# Civilization and Barbarism/Chapter 14

CHAPTER XIV.
FRIAR JOSÉ FELIX ALDAO, BRIGADIER-GENERAL AND GOVERNOR.
On the 4th of February, 1817, the following incident happened in a deep, narrow valley of the Andes, through which the river Aconcagua rushes from rock to rock in its sudden descent. It was near sunset as the vanguard of the division, commanded by Colonel Las Heras, marched silently down the mountain towards Chili, by the rough, rocky road leading through Uspallata. The fort, known by the name of "La Guardia Vieja," was visible far down in the valley, and had the appearance of being entirely unoccupied, but a detachment of Spanish soldiers was concealed within, watching the approach of the insurgents, and prepared for a combat. Presently two discharges were fired from the fortifications; a company of the eleventh rebel regiment immediately advanced, firing, from the bank of the river to within twelve paces of the fort, while another defiled along the mountain side to prevent all possibility of the escape of the Spaniards. A moment afterwards they carried the walls at the point of the bayonet, and wherever the contest was most desperate, were seen flashing the swords of thirty grenadiers, under Lieutenant José Aldao. Among these was a strange figure dressed in white, like some ​phantom, and dealing blow after blow with wild ferocity. This was the chaplain of the division, who, carried away by excitement, had obeyed the order to charge, which, when given to the conquerors of San Lorenzo, was sure to be followed by a battle in which no quarter was given.
​Colonel Las Heras, in his official report of the battle of La Guardia Vieja, made favorable mention of the priest, for capturing two officers, which, according to military rule, gives a claim to promotion; and consequently, the priest who had made his first experiment in fighting at Guardia Vieja, appeared at the battle of Chacabuco in the uniform of a lieutenant of grenadiers, and won a soldier's laurels. Though he could never rid himself of his priestly title, he soon proved in his new career that he did not wear the sword in vain, and became renowned as a formidable warrior and an implacable enemy; known to the army and the public generally, as "El fraile," or the monk.
I will mention one of the many remarkable deeds performed by him at that time. In the pursuit after the battle of Maipu, a Spanish grenadier of gigantic stature was cutting his way through the surrounding enemies, and with each blow of his mighty sword stretching a lifeless body on the ground; the brave Lavalle attempted to approach him, but felt his eager valor cool whenever the confusion of the struggle brought them together. Aldao, seeing this, made his way up to the giant, and, instead of falling with the many other victims, beat aside the terrible sword and passed his own again and again through the body of the huge Spaniard, amidst the loud acclamations of his party.
But whatever honorable deeds in arms the recreant priest may have accomplished, his conduct would at any other time, or in any other circumstances, have covered him with opprobrium. Freed from the restraint hitherto imposed upon his inclinations by the ​priestly office, eager for pleasure, and perhaps impelled to excesses by the necessity for excitement in which men often seek to drown any possible remorse for a wrong step in life, the monk henceforth became famous for his disorderly habits; his private life being devoted to intoxication, cards, and women. But perhaps even these vices would have been forgiven, had they not outlasted the first excitement of unrestrained youth, and followed him to the end of his life. He abused even the large indulgence with which his companions in arms regarded his conduct, and though his commanders were very willing to make use of his courage, they took care to send him to a distance whenever it was possible to do so with advantage. Whatever differences of opinion there may be among men, all feel a repugnance at seeing a priest stained with blood, and given over to intoxication and vice.
Aldao had the rank of captain in the army which left Valparaiso under command of San Martin, to deliver Peru from the Spanish dominion. In that country, where the main body of Spanish forces was stationed, the insurgent army needed auxiliaries to harass the enemy on all sides, and act as reserve forces. For this purpose bands of guerrillas were organized in the mountains, which kept the royalists in continual alarm. These bands required bold, fearless commanders, who would risk everything to attain their ends, and who shrank from nothing, not even pillage and assassination. After taking part in the contests at Lacca and Pasco, Captain Aldao was sent to raise one of these bands and to act on his own responsibility, as circumstances should suggest. His own master, and within reach of no ​higher authority than himself, it can easily be conceived that his violence and unrestrained passions found plenty of victims among a timid people quite incapable of resistance. A characteristic incident soon happened. Aldao had determined to defend with his troop of Indians the bridge of Iscuchaca, but at the approach of a detachment of Spaniards, more than a thousand natives fled, thus losing their advantageous position, and without resistance delivering to the enemy an important post. Their furious leader, unable to prevent their flight, fell upon them as upon a flock of sheep, and did not cease slaying until a large heap of dead and wounded had fallen under the repeated strokes of his sword. However bloody might have been a contest at the bridge, and however deadly the fire of the Spaniards, fewer Indians would have fallen than thus lay on the ground, the victims of one man's anger.
The circumstances which occasioned the disbanding of San Martin's army, made it unnecessary for Aldao to remain longer in the mountains, and with the rank of lieutenant-colonel, he went to Lima, where fortune favored him at cards, until he had gained a large fortune, and then he left for Pasto. He there met a beautiful young girl of respectable family, with whom he became violently enamored, and who returned his passion. This was no passing fancy, but a deep, lasting feeling on both sides, only strengthened by the impossibility of a lawful union, which would ever be prevented by his priestly vows. Fortunately for him, she was unselfish enough to consent to be the mistress of a soldier whose epaulets could not conceal the stain of apostasy, and, leaving friends and country, she fled ​with him where the humiliation of her social position would be less known.
