, he had no love for war, and planned to bring about the realindependence of the country without fighting.

  "I do not wish the Peruvians to kill each other," he repeatedlydeclared. "I wish them to live at peace with each other; and wheneverthey are ready to do that I will step aside, so that they may choosewhatever kind of government they please."

  My father, who admired him greatly, several times pointed out thedangers that loomed ahead.

  "You are reckoning without Bolivar," said he. "He has already driventhe Spaniards from Venezuela and Colombia, and is steadily pushing theminto Peru. He will follow them and mix himself up with our affairs.He is mad with ambition, and you will find there is not room enough forboth of you in one country."

  "In that case I will go away," answered San Martin, with a sad smile."I am here, not for my own good, but for that of Peru."

  "After bearing the heat and burden of the day, you will give up yourjust reward? It is monstrous!"

  "I seek no reward, Crawford; I seek only the happiness of Peru. Inorder to gain that I shall willingly sacrifice myself."

  "We will not permit it, general!"

  "You must, because it is your duty. Having made South Americaindependent of Spain, it would be sheer wickedness to turn and rendeach other. Let Bolivar have the glory. I shall have a quietconscience. But it seems to me that we are giving substance toshadows. Bolivar will join hands with me. We shall establish a stronggovernment in Peru; then having done our duty, each will retire."

  My father shook his head, saying, "You are mistaken; General Bolivar'sambition is to make all South America into one country, with himself atthe head. Nothing less than that will content him."

  "Then he will fail," answered San Martin. "Let us hope he will notdrag the country to ruin with him."

  About this time, March 1822, news reached us that our forces at Ica hadmet with a terrible defeat. By a swift and daring march, the Spanishgeneral, Canterac, had thrown his army against them with startlingsuddenness. They tried to retreat, but, being attacked in the night,were cut to pieces, and an enormous quantity of stores passed into thehands of the Royalists. The news cast a gloom over the city, and manyweak-kneed Patriots lost their heads entirely. Unless we could obtainhelp from General Bolivar, they cried, our cause was undone. My fatherdid not believe this; he distrusted Bolivar, and made no scruple ofsaying so.

  "Still we must find out just what he means to do," remarked San Martinone evening.

  "His intentions are evident," replied my father, rather bitterly. "Hemeans to make himself master of the country, and to push you aside."

  "I think you misjudge him; but in any case I place the happiness ofPeru before personal ambition.--By the way," he added, turning to me,"have you ever seen this remarkable man?"

  "No, general."

  "Would you like to do so? Ah, I see you would. Well, you shall. I amgoing to meet him at Guayaquil; you shall go with me, unless yourfather objects."

  "I have no objection, general. It will do him good, by opening hiseyes!"

  "Very well; let him be ready to-morrow morning. I will let ColonelMiller know of the arrangement."

  "Jack," exclaimed my father when San Martin had gone, "this is a greathonour for you. I don't expect the protector will take any one else,except Guido, who goes with him everywhere. I almost envy you, my boy,for San Martin and Bolivar are certainly the two most wonderful men inSouth America."

  "Will there be any danger?" asked my mother.

  "I think not; the visit is a friendly one."

  The next day, having put on my gaudiest uniform, blue with red facings,white edging, and abundance of gold lace, I went over to Callao,meeting the general and his "aid" just as they were embarking on theschooner _Macedonia_. As usual, the general looked grave and ratherstern. He was very silent too, and as the schooner slipped from hermoorings he disappeared within his cabin. Guido, who shared a cabinwith me, was far less reserved than his chief.

  "This is a fool's errand," said he brusquely. "The protector is justplaying into Bolivar's hands."

  "He knows what he is doing, I think."

  "That makes me the more angry. But for him the Spaniards would stillbe in possession of Peru; and now, rather than make a bother, he'll letthe other fellow take the prize."

  "What would you have him do?"

  "Do?" cried he excitedly; "why, stand his ground. I would say, 'I havedone all the hard work, I have made Peru free, and I am going to bemaster of the country. Let Bolivar or any one else come here at hisperil!'"

