by John Lynch
A Second Front
From August 1818 Bolívar turned his mind towards the liberation of New Granada. In that month he sent General Santander to Casanare as governor and vanguard of a greater expedition. Casanare was a semi–desert, a poor and underpopulated province, but it was the sanctuary of New Granadan independence. It provided a nucleus of another army and it could become a base for an invasion of New Granada. Santander explored and exploited the weaknesses in the royalist position, the failure of leadership by the young Spanish commander, General José María Barreiro, demoralization and desertion by his troops, and renewal of resistance among the llanero guerrillas. Barreiro complained that his troops and officers were unpaid, the whole army on half rations and badly clothed; and creoles, who were in the royal army not for love of the king but for what they could get, were deserting in droves to the enemy. By May 1819 Santander was able to report to Bolívar that Casanare was clear of royalists, ‘enthusiastic for its independence’, and ready for its role in the campaign. ‘Have no worries about Casanare.’14
It was a bold and difficult strategy, and in the scale of risks Bolívar had to weigh breakthrough against impasse. In Venezuela the revolution was at a standstill. In the Apure, it is true, Páez skilfully frustrated all Morillo’s attempts to destroy him. Reinforcements were arriving to strengthen the patriot armies. Bolívar was optimistic, declared his troops comparable to ‘the best in Europe’, and believed that the military argument could now be won: ‘There is no longer imbalance in weapons of destruction.’15 But the republic found it impossible to crush the royalists. Its army needed action and victories, beyond skirmishes and sieges in the llanos. Could these not be attained more easily in New Granada?
The royalists in New Granada were more vulnerable, particularly exposed to a rapid invasion. Spanish rule – which meant in effect ten thousand troops, most of them Americans and disaffected and only two hundred reliable Spaniards – was spread over a vast area between Cartagena and Quito, and fully occupied with internal security and the problems of its own troops, ‘sick, underpaid, ill supplied and divided’.16 The government too was divided. Viceroy Francisco Montalvo’s policy of conciliation was opposed at every turn by Morillo, whose hard line aroused the creoles, while his weakened army could not contain them. Montalvo’s successor, the brutal Juan Sámano, inspired fear and loathing in equal measure. The royalist reconquest was cracking under the strain and paying for its years of oppression, racial abuse, forced recruitment, labour levies and financial exactions. These were self–inflicted blows before Bolívar had even struck.
Even so, there were risks for Bolívar. Success depended on the rapid penetration to the heart of Spanish power, and this too meant traversing great distances. And behind him Bolívar would leave a weak government and a number of semi–independent chieftains. Yet to switch the theatre of war from one country to another would have a magical effect and in itself constitute a rare moral victory. Bolívar could lure Morillo from Venezuela and, if the operation were successful, return to his homeland from a position of strength and with greater striking power. ‘We will force Morillo either to evacuate Venezuela in order to defend New Granada, or alternatively to allow the latter to be entirely lost.’ This was his argument to Páez. And to New Granadans he proclaimed, ‘The day of America has arrived and no human power can hold back the course of nature guided by the hand of Providence.’17
In March 1819 Bolívar once again left Angostura for the Apure, proceeding up the Orinoco accompanied by a battalion of three hundred Englishmen under Major John Mackintosh. In Arauca Páez had been conducting a perfect guerrilla campaign, luring the advancing forces of Morillo to the limits of their endurance. Now the Liberator himself took command in gruelling actions against Morillo. Páez again distinguished himself. At Las Queseras del Medio he led his cavalry in the vuelvan caras tactic, a spectacular about–turn from feigned retreat into lightning attack which cost Morillo heavy casualties. These inconclusive actions of Bolívar’s final campaign in the llanos, a time of marching and fighting, crossing and recrossing the Arauca, avoiding defeats and grasping victories, proved to be a time of truth in the career of the Liberator. His colleagues were inspired by his mere routine. He arose at daybreak and visited the various units, advising and encouraging. He accompanied the army with his staff officers, dismounted at midday to wash and eat, then to issue orders and dictate his correspondence from his hammock, and so to continue the march until it was time to camp in woods or the open fields. The officers who accompanied him at that period recalled ‘his incomparable activity and his vigilance, not only in regard to the fate of the Republic but also in regard to that of the very least of his soldiers’.18 He was then thirty–five years old, at the height of his mental powers and as fit as he would ever be. He was also alert to dangers to his life, and not only on the battlefield, as his staff knew:
Once, in the plains, he arrived with his staff at a hato, where he thought to remain till the next day. A girl, whose pretty figure had smitten him, held forth an inducement by offering to partake of his bed. Whether he suspected that all was not right, or that it was more convenient for the next day’s journey to proceed a little farther, I forget. But he left the house. The girl, who was not a patriot, had dispatched a message to a Spanish outpost not far distant and, had he not decamped, he would have fallen into their hands.19
On 15 May he received news of Santander’s success against the royalists in Casanare. This was the moment of decision. On 20 May he warned his commander that he was contemplating an operation in New Granada and that he should have all his forces ready to move in conjunction with other units as soon as he received orders: ‘I don’t yet know the precise day, nor have I decided on the way to do it, so I am only telling you of the move in advance and stressing the need for absolute secrecy, without which nothing can be done. This is for your eyes and yours alone.’20 Yet Morillo, briefed by his spies, had already guessed the Liberator’s intentions and the direction he would take, and he regarded it as the most critical challenge he had yet faced.
Bolívar quickly decided that the day had come to open his second front, to make New Granada the fulcrum on which the revolution could turn, east to Venezuela and south to Quito and Peru. He announced the invasion – though not his real route – to his colleagues on 23 May in a council of war held in a ruined cabin in the deserted village of Setenta on the right bank of the Apure, where the only seats were the skulls of cattle bleached by the rain and sun of the plains.21 Present were Soublette, Anzoátegui, Briceño Méndez, Cruz Carillo, Irribarren, Rangel, Rooke, Plaza and Manrique. All those there approved the plan, though among others there was some scepticism and Páez proved to be uncooperative. But the caudillos had little to lose. All the risks were Bolívar’s. And what alternatives had he? Would it not be suicidal to remain and winter in the llanos, his forces exposed to the rains, consumed by yellow fever and malaria and open to desertion and dissolution? And he covered his back. In the following days he took the necessary steps to explain his plan to the government of Angostura, and to give precise instructions to Mariño, Bermúdez, Urdaneta and Brión. Nothing was left to chance. Bolívar was a consummate planner. But planning was not enough to bring in Páez. Bolívar cultivated him carefully and explained his plan at every step of the way. He instructed him to move on Cúcuta to cut the enemy’s communications with Venezuela. Páez made excuses and refused. Bolívar requested three hundred horses out of the llaneros’ sixteen hundred. Páez sent him two hundred ‘skinny and mangy mares’.22 Bolívar did not hide his disgust.
On 27 May 1819 the Liberator left the upper Apure to join with Santander and cross the Andes. Only then, in Guasdualito, did he publish the destination. He led his small army – four infantry battalions, three cavalry squadrons, 2,100 men in all – to one of the sublime actions of the war of liberation, when all the frustrations of recent years – the disunity, the insubordination, the poverty, the social and racial conflict – were suddenly overcome by great fe
ats of will, courage and discipline. His senior officers, Soublette, Anzoátegui, Rooke, were ardent young men ready to follow Bolívar to the end, and all his junior officers were eager for action under his command. They crossed the Arauca and the savannahs of Casanare just as the season of torrential rain was beginning, the land a spate of streams, rivers, lakes and swamps, the soldiers splashing, swimming and rowing to move ahead. ‘For seven days,’ reported o’Leary, who was now Anzoátegui’s aide–de–camp, ‘the troops marched with water up to their waists, camping in whatever dry patches they could find, with only a blanket for protection, or rather to cover their weapons and ammunition.’23 This was only the beginning, before a month’s march through Casanare.