Aklao established himself at San Felipe, capital of the province of Aconcagua, where he became a merchant, and lived respectably; but the unfortunate pair were condemned to suffer the inevitable consequences of their false position, and the church which he had repudiated, would not quietly see him in the arms of another mistress. The curé Espinosa threatened to send him to Santiago to the tender mercies of the order he had abandoned, and finally forced him to remove to Mendoza, his native place, and carry there the scandal of his unlawful union. The church is ever bitter against those who have left her for social positions. If the monk Aldao could have married lawfully, perhaps his passions might have been moderated by the pleasures of home, and he might have been saved from the crimes of his after-life.
​On his arrival at Mendoza, in 1824, he took a farm at a little distance from the city, where he labored with commendable industry and intelligence, and where the only drawback to his happiness was the remembrance of the detested tie which still bound him to the church. In this retirement Aldao might have lived quietly to the end of his days, but unfortunately for himself and his country, echoes of arms and civil war once more resounded throughout the land, and he was drawn into that public life from which he was to escape only by death, loaded with crimes and pursued by endless maledictions.
The elements of destruction existing in the Argentine Republic were then in motion, and were soon to develop the cruel and despotic government which now crushes it. The brilliant but artificial government established by Rivadavia at Buenos Ayres, fascinated its immediate supporters, but provoked jealousies and opposition in the interior; divers ambitions were developing: the Caudillos were soon to appear; parties were just forming; the envy excited by a rich, powerful city in her poorer neighbors, clamored for a confederation; Spanish prejudices caused many men to oppose all reform; the presidential government seemed to many a foreign domination; all was chaos; the clouds preceding the hurricane gathered darkly on the horizon, and as the terror of birds indicates a coming storm, so the general uneasiness of men's minds signified that some mighty commotion was at hand.
Suddenly the storm burst upon San Juan with the cry of "Viva la Religion!" The government of ​Carril was overthrown, and in less than twenty-four hours a fiddler had become a general, a lame cobbler was making laws, and a clown deciding the fate of a country. One Maradona, a pretended old nobleman, was found to give some show of decency to the plebeian mob; and, unfortunately, deluded priests, believing it to be a question of religion, placed the cross at the head of this insurrection,—the beginning of the long series of crimes which brought the Republic to its present condition of barbarism. Two hundred citizens fled to Mendoza, and besought aid from the brave soldiers who had returned from Chili and Peru, Felix Aldao among the rest. He hesitated, and asked himself why he should leave the asylum in which both his glory and his shame were hidden; but finally consented, and under the command of his brother José, marched to San Juan at the head of a company which obtained an easy victory over the plebeian crowd, without a leader or officers capable of directing its enthusiasm.
The Aldao brothers returned to Mendoza covered with laurels, and provided by their friends with money obtained by exorbitant contributions imposed upon their enemies. But the Aldaos had acquired in the expedition something more than fame and money,—the knowledge of their own power,—and formed a brotherly league for the purpose of obtaining their ends. All three were colonels, all brave, intelligent, and capable.
This triumvirate has exercised a most pernicious influence in the Argentine Republic, never yet fully appreciated. After reconquering Chili, San Martin ​sent the first regiment of the Andes to San Juan with orders to raise a company of dragoons, and then to join the army which was to invade Peru. But José and Francisco Aldao with other rebels, executed a military maneuver which deprived the army of this expected aid. Most of the officers were assassinated, and the two regiments, not having succeeded in occupying Mendoza, where Colonel Alvarado and other forces of the army were stationed, attempted a disastrous retreat to Tucuman, and dispersed with the shame of having deserted their banners.
The stragglers of the disbanded regiments, in passing through Rioja, met with a man already conspicuous in the provincial rebellions, and whose name was destined to become terrible in Argentine history. This gaucho with keen black eyes, and a pale face, almost covered with a thick, curly black beard, obtained from the deserters their arms. The dream of years was realized; Facundo Quiroga was in possession of arms, and provincial barbarism, the brutal passions of the multitude, plebeian ambitions and prejudices, the thirst for blood and pillage, had at last their partisan, their gaucho hero, their spirit personified. Facundo Quiroga had arms, and men would not be wanting; one cry from him resounding from forest to plain, would bring about him a thousand mounted gauchos.
Ah! when will an impartial history of the Argentine Republic be written? And when will its people be able, without fear of a tyrant, to read the terrible drama of the revolution,—the well-intentioned and brilliant, but chimerical government of Rivadavia; the power and brutal deeds of Facundo Quiroga; and the ​administration of Rosas, the great tyrant of the nineteenth century, who unconsciously revived the spirit of the Middle Ages, and the doctrine of equality armed with the knife of Danton and Robespierre. Had the defense of Montevideo gloriously ended the revolutionary period, we should have an epic poem in place of history, and in forty years should have passed through all the changes and elaborations which have been developed in Europe only with the lapse of many centuries. That we have made for ourselves a military reputation, witness Brazil, Chili, Peru, Bolivia, and the Indians to the south of us; our victorious arms have been carried to the farthest extent of the continent. We have had our institutions, and contests of ideas and principles. And our future destiny is foretold in our numerous rivers, the boundless pasturage of our plains, our immense forests, and a climate favorable to the productions of the whole world. If we lack an intelligent population, let the people of Europe once feel that there is permanent peace and freedom in our country, and multitudes of emigrants would find their way to a land where success is sure. No, we are not lowest among Americans. Something is to result from this chaos; either something surpassing the government of the United States of North America, or something a thousand times worse than that of Russia,—the Dark Ages returned, or political institutions superior to any yet known.
José and Francisco, after bringing disorder into the army which was to invade Peru, and exciting revolts in the interior, were taken prisoners and carried to Lima, where they would have received punishment ​for their misdeeds, had not the monk, chief of the mountain guerrillas, appeared and interceded for them with San Martin, urging as a consideration his own past services. Francisco, after the battle of Agacucho, in which he served under Bolivar, returned to Chili, where he was engaged by Rivadavia's agents to go to Mendoza and organize a force to dislodge Facundo Quiroga, who had taken possession of San Juan. For Quiroga, having heard something of the agitation among the Catholics, lost no time in raising a black flag with a red cross upon it, and the words, "Religion or Death!" though it is very certain that he did nothing for the benefit of religion anywhere, and equally true that violence and death constantly followed his footsteps. It is singular to see how these restless Caudillos looked for some pretense to disguise their vague, undefined ambition.