  "Then there would be a three-cornered fight, and the Spaniards wouldhave the best of it!"

  "That wouldn't be San Martin's fault. Do you think Bolivar cares howthe country suffers as long as he comes out on top? Not he!"

  "If that is so, San Martin is certainly playing the better part."

  "The better part? a fig for the better part! He can beat Bolivar andthe Spanish put together if he chooses. He is far and away the finestgeneral in South America."

  "And one of the best men, if he acts as you say he will."

  But Guido was much too angry to take that view. When I added thatwithout Bolivar's help we could hardly reduce the Spaniards tosubmission, he laughed scornfully and turned away.

  On the evening of July 25, 1822, the _Macedonia_ dropped anchor in theharbour of Guayaquil, and immediately afterwards two of Bolivar'sofficers came on board with a friendly greeting from their chief.

  "Caramba!" muttered Guido beneath his breath, "it makes me mad! It'slike the old custom of garlanding a victim before offering him up as asacrifice!"

  That night we slept on the schooner, disembarking the next day. Theroute was lined by Bolivar's soldiers, who saluted stiffly, and bythousands of people cheering wildly for their renowned visitor.

  "There it is, you see," whispered Guido; "the people want San Martin.If they had their way, Guayaquil would be a part of Peru, with him aspresident."

  "But they haven't," said I, "and Bolivar has; which makes all thedifference."

  "Look!" exclaimed he contemptuously, as the carriage stopped; "isn't itlike a circus show?"

  In front of a house stood a group of officers dressed in the mostmagnificent and gorgeous uniforms. As San Martin stepped from thecarriage, one of them, moving a pace forward, embraced him.

  "That's Bolivar!" whispered Guido, and I gazed at the great captainwith intense interest.

  Perhaps I was prejudiced against him, but he did not come up to myexpectations. He was short, thin, and narrow-chested, his skin wassallow, his high but narrow forehead was deeply lined. His hair wasblack and curly; he had thick lips and beautiful white teeth, which hewas fond of showing. His eyes were large and black but deeply sunken;now bright and sparkling, again dull and glassy. His features, to meat least, were harsh and unpleasing; but he was evidently a man ofgreat energy, to whom action was as the breath of life.

  Arm in arm the two leaders entered the house, Guido and I followingwith Bolivar's staff. The saloon presented a striking scene, beingfilled with officers in brilliant uniforms and by beautifully-dressedladies. A young girl, stepping forward, greeted San Martin, and placeda laurel wreath of gold upon his head.

  "What rubbish!" muttered Guido testily. "Does she think he is as greata mummer as Bolivar?"

  "Hush!" I whispered, not wishing his outspoken comments to be heard."See, he is taking it off."

  We could not hear what he said, but he spoke pleasantly, and beckoningto
Guido, placed the wreath in his hand.

  "Take great care of this," said he; "I value it highly for the sake ofthe giver."

  "Bolivar would have worn a dozen, one on top of the other," growledGuido.

  Presently the two chiefs proceeded to an inner room, where theyremained alone for nearly two hours, while we chatted with the Bolivianofficers, several of whom were Englishmen.

  At length the door opened, the leaders came out, and San Martinaccompanied Bolivar to the street, where they parted with a show ofcordial friendship. Directly afterwards the assembly dispersed, and wewere left in peace. The next day they had a much longer interview, andat its close I read in San Martin's face that he had resolved tosacrifice himself for the good of Peru.

  "Guido," said he quietly, "let the baggage be taken aboard. They aregiving a grand dinner in my honour this evening; as soon as I can getaway, we sail for Callao."

  The banquet, which was held in the house set apart for Bolivar, was onthe most magnificent scale. The room was bright with showy uniforms;every one appeared to be covered with stars and crosses anddecorations. I almost regretted that my silver key was not danglingoutside my tunic.