After the junction with Santander at Tame the joint army waded through further floods to Pore, a prelude to the ascent of the mighty cordillera. Men bred in the plains and tired from marching twenty miles a day through sodden terrain now had to endure the towering Andes, suffering exposure in the freezing rain, exhaustion as they struggled up mountain after mountain, and altitude sickness as they crossed at a height of thirteen thousand feet through the toughest of all the passes, the bleak Páramo de Pisba. The rain came down in sheets. ‘The harshness of the mountain is incredible to anyone who has not felt it…. It hardly stops raining, day and night,’ reported Bolívar. ‘I almost despaired as I observed the difficulties that grew every day, and only grim determination to stick to my plan kept me going.’24 There was another truth: only his own extraordinary leadership could explain why the army should follow him in these conditions. Men, animals and equipment were lost in great numbers; the cavalry, the pride of the army, were losing their mounts every day; to lie down was to suffer the sleep of death. A quarter of the British legion perished on the march, but one British wife marched on carrying her baby, born on the crossing.
On 6 July the exhausted survivors began to reach the other side of the mountains at the village of Socha, their uniforms in tatters, their boots worn through, many officers reduced to wearing alpargatas. Richard Vowell, who survived this test of endurance, reported: ‘Those who had been possessed of shoes on leaving the llanos, had long since worn them out; and very many, even of the officers, had literally no trowsers, and were glad to cover themselves with pieces of blanket, or whatever they could procure.’25 Local women were persuaded to strip off their clothes and give them to the men. There was no rest for Bolívar as he organized food and supplies, rounded up mules, brought in the sick and the stragglers, and reassured the New Granadans that the invaders were friends and fellow victims who sought nothing more than to ‘establish them as a free and independent nation’.26 It was a personal triumph for the Liberator; if the horrors of the crossing tested the spirit of the army, they also proved the character of Bolívar. ‘Here is where this man rises above all men, showing extraordinary energy and resolution. In three days he remounts and arms the cavalry, assembles the artillery, and regroups the army; he sends out numerous patrols against the enemy, encourages the villages, and prepares to attack in all directions.’27 A frank assessment; Santander, too, recognized that this man was superior.
From Bolívar’s camp south of Socha a rare campaign scene survives. Among the reinforcements brought by Soublette came an English unit under the irrepressible Colonel Rooke, a veteran of Waterloo, who wasted no time in presenting himself and congratulating the Liberator on the state of his army. Invited to join Bolívar at his frugal breakfast, Rooke assured him this was the tastiest meal of his life, and to queries concerning his troops he answered, yes, they were fine and had suffered nothing on the Pisba pass. Anzoátegui came up, looking gloomy and ill–tempered as usual. ‘What’s new, Anzoátegui?’ inquired Bolívar. ‘As if anything could be new,’ replied Anzoátegui, and asked if he had heard of the state of Rooke’s dragoons. ‘Yes, their colonel has just presented the most favourable reports and assures me that he suffered no losses on the páramo.’ It soon emerged that in fact a quarter of the English troops and two officers had died on the crossing. ‘I don’t deny it,’ exclaimed the incorrigible Rooke, ‘but they deserved their fate, for these were the worst of my troops and we are better without them.’ Bolívar could only smile at Rooke’s protestations, but the ever disgruntled Anzoátegui was not amused.28
Boyacá
The campaign continued. Bolívar’s genius had conceived the strategy, his leadership had brought them through, and now his inspiration took them forward, as he entered one of his greatest triumphs. On 25 July his army took the fight to the royalist force, rested and far superior in numbers, and at Pantano de Vargas earned victory from a hard day’s battle, won by sheer courage against all the odds – the royalist forces had the advantage of the higher ground – by Rondón’s llanero cavalry, the cool bravery of the few British troops, and the presence of Bolívar everywhere. Rooke was mortally wounded, o’Leary took a sabre cut across the head and there were casualties among other British officers, whose actions were recognized by Bolívar with the award of the Cross of Liberators the following day.29