A letter addressed to Quiroga by one of his partisans contains this statement: "We can't do anything more with 'Religion or Death,' general, it no longer makes an impression; confederation is the word for us now; let us have a Constitution, and we will carry it at the point of the bayonet." Yet Quiroga was assassinated while endeavoring to pursuade the Unitarios to join him for the purpose of destroying Rosas and the Federals.
Francisco Aldao arrived at Mendoza with ten thousand dollars, which he had received beforehand for the enterprise against Quiroga; but a consultation with his brothers caused him to change his mind, and keeping the money, he joined with them in forming the military trio from which Mendoza suffered so many ​outrages. From this moment the Aldaos labored secretly for the attainment of their own ends, the field being open to all unprincipled ambitions. They received an order to raise a regiment for the army a Brazil, and accepted it, with the intention of using the men for their own purpose.
Their ambition, however, met with an obstacle in the person of a Creole negro. This slave, who early showed the talent not unfrequent in descendants of the African race, had been carefully educated by his owners, and was in condition to make use of his natural endowments when occasion required. He began his career as his master's assistant, and was rapidly promoted, until he became commander of a battalion, which brought him in contact with the chief politicians of the time. Barcala was not only one of the most distinguished characters of the revolution, but his reputation was untarnished, and this could be said of very few in those lawless days. He was a man of refined manners, tastes, and ideas, and his success was owing to his own merit. He never forgot his color and origin. He acquired his fame in history through his rare talent for organization, and the gift which he possessed, in a high degree of conveying ideas to the masses; the lower classes were transformed by the magic of his power; and the officers and soldiers of his training were remarkable for their good behavior, decent dress, intelligence, and love of liberty. It was long before the impression made by Barcala in Mendoza was effaced; and in the revolution of 1840, against Rosas, a large battalion of infantry in Cordova still bore his name upon their banner, and resisted Rosas to the last. ​He had been in Cordova in 1830, and had inspired its artisans and laborers with the love of liberty and equalality, in the broadest sense of these terms; and, though he was now dead, his ideas remained in the hearts of the people.
Obscure men who rise to power through the chances of social revolutions, never fail to persecute in others the intelligence and knowledge which they have not themselves; when the ignorant rule, civilization is brought down to their own level, and woe to those who rise above it, be it ever so little. In France, in 1793, the sovereign people guillotined those who could read and write as aristocrats; in the Argentine Republic, men of culture were called savages, and had their throats cut, and though the name seems mere irony, it is something more when applied by the assassin, knife in hand. The Caudillos of the interior rid their provinces of all lawyers, doctors, and men of letters; and Rosas pursued them even within the walls of the university and private schools. Those who were allowed to remain were such persons as could be useful in getting up a repetition of the government of Philip II. of Spain, and of the Inquisition.
Barcala felt himself to be a gentleman, and united a spotless reputation to great professional knowledge, and a talent for strategy which placed him among officers of the first rank. He made himself famous in the army of Brazil, and Paz and other officers of note regarded him with a respect amounting to veneration. Quiroga, who shot all the officers made prisoners at Ciudadela, spared him the—only one who had fought until the last of his men were surrounded, and retreat ​was impossible. When offered his life on condition of serving under Quiroga, lie accepted only with the understanding that he was not to fight against his own party; and in him Quiroga gained a whole army.
Such was the man whom the Aldaos wished to put out of their way; not a very difficult undertaking, since Lavalle, the Aldaos, and Barcala himself were to unite in an expedition to overthrow Albin Gutierrez, who had declared against the national government. Barcala and Lavalle marched to join the army against the empire, and the Aldaos remained to oppress the people, and give themselves up to the pleasures of dissipation.
The triumvirate had made use of all parties, and had served all parties in order to rid themselves of influential men. The revolution in favor of the national government having succeeded, they joined with Quiroga for the purpose of destroying it. The Constitution arranged by the Congress of 1826, was offered for acceptance to the provinces. The agents of this Congress were received in a rather singular manner by Quiroga in behalf of San Juan, which he then occupied. Two or three hides, stretched over lances stuck down in the middle of a clover field, formed a tent to protect this caliph of the faithful—this divinely commissioned helper—from the rays of the sun; here Facundo was lying upon a black cloak, dressed in a crimson chiripa, red cloth mantle, and untanned boots.
Dr. Zavaleta, Dean of the Cathedral, and agent of Congress, was received in this palace, and stood embarrassed in the presence of the commander, who neither moved nor looked at him, until he stammered a few ​words about his mission. Facundo then stretched out his hand, received the paper containing the Constitution, and wrote in the corner in scarcely legible characters, "Despachado" and there was an end of the matter.
In Mendoza the result was no better. The agent from Congress pathetically expatiated upon the evils existing in the Republic, conjured all patriots to unite under a constitution which would insure universal order and harmony of government; but there was a threefold ambition to satisfy, so he made his touching speech with tears in his eyes in vain, and returned without having accomplished anything. The Constitution met with the same reception everywhere; not from the people, who were allowed no voice in the matter, but from the Caudilos, who desired to retain for themselyes entire liberty of action. The Constitution would have restrained them, whereas they required an open field for their ambitions, and pretexts for war,—religion, confederation,—anything to disguise the universal ambition. Thus the national government fell, and the celebrated Dorrego assumed the government of Buenos Ayres. The old Unitarios could not understand that Dorrego, with all his ambition and his intrigues, was nevertheless the only person who might have organized the Republic under a parliamentary form, and prevented it from being brought by Rosas under the rule of a cruel despotism which was to destroy all civilization and prosperity. Dorrego owed ​his elevation to the parliamentary chamber and the press of the opposition party, and he would never have destroyed the powers which had defeated the former presidency; but all were overthrown when the gaucho of the pampas came into power, who understood little, and cared less for liberty and individual rights. It was his way to accomplish his ends by cutting men's throats; and on this principle the Republic is now governed.