  San Martin sat in the chair of honour at the right of our host. Of allthe good things set before him he ate and drank little, his thoughtsbeing evidently far removed from the banqueting-room.

  This was the first time I had been at a public dinner, and but foranxiety on our leader's account, I should have enjoyed it immensely.Presently, when the servants had removed the dishes, Bolivar filled hisglass with wine, and stood up. Instantly the buzz of conversationceased; the officers gazed intently at their chief, who was about topropose a toast. I listened too, wondering if my ears were playing mefalse. As to Guido, I thought that, in his scornful contempt, he wouldhave kicked the table over.

  "Gentlemen," said our host, "to the two greatest men of SouthAmerica--General San Martin and myself!"

  There was a round of cheering, while Guido and I hardly dared look ateach other, and not at all at our chief.

  Soon afterward we adjourned to the ballroom, but did not stay long, SanMartin saying, "Let us go; I cannot stand this riot!"

  Quietly bidding Bolivar farewell, we followed one of the highofficials, who let us out through a private door, and escorted us tothe quay. There we boarded the schooner, which in less than an hourwas under way. The protector went straight to his cabin withoutspeaking. He was bitterly disappointed at the result of the interview,but all that passed his lips on the subject was, "Bolivar is not theman we took him to be." These words were said as we paced the decktogether next morning, and they were spoken more to himself than to us.

  "It has happened as I predicted," remarked Guido that afternoon, "andthe rest will follow. As soon as he has put things in order, he willleave Peru to make room for Bolivar. And he will not let people knowthe reason; he will even make Bolivar's path smoother."

  "You would plant it thick with thorns, I suppose?"

  "I would plant it with naked swords!"

  "Ah, Guido," I cried, "that is not San Martin's teaching!"

  "No," said he surlily; "it's a lesson of my own composing."

  The voyage passed uneventfully, and on the twentieth of August the_Macedonia_ once more sailed into the Bay of Callao.

  During our absence a riot had taken place in Lima; but the peoplereceived San Martin enthusiastically, coming down in thousands to theport, and escorting him to his country house in triumph.

  I said little of what had taken place to any one except my father, andhe was able to judge of things by other signs. The protector, who toldhim Bolivar had agreed to help Peru with troops, worked feverishly dayand night, until the opening of the first Peruvian Congress. Thenremoving his sash of authority, he resigned his office, and formallyhanded over the care of the country to the new Parliament. That sameevening my father and I called at his house, where we found Guido, everfaithful, waiting in the anteroom.

  "Where is the general?" asked my father.

  "Here, Crawford!" answered San Martin, opening the door of an innerroom. "Is anything wrong?"

  "No, general, but I fear there soon will be. Do you know it iswhispered in the town that you are about to leave Peru?"

  "The rumour is correct, my friend, as I have just been telling Guido.No, it is useless to talk; my mind is made up. I can do the country nomore good."

  For a long time both Guido and my father tried to prevail upon him tostay, but in vain.

  "The world will regard you as a deserter!" urged Guido.

  "What matters it as long as I know the truth? I care not for theapplause of the world, my friends, nor fear its frowns. I leave mywork unfinished, it is true, but others will finish it and reap theglory. Besides, Peru will be the better for my absence."

  "No, no!" exclaimed my father earnestly. "The people love you andtrust you. They will uphold your authority."

  San Martin held out his hand, saying,--

  "You are a true friend, Crawford, but you are a true patriot and ashrewd man as well. Now listen to me. Without help it will take twoyears at least to subdue the Spaniards. That will mean two years ofmisery. Do you follow me?"

  "Perfectly."

  "With help the war can be brought to an end in six months. TheChilians can do no more, and we can look only to Bolivar. Now, do youimagine that he and I can run in double harness?"

  My father shook his head sorrowfully.