Pausing only a few days to reorganize and recruit local patriots, vital assurance that liberation was a New Granadan enterprise as well as a foreign invasion, Bolívar moved forward again on 3 August, outmanoeuvring Barreiro, quietly occupying Tunja ahead of the royalists and then intercepting their retreat towards Bogotá at Boyacá. The young o’Leary, still active after his recent wound, was there to record the battle, and to see Bolívar, on 7 August, deliver the death blow to the royalists, attacking from each wing and with a decisive thrust through the centre. Santander’s unit stormed the bridge, while Anzoátegui attacked the centre of the royalist position. Soublette attributed the victory above all to the intrepid Anzoátegui, who led his infantry battalions and a squadron of cavalry into the heart of the enemy.30 But by now the enemy had lost heart. Isolated among a population alienated by their own actions, the royalists seemed to have no will to fight and simply turned and ran, demoralized by indecisive leadership against an army fired by its recent achievements.31 Caught between these fierce attacks, Barreiro surrendered and with the remnants of his army was taken prisoner. It was all over in two hours. The liberators, two thousand against three thousand royalists, suffered thirteen dead and fifty–three wounded. A number of British officers were killed or severely wounded. Rooke’s legion was rewarded with a new name, Batallón Albión, and all were honoured with the Star of the Order of Liberators.
The road to the capital, some seventy miles away, was now open. On 10 August, Bolívar entered Bogotá to find that the Spanish officials, authors of terror and fearful of retribution, had fled in panic to Cartagena. The hated Viceroy Sámano had departed so quickly – disguised as an Indian – that he had left a bag of money on his desk, to the great amusement of Bolívar. ‘In the Casa de Moneda,’ reported Soublette, ‘we found more than half a million pesos, and in the stores enough arms and equipment to supply a large army.’32
The victory of Boyacá set the seal of success on Bolívar’s authority and his strategy. He took pleasure and pride in the Boyacá campaign, ‘my most complete victory’. His great act of faith was fulfilled. The heart of New Granada was liberated, the royalists were scattered and soon Spanish resistance was confined to Cartagena and Cúcuta. Morillo said it all. Boyacá was a decisive victory: if the patriots had lost they could have picked themselves up and tried again; when the Spaniards lost, they lost a division and a province never to be regained.33 Official celebrations followed a month later. Bolívar, flanked by Santander and Anzoátegui, was received in a victory procession, with church bells, a Te Deum in the cathedral and a ceremony in the main square. Twenty young girls in white brought a crown of laurels to lay on the Liberator’s brow, who in turn passed it to his two companions and then threw it to the soldiers. Bolívar remembered the script from his triumph in Caracas. One of the girls, Bernardina Ibáñez Arias, dark eyed, attractive and only sixteen, caught his attention and retained it even when others pursued her; the winner was Colonel Ambros
io Plaza, a young officer under Bolívar’s command. Santander subsequently pleaded with Bolívar on behalf of the couple who wanted to marry and to have Plaza stationed locally. Bolívar asked, ‘Well, is Plaza married or not? No doubt you will be pleased for it will increase the number of young Granadinos. I too, for I love the young couple.’34 Six months later the story was still running.
Bolívar did not rest on his laurels but took immediate steps to preserve his prize from any counter–offensive that Morillo might launch. American troops were incorporated into the republican army. Soublette was sent with a strong division to occupy the valleys of Cúcuta and defend the frontier. Colonel Córdova was sent to drive the Spaniards out of Antioquia. Another unit was dispatched southwards to occupy Popayán. Beyond Popayán and in the highlands up to Quito the royalists still possessed a formidable stronghold. But the south, too, was already in Bolívar’s sights. In a proclamation to his soldiers he included the promise, ‘soon over rich Peru the combined flags of Venezuela, New Granada, Argentina, and Chile will be flying, and Lima will shelter in her bosom as many liberators as are the glory of the New World.’35 And at home nothing escaped his attention. From his own pocket he set up a pensions fund for the widows of victims of the Spanish occupation.