The 1st of December, 1828, and the fatal victory of Navarro, taught the Caudillos their own power, and one and all prepared for the struggle—the Aldaos in Mendoza, and Facundo in the Llanos. A regiment of auxiliaries was put in training at Mendoza under command of the monk-colonel, whose fame was not yet so great as that of his brothers. As soldiers of the War of Independence, they knew what discipline can accomplish, and the auxiliaries, thoroughly equipped and trained, occupied the right wing in the famous battle of Tablada, in which eight hundred veterans of the national army, commanded by the able General Paz, left three thousand enemies dead, after a two days' fight. Of the regiment of auxiliaries, sixty-five survived, with their colonel, who was wounded in the side.
While this monk-colonel was confined at San Luis, by his wound, he amused himself by reading atheistical books,—an apparently insignificant fact, yet it would seem to prove that there was a struggle still going on in his conscience, of which he would fain have relieved himself. Quiroga, after the defeat, fled to the Llanos; Aldao naturally went back to his brothers. But many changes had taken place in his absence: a ​division from San Juan marching to Cordova, revolted on the way, and joined the Unitarios, who were sanguine of success, but unskilled in the art of war. The two Aldaos then at Mendoza, pursued them, and after a few marches and countermarches, conquered them without firing a shot.
On returning to Mendoza, the victorious troops, hearing of the victory at Tablada, revolted and threw the power into the hands of the liberal party, which showed no more prudence than it had done at San Juan. These mistaken men persisted in immediately establishing their long-desired constitutional forms, respect for life being their great maxim, and parliamentary discussion their means of action. Their enemies took advantage of this infatuation to ridicule them, and to endeavor again to overthrow their plans, while a magnificent system of government was maturing under the direction of General Albarado.
The brothers José and Francisco were planning within their prison walls their reestablishment in power; while the monk presented himself in the neighborhood and with sixty men and the use of skillful intrigues, opened a campaign against a government dependent upon a fanatical people, two thousand men under arms, and a man of reputation at its head. The prisoners soon escaped, and the discussion of terms of conciliation by the feeble government, gave time and resources to the Aldaos. The die was cast, and the fate of Mendoza was decided. A month was sufficient for the army to be nemmed in, and even fired upon in the streets.
Facundo Quiroga sent several hundred gauchos from Rioja to aid the three colonels of Mendoza, who had ​assembled a considerable number of mountaineers. The government troops were exasperated at the inactivity in which they were kept by Albarado, and rebelled, insisting upon being led to battle. Finally the very sufferings of those who had felt the power of the Aldaos aroused them, and they went out to seek their enemies. In "el Pilar," of sad memory, they found themselves surrounded, not having taken a good position. In the evening twenty thousand shots were fired, and a hundred cannonades were discharged by the surrounded troops, and the next day the firing continued until twelve o'clock, yet they had not made their way out. The Aldaos knew that the ammunition was exhausted, and entrenched their men behind breastworks. Messages from Quiroga urged them to make no treaty, and to promise nothing. "We must," said he, "have as many enemies as possible to extort money from." But the people of Mendoza, hearing the incessant firing for two days, thought that by this time few survivors could remain, and the bereaved women ran through the streets entreating the priests and other influential persons to separate the combatants. A committee of priests approached the battle-field, selected neutral ground for a treaty, and it was agreed that all should submit to a government chosen by the people. The Aldaos must have laughed at the simplicity of their enemies, who were already conquered and prisoners, and yet maintained the proud bearing of free citizens. But Providence did not permit the farce to be enacted to the end, for it was to finish with a tragedy which filled even the actors with horror.
It was about half-past three in the afternoon when ​the treaty was completed; the soldiers stacked their arms, officers collected in groups congratulating themselves upon getting out of the difficulty so easily. Francisco Aldao came into the enemy's camp, where he was cordially received, and in the lively conversation which arose, many a jest was exchanged by men who had formerly been friends. At this moment an emissary from the monk presented himself, and demanded unconditional surrender, under pain of death. Cries of indignation burst from all sides, and Francisco was loaded with the most bitter reproaches, but he said with quiet dignity, "Sirs, there is nothing in all this; Felix has just dined, that is all." And he repeated these words with a peculiar emphasis, at the same time sending an aide to inform Felix that he was there, and that the slightest manifestation on his part would be a violation of the treaty.
The alarm spread rapidly, however, the cry of treason arose throughout the camp, and the officers were in vain calling upon the men to form, when six cannon balls were fired directly into the group in the midst of which Francisco Aldao stood. If the cannonade had been a moment later, José Aldao also would have been there, for he was just on the point of starting, when he was surprised by the discharge, and exclaimed, "That is the work of Felix,—he is drunk!" This was but too true, the monk was intoxicated, according to his usual afternoon custom; only a few days before they had been obliged to keep him in bed to save him from some gaucho enemies while in this condition.