  "Of course not. Bolivar is a great man, a remarkable man; but he isambitious, and will brook no rival. Now, suppose I remain. It will bedifficult to avoid strife, and the country will be plunged back intoits old condition of slavery. Do you think that San Martin will give aday of delight to the common enemy? No, my friend; if only Peruretains its independence, I care nothing for self. Let men call mewhat they please. The path of duty lies plain before me; I am going towalk in it. Let Bolivar have the glory; it is but a breath. I shallnot say this publicly; neither will you. I am broken in health; letthat do for the present. In years to come, perhaps, the world willrecognize my good faith; if not, never mind!"

  Even after that my father endeavoured to dissuade him from going, buthis efforts were useless.

  "Let me wish you good-bye, Crawford," said he. "I need hardly counselyou to accept the help which Bolivar offers. The man may not pleaseyou, but--country first!--Good-bye, my boy; if you make half as good aman as your father, you will not do amiss."

  We grasped his hand for the last time, and leaving Guido with him, wentinto the road, mounted our horses, and rode slowly homeward.

  Next day it became known that San Martin had left Peru for ever, andinstantly men's tongues were loosed in a babel of talk. Some fewjudged him rightly; but for the most part his splendid services wereforgotten, and with sickening haste people turned their gaze towardBolivar, the new sun.

  "There is a lesson for you, Jack, worth heeding," remarked my father."If only these people knew the truth!"

  "They wouldn't understand it!" said I hotly. "The idea of a man makingsuch a sacrifice is beyond them. You know I have sometimes thought thegeneral made a big mistake in the conduct of the war, but he atoned foreverything last night. He looked simply splendid when he talked aboutgiving up everything for duty."

  "Ah!" exclaimed my father thoughtfully, "with all his battles to lookback upon, he never won a greater victory than he did last evening. Itmust almost have broken his heart, Jack, but he did not whimper."

  Few spoke in this strain, and I was disappointed that even Jose tooksides with the majority. Sentiment, beyond his love for us, did notappeal to him; he looked only on the practical side of things.

  "I shouldn't have thought San Martin would have thrown up the sponge,"said he. "I gave him credit for more pluck than that. They do say inthe town that he was keen on making himself king or emperor."

  "A pack of rubbish!" I cried.

  "Well," said Jose, "I would have seen the thing through, anyhow. Itwon't be pleasant
for your father, either, when Bolivar gets thewhip-hand. San Martin's friends will be in Bolivar's black books.I'll guarantee Montilla has written to him already."

  "You aren't in a very good temper this morning, Jose," said I, with alaugh.

  "No; because I am looking a long way ahead, and see things. Is yourfather going to keep in office?"

  "I expect so. He may be able to do the country a little good."

  "And himself a lot of harm! Shall you resign your commission?"

  "How can I? the Spaniards are still in the field."

  "And will take a lot of beating yet! 'Twould have answered better ifthe Peruvians had done the job by themselves."

  I might have mentioned that if they found it so difficult with the aidof others, they could hardly have done it alone; but dear old Jose wastoo angry for argument, so I let the subject drop.

  Among the officers opinion was divided, but no one had much to say onthe matter. It almost seemed as if they feared to express their realopinion in case of future trouble. Colonel Miller, however, spoke hismind freely, and so did the other Englishmen with him.

  "I am sorry San Martin has gone," said he; "but my duty is plain. I aman officer in the army of Peru, and must obey orders from thegovernment. If they give the chief command to Bolivar, why, I shallfight under him, just as I have done under San Martin. That's one goodthing about soldiering--you always know where you are."

  "Humph!" said Jose, on hearing the remark, "I'm not so sure that thecolonel's right. In my opinion there's more than one soldier just atpresent wondering if he hadn't better join the other party again.Another affair like the one at Ica would send them flying to Canteracin scores. The great thing with some of them is to be on the winningside."

  As soon as San Martin had left Peru, Bolivar sent a message, offeringthe aid of his troops; but the government declined all assistance. Anew spirit seemed to enter into the nation: the people declared thecountry would fight its own battles, and preparations to meet theSpaniards were eagerly pushed on.

  What came of them we shall shortly see.