Confusion prevailed everywhere, and reached its height at the approach of the Auxiliaries of Don Felix, ​and the Blues from San Juan. A moment after the monk himself came into the camp, and seeing a dead body lying upon a cannon wrapped in a cloak, a vague presentiment induced him to command the face to be uncovered; even then the fumes of the wine prevented him from recognizing it, and his attendants tried to make him withdraw, before he should perceive that it was his brother; but he again demanded sternly, "Who is it?" At the same instant he recognized Francisco, and struck his head violently with his fist, as if awakening out of a dream. Woe to the conquered! The carnage commenced, and he cried with a hoarse voice to his men, "Slay! slay them!" while he killed the defenseless prisoners about him. The officers were all cut down or left wounded and mutilated, without arms, without hands. Day closed before the butchery ceased, and the troops returned to the city, but every shot which broke the silence of the night, announced an assassination or the breaking open of some door. When the following day dawned, the pillage was still going on, and the sunlight revealed the outrages of the night.
The actors in this frightful tragedy were themselves stunned with the horror of their own work, and the monk became aware of all that he had done, and the death of his brother whom he had sacrificed. But he was not a man to show his remorse, and if he felt any he sought to stifle it by delivering himself up to intoxication and still further outrages. Thus the evil propensities which had been for a time under restraint, broke forth again; and revenge for his brother's death was an excuse for every excess. He had caused all ​the officers to be put to death on that uncontested battle-field; the next day he ordered the execution of all the sergeants, and on the next the corporals. Every time he became intoxicated his thirst for blood returned with redoubled fury, and there are still persons alive who heard him give orders for various assassinations, with minute directions as to the manner in which they were to be accomplished; that at such a spot, at such an hour, the legs of a certain victim were to be cut off; in another case the tongue was to be cut out, and in another the face was to be so mutilated as not to be recognized. Such deeds of barbarity were then unheard of and surpassed all imagination, but now they are common enough, and Buenos Ayres, Tucuman, Cordova, and Mendoza, have become familiar with still greater atrocities. Terror had then paralyzed the people, and when Quiroga arrived, he found it easy to obtain all the money he desired. There is still in existence an order which he drew upon the government for the payment of his gaming debts; for wherever he went the silence imposed by the terror of his name was only disturbed by rumors of punishments and executions for the purpose of obtaining means to carry on his games at the card-table. Mendoza remained under this evil influence, and a large army was prepared to resist General Paz.
During the monk's rage for blood, his wife or mistress saved the lives of many victims. His brother José, more considerate and more humane than himself, also tried to appease his fury, but with each evening came intoxication and unpremeditated outrages. From this time Aldao lived in a state of continual alarm, ​embittered by that horror of himself which was the only punishment he received in this world; for while his less criminal brother José was assassinated, he died a natural death, feared and obeyed to the last. But Providence works in secret and he will surely meet his deserts.
A new army commenced another campaign against General Paz. Aldao had filled up the vacancies in his company of auxiliaries, and Facundo had gathered an undisciplined crowd of four or five thousand men. Aldao was accompanied by Don José Santos Ortiz, who was intrusted with the mission of trying to induce Quiroga to join with Paz in carrying on the war with Buenos Ayres, and it seems that Quiroga came near accepting the propositi6n. Paz on his part sent Major Pawnero, a young man whose intelligence equaled his bravery, to make proposals of peace to Quiroga. But Quiroga's pride urged him to wipe out the mortification of his defeat at Tablado. The battle of Laguna Larga taught Quiroga that his heavy cavalry charges could not be always relied upon; a simple maneuver of the infantry on the other side decided the victory, and Quiroga fled to Buenos Ayres, leaving on the field his infantry, artillery, and baggage. During the pursuit of the fugitives, a stout man whose weight had exhausted his horse, was overtaken and thrown down by a lance. A soldier was about to make an end of him, when he cried, "Do not kill me, it is important to the nation that I should be taken alive to General Paz. I am General Aldao."
An officer took charge of him as far as Cordova, ​where a humiliating reception awaited him. Some officers from Mendoza, carried away by their desire for revenge, made him enter the town mounted upon a wretched animal, exposed to the insults of the people. "Wretch!" they shouted, "thou hast brought destruction upon thy country!" "I have also brought it much glory," replied the prisoner, with dignity, for the insults of his enemies had restored all his courage. He was then carried to prison, where he might reflect upon his past deeds in silence and solitude, and the retrospection became so intolerable that he excited the contempt of his jailers by his terror and childish exhibitions of alarm. He implored every one who came near him to tell him if anything was said about his death, and the ordinary noises about the prison filled him with fears, until at last he could no longer sleep at night, and never ceased his suspicious watch upon his jailers. Some priests undertook to reconcile him with the church, and whether through fear, or real repentance, he eagerly acceded to their propositions. One day while listening to Don José Santos Ortiz, he happened to look at a sentinel before his door, who knowing the terror he was constantly in, maliciously passed his hand across his own throat with a significant motion, and Aldao throwing the breviary from him, cried, "They will kill me to-day! they will kill me!"
His companion tried in vain to tranquillize him, by representing that he would have to be tried and legally condemned before he could be executed; he only became the more agitated, saying, "Ah, you have not done what I have done!" The soldier who had been famous for his bold, reckless audacity, did not dare to ​look death in the face, and showed the cowardice of a child.
In the mean time the people of Mendoza had again thrown off the yoke of the tyrants. Don José Aldao, unfortunately for himself, conceived the idea of escaping to the south, and trusting in the faith of the Indians; but the perfidious savages, having invited him and all his principal officers to a consultation, surrounded them; and though Don José succeeded in killing their chief, he and his friends, to the number of thirty, were all slain.
The people of Mendoza whom the monk Aldao had so terribly wronged, petitioned General Paz to deliver him up to them—and I mean the people in the largest sense of the word, for all had suffered by him more or less, and the craving for revenge seemed to be a disease which seized upon the whole community. No punishment could be invented severe enough for him; but at least a gallows should be erected for him in the field of Pilar, and it should be high enough for all the city to see him expire in the midst of their execrations. One committee after another was sent to Cordova to press their claim to the prisoner, as one connected in a peculiar manner with Mendoza, but General Paz was deaf to all these entreaties, and for the time there was still a chance that Aldao might some day escape from his prison.
The war recommenced about this time, and an accident which only an Argentine can understand, took General Paz from the head of his army. Having drawn up his men in a close column, he rode forward to a small eminence to reconnoitre, when, seeing a ​company of mountaineers coming out of the woods hard by, he supposed them to be some of his own troops whom he had disguised as gauchos, and commanded an aide to go and give them the necessary orders. The aide obeyed unwillingly, being somewhat suspicious of the new comers, and as he neared them was instantly shot, while at the same moment Paz was caught in a lasso, thrown from his horse, and was instantly in the hands of his enemies. The army, deprived of the commander whose presence always insured victory, retreated to Tucuman, and sent into the city for the prisoners.
​The battle of Ciudadela left the Republic once more at peace after the long previous struggle. The men who had been in favor of confederation had triumphed everywhere, from Buenos Ayres to Tucuman, and were now about to establish their form of government and to reconstruct the Republic. But instead of this, Facundo established a card-table in every city he visited; and with six hundred thousand dollars obtained by the year's conquests, went to Buenos Ayres to become the victim of another commander more astute than himself, who had determined to dispose of any man in the country who could in any way be his rival. The same indifference to the real interests of the people was manifested everywhere, and this state of things continued until 1840, though within the ten years Rosas established his power over the caudillos of the interior, while allowing them a nominal authority. The cities hoped than Facundo would reconstruct the Republic—a vain hope. They are now hoping that Rosas will be merciful to them if he succeeds in getting rid of his enemies.
Don Felix returned to Mendoza in 1832, and on his way through Rioja had an interview with Facundo, who had with him the noble Barcala. Aldao's first words were, "When are you going to shoot that negro?" Quiroga frowned and seemed ill-pleased; in fact he showed a haughty contempt for the monk, and wrote to the officers at Mendoza not to admit him into the army. But when Aldao presented himself, his personal influence was still too strong to be resisted, and the governor received him with offers of assistance, and bestowed upon him the title of commander-general of the frontier. He accepted the office, demanding at the ​same time that his salary should be paid from the date of his imprisonment at Tablado; he was evidently determined to secure for himself a comfortable and permanent establishment—the condition of the country seeming to promise peace and quiet for the present.
He took up his quarters in one of the southern forts, provided himself with a body-guard, and sent for a coarse, ignorant woman, by the name of Dolores, with whom he had become enamored in Rioja. Mendoza had for some time witnessed the jealous rivalry of his; Lima mistress and this Dolores, and the latter being finally victorious, her rival went back to Chili, leaving two illegitimate children. An unfortunate influence for the people was this utter disregard of morality—vice in its most repugnant forms,—an apostate priest, unchaste women, illegitimate children, whose illegal birth was also sacreligious. Aldao omitted no cares for his personal safety, and his body-guard never left him for a moment, not even when he sat at the card-table; and the fort from hall to cellar was one constant scene of dissipation. Excitement became more and more necessary to him, and when he visited the city he ordered preparations for card playing as if it were a regular part of public affairs. It is impossible to give an idea of the degradation into which this man had fallen, his debasing pleasures and entire forgetfulness of business. It is true that neither the Aldaos nor Quiroga ever really governed; they left to others the labors of the administration, while they reserved for themselves all the power.
Don Felix now governed Mendoza, through nominal governors who dared not displease him in anything; ​and his most casual remark uttered in his own fort, was enough to affect the government, and often became an absolute law. And this lasted for ten years, until constant intoxication brought his life to an end.
In 1832, Rosas prepared an expedition to the south, and invited the caudillos of the interior to cooperate with him for the protection of their respective frontiers, hoping by this means to make the pretext of an attack on the Indians cover an extensive military combination which he meant to use for his own elevation to power. Don Felix induced one tribe to attack another tribe, and deliver them prisoners to his troops; both tribes, however, united while on the way, and after putting to death sixty of the Mendoza soldiers, fled to the desert. Aldao followed and exterminated them, and this was all that was accomplished by the famous expedition; but Aldao made by it a valuable acquisition. Among the soldiers of his division was one Rodriguez, a man of great bravery, whom he took under his especial protection, and promoted to the command of a squadron. The monk was then becoming stout, incapable of action, and given up to intoxication, so that he would have been unable to sustain his power and reputation but for this Rodriguez, who, by proxy, still maintained the terror of his name.
Rosas having obtained absolute power in 1833, carefully studied the capacities of the various caudillos of the interior, that he might quietly bring them under submission; and this conquest of the provinces is one of the greatest acts of diplomacy accomplished by him. Soon afterwards he won over the auxiliaries of San Juan; had Quiroga put to death; got rid of his own ​tools, the Reinafés; deposed Cullen, of Santa Fé, and then had him shot; and made Benavides governor of San Juan in place of Yanzon. Barcala, the virtuous Barcala, was shot by the monk, who was now in the pay of Rosas. Brizuela, of Rioja, unrivaled for his brutality, was kept in command, notwithstanding the zeal of Benavides, his neighbor. Ibarra had quietly governed Santiago del Estero for eighteen years. In short, everything was arranged for the decline of the Republic into barbarism, when the despotic power of Rosas would be confirmed. Unfortunately there was no connected plan of resistance, no union, no leaders. Rosas had forbidden the passage of couriers throughout the interior, and the general want of confidence made any agreement between the cities impossible. The rebellion broke out, and the provinces joined in it one after another, but in the end were all forced to yield, paralyzed by the horrors of unheard-of outrages. Never was a revolution more universal or more ineffectual. Rosas would have lost his cause but for the weakness of his enemies.
​The appearance of a small force commanded by the brave young Alvarez, caused the division of Benavides to disperse; while the monk retreated, and by a rapid march reached Mendoza in time to put down the rebellion of the 4th of November. The people looked for nothing else than a repetition of the slaughter of 1829, but Aldao contented himself with some persecution and imposition of taxes. His rage for shedding blood seemed to have ceased, and from this time no such wholesale murders would have taken place in Mendoza but for his disciples, who had profited but too well by his former example.
Aldao again joined Benavides, and with him conquered Brizuela, both of them then taking up quarters in Rioja, in order to intercept the army under Madrid, which was approaching from the north.
One day the news came to San Juan that a division from Tucuman was near at hand, and eight hundred men went out to meet them, but were repulsed. Then Acha, the immortal Acha, went with a handful of men to meet the united forces of Benavides, Aldao, and Lucero, amounting in all to twenty-five hundred men, with four pieces of artillery; and this battle of Angaco is the one glorious event amidst the errors, failures, and defeats of that period.
Acha's men were only about four hundred, little disciplined, and unacquainted with the country, but to make up for these disadvantages, he had with him a number of truly patriotic young men of high standing in the army, and their enthusiasm gave to the little company the strength of double their number. As the troops of the enemy quietly took their position, Acha ​stood playing with a little switch, and with a smile which was habitual with him, pointed to the enemy and cried, "Rascals! now for real work!" The battle commenced, and a deadly firing was kept up for five long hours, the infantry of Benavides being within three yards of Acha's company; for Aldao had fled, leaving his companion to take care of himself. The young Alvarez, who was seriously wounded early in the contest, left a vacancy which could not be filled; and presently, when the men became discouraged and wavered in their resistance, he had his wound hastily bandaged and returned to his place, animating his soldiers by his eager enthusiasm, till they rushed again into the fight with redoubled ardor. As evening came on, all order seemed lost, and each man fought on his own account; little groups of cavalry, of ten, twelve, or twenty men, charged upon the enemy from all directions, and at last when the noise lessened somewhat, and the smoke of the powder cleared away, Acha found, not without some surprise, that he had won the day. With his usual smile, he congratulated his weary soldiers, saying, "Did I not say there would be some work worth seeing?" It is a pity that this remarkable man should have somewhat lessened his reputation by a foolish carelessness, which at last cost him his life. On the other hand, Benavides gained his reputation by an act of bravery which would have done honor to any general in the army.
The victory of Angaco might have been the means of saving the Republic, had Acha done justice to the Bravery and self-possession of his enemy. Benavides, thus conquered by a handful of men, returned to San ​Juan without showing the least discouragement, though his best officers had fallen, and all his stores were at the mercy of his victorious rival. He was retreating without haste to Mendoza, when he met a small reinforcement, and with this aid, little as it was, he conceived the possibility of a triumph, and determined to take immediate advantage of circumstances. Hastily returning, therefore, he attacked his unsuspecting conquerors, and after three days of vain resistance, took Acha himself prisoner, thus recovering all that he had lost, and winning as great renown as the battle of Angaco had given to his prisoner. When Madrid had been deprived of his vanguard, of the recruits which San Juan might have furnished, and of the chivalrous Acha,—a host within himself,—it was easy to strengthen the forces of Rosas under command of Pacheco. The battle of Rodeo del Medio was a corollary of the triumph at San Juan, and entirely owing to Benavides.
As to Aldao, his cowardly flight from the field of Angaco, had placed him in a humiliating position; all his former military fame seemed to have been transferred to Benavides, and in his own province he was regarded with open contempt. He made a journey to Buenos Ayres for the purpose of complaining to his master, and was rewarded by a magnificent reception. But this was followed by no attention from Rosas; he waited many months without obtaining an interview, and was then obliged to return to his own territory, which the army of Rosas had in the meantime despoiled of all implements of war. Henceforth Aldao had no other power than that obtained through Rodriguez and his band; this, however, was enough to enable him to ​rule Mendoza, which had learned by years of oppression to submit to him. Rosas had placed all real power in the hands of Benavides, whose prudence as well as bravery enabled him to keep it. The rivalry between these two commanders was encouraged by Rosas, as it insured his own safety.
Here ends the public career of Don Felix Aldao; the rest of his life was only the gradual decay of a constitution broken by dissipation and the hardships of war, and to the end he was pursued by the scourge of his own conscience and the maledictions of the people.
His harem had been increased by the acquisition of new mistresses; and the immoralities and scandal of his private life formed the common topic of conversation, where the shameful rivalry of these degraded women was openly exposed; and they not only taunted each other with their degradation, but laid violent hands on one another in the streets. And this state of things was the more abominable because the administration of the government was affected by it. Neither justice nor safety even was to be expected for those who should happen to offend the reigning favorite of the monk, and it was quickly known when a change of dynasty had taken place in the seraglio. Ladies of the first families suffered outrageous punishments for not treating these women with respect. One young girl was seated on a mule and whipped through the streets for speaking slightingly of one of the mistresses; and the principal inhabitants of Mendoza were compelled to meet them at a ball, where the young men strove for the honor of dancing with the coarse creature Dolores, who was the favorite at that time. On the death ​of one of the illegitimate children, Montero, the chief of the police, made the anouncement publicly, inviting the citizens to attend the funeral, and the principal men of the place bore the coffin, which was richly decorated and accompanied by the chief magistrates, who walked before and behind it, while a military procession followed.
When Acha and Benavides were fighting at San Juan, Montero conducted Dolores to the barracks at Mendoza, where she aided him in arousing the enthusiasm of the troops destined to march, by showing them Aldao's children, and calling upon them to support and aid their general. What a loss this general was to Rosas! Montero only could supply his place. Rosas needed just such men to maintain quiet in the provinces. All the governors had some peculiar qualities by which they served the ends of the man whose tools they were. Brizuela was a sponge with vast capacity for imbibing brandy, a sort of wine-bottle, who governed admirably in Rioja. Some left the people to take care of themselves while they got up cock-fights and races; others shut up the government offices and passed months without making a decree or using any administrative forms whatever; others let things slide on easily, tolerating everything, but an intelligent lawyer or judge. They all involuntarily agreed upon one point, the gradual disappearance of the public roads. Highwaymen became numerous, schools were closed, trade languished, the administration of justice was given up to stupid or ignorant men, the press was filled with nothing but fulsome praises of the "Restorator;" manners were fast declining towards barbarism, ​learning was despised, talent persecuted, and ignorance became a title to honor. And these governors did well in acting thus if they desired to remain in favor, for whoever showed any real capacity, or any interest in promoting the public welfare, was soon put out of the way. The Dictator had arisen to power through the barbarism of the people; and the poverty and ignorance of the provinces secured him from all dangerous opposition. The best governed of the cities scarcely perceived the gradual decline, for despotism, even under its most favorable circumstances, is for a people what phthisis is for the body; the patient feels no pain, eats, sleeps, and enjoys himself without care; it is only the physician who sees death surely approaching. Rosas assumed for himself the care of thinking for all; he must be the head, and the governors of the provinces the arms, hands, and feet, to execute his will; each member to be used, according to its capacity, for anything but thought in behalf of the Republic: the construction of the government was to be his own work.
The life of Felix Aldao was now drawing to a close. For a year before his death he was troubled with a cancer on his face, which eat into his nose and eyes, until he became partially blind; while the odor was so offensive that his companions at the card-table could hardly endure it. His temper did not improve with sickness, and he became so suspicious of the physicians who attended him that they were obliged to flee, feeling that their lives were in danger. During this year of illness no one dared to propose a temporary governor, for those unfortunate people had come to believe that the government belonged of right to the caudillos, ​and that it would be treason to question their capability, even when ill. Aldao governed Mendoza to the last, and that without attending to anything but his own health. As his death approached, he would not remain alone for a moment, tormented as he was by the terrors of his imagination, and a number of the citizens were obliged to take turns in watching with him. One night he sprang from his bed and rushed in among them with a pair of pistols in his hands. They without waiting to see that the wretched creature was a prey to his own fears, and not attacking them, fled out of the house and the town, and could with difficulty be induced to return the next day. And these were the citizens of the Argentine Republic who had offended other states by their arrogant pride! These were the people who had irritated Bolivar by their overbearing manners! And now they stumbled over one another in their haste to run away from a sick monk!
At length, after months of acute suffering, the cancer caused the bursting of a vein, and the hemorrhage continued until he expired on the 18th of January—in retribution perhaps for the blood of the people which had flowed without stint at his command. Some say that he went back to the church and died penitent, leaving a large part of his wealth to the Dominican order, to which he had belonged. According to the obituary notices he made Rosas his testamentary executor; as the Roman proconsuls, dying in the provinces of the empire, used to leave their wealth to the emperor, together with the government of the provinces. These two contradictory statements prove at least one thing, that at his death there was still a question whether ​he was a monk or a general, but that matters little to him now. With the money acquired by oppressing the people of Mendoza, he left a home for each of his three families.
With so much that was bad, this man must have had some good qualities, for he had friends whose affection was never weakened by absence or death, and no one who inspired such devotion could be wholly bad. He was also beloved by his soldiers, many of whom remained with him for years. He was in the habit of sending large supplies of grain to the poor people south of Mendoza; and whenever he learned of the arrival of the Chilian families who frequently emigrated to Mendoza, he supplied them with provisions until they could establish themselves. And, lastly, those who saw him intimately, say that he was extravagantly fond of his children, whose caresses were his greatest pleasure.
The family of Aldao is now represented by the acknowledged children of three women, some other natural children, and the legitimate offspring of his brother Don Jose All the Aldaos had met with a tragic end, though that of Felix was the least so. All Mendoza followed his body to the church within which he was buried. That evening the Almeda was crowded with persons of both sexes; until then, this promenade, the scene of much bloodshed when Pacheco was there, had been entirely unfrequented.
The only benefit which Mendoza received during the rule of this governor, was the settlement of its southern frontier by emigrants from Chili, who collected in villages under the protection of the fort of ​San Carlos, the habitation of Aldao, who always encouraged this emigration.
Mendoza is now without a governor; it remains to be seen who will obtain possession of it. When Rosas heard that the monk was about to die, he sent a sister of his with her husband, who was physician and also secretary for Aldao. After his death, when the choice of a new governor was discussed, Rodriguez was in favor of the secretary, but the people preferred a native of the city.
I have now concluded my self-imposed task, with the fear of not having been sufficiently impartial; yet it is my misfortune if the facts are not strictly correct. I have carefully consulted both his friends and enemies, and the old soldiers who were with him at the beginning of his career. I have thrown aside all that seemed doubtful, and endeavored to moderate everything that was exaggerated. For the rest, the life of such a man, who took part in so many political changes, should be brought before the public by a more powerful pen than mine. The biography of these tools of a ruler, shows what means he employs, and the end at which he aims.
* ↑ Country chiefs.
* ↑ Subsequent information makes it certain that this scene was but a myth of the time, the only fact being that Facundo thus disposed of the Constitution sent to him.
* ↑ Now candidate for the Vice-Presidency of the Republic, 1868. (Ed.)