By the latter half of the 17th century, the rule of Spain in the New World was reaching 200 years. Times were changing, both in the New World and in Europe, and the leaders of Spain knew it. Their problem was what to do about it. Spain had never had a coherent policy in its imperial rule. Since 1492, Spain was seemingly constantly at war, with an endless series of crises thrown into the mix. Solutions had to be found for the here and now, the future would take care of itself.
Erick Redington continues his look at the independence of Spanish America by looking at Venezuelan military leader and revolutionary Francisco de Miranda. Here he looks at Francisco de Miranda’s further travels and how he came to declare independence in one part of South America.
If you missed them, Erick’s article on the four viceroyalties is here, Francisco de Miranda’s early life is here, and his travels in Europe and the US is here.
A painting of General Francisco de Miranda by Martín Tovar y Tovar
Francisco de Miranda, now back in Britain, was determined to carry out the mission he had given himself so many years ago: leading the movement for the independence of Spanish America. This can be seen in his first letter to Prime Minister William Pitt. Miranda addresses himself to Pitt as the “Principal Agent of the Spanish American Colonies, commissioned to treat with the Ministers of His Britannic Majesty.” He had been accredited by no government. What he did understand, however, was the time and the societal structure he lived in. He knew he had to “sound important.” Walk the walk, so to speak. He was showing himself as an important man, the leader of a people, addressing other world leaders. When he was able to meet with Pitt and was asked for his credentials, Miranda would hand Pitt the Act of Paris.
Just as the last time he was in Britain, he knew the British government was the key to financial and military support for his aims. With Britain and Spain at war again, Pitt and his ministry were only too happy to support Miranda, but again, they would only do so on their own terms. Miranda, aware of the duplicitous nature of international politics, had been courting the Americans as well. For all the letters he sent to Pitt outlining plans for expeditions to South America, he was also sending letters to his old friends in the United States. Thomas Jefferson was elected President in 1800, and Jefferson and his new Secretary of State James Madison were counted by Miranda as friends. Miranda knew both men were interested in spreading the “benefits of republican government.” Using the known expansionist designs of the Americans as a counterbalance to the power of Great Britain would help Miranda in his cause. He tried to force on the British a sense of urgency. The British better help him, and by extension keep their influence over him, or else the Americans would help him, and they would have influence.
This would not be enough to force the British into helping him. Miranda knew he would have to pressure the British government into helping him. To do this, he chose to go over the heads of the government, and appeal directly to the British people. The hope was to create overwhelming support for Spanish American independence, that the ministry would be forced to act through public pressure.
Miranda’s Widening Net
One of the most important publications that helped Miranda’s cause was not written by Miranda himself. Also in London at the time was Juan Pablo Viscardo y Guzmán. Viscardo was a Jesuit from Peru who was expelled from Spanish America on royal orders dissolving the Jesuit order in Spanish territory. While in exile, Viscardo became a staunch supporter of South American independence. He would publish the “Open Letter to the American Spaniards.” This publication, seen by many at the time, and by later historians, as a South American Declaration of Independence or Declaration of the Rights of Man, was more akin to a version of Common Sense by Thomas Paine. It laid out all the legal and emotional reasons why Spanish America should be independent.
When Viscardo died in 1798, his papers were given to Miranda, who could recognize the rhetorical power of Viscardo’s arguments. Since Viscardo was no longer around to challenge Miranda, his legacy could easily be adopted and coopted into Miranda’s own operation. This, and other writings by Miranda, would be published in the numerous newspapers and pamphlets that dotted London at the time.
It is also at this time that Miranda would begin to cultivate relationships with many younger firebrands who lived in London at the time. The first was a young man, the illegitimate son of the Viceroy of Peru, Bernardo Riquelme. Later as Bernardo O’Higgins, he would help lead the liberation of Chile, and contribute to the liberation of Peru. O’Higgins, meeting Miranda in his late teens, was extremely impressionable and searching for a father figure to teach him. Miranda filled this role splendidly. The same impetuosity displayed so many times by Miranda would characterize the life and governance of O’Higgins. This secondary role that Miranda took upon himself, that of a father figure and mentor to young revolutionaries would have far-reaching impacts on the course of revolutions throughout South America.
Years would pass before Miranda would have success in his relations with the British government. It was only in 1805 that the British government began seriously studying the many plans Miranda had presented for military action. When this grand study was conducted, it concluded that the best way to foment an uprising in South America was to…attack Buenos Aires. Miranda was devastated. Buenos Aires was not what he considered a ripe ground for liberation. He wanted to go back to his homeland and initiate an uprising there. Just like last time, Miranda was so fed up with the British government, that he decided to leave. Unlike last time though, he would go back to the New World. He would go to the United States.
The Leander Expedition
While in the United States, all the contacts Miranda had made would pay off for him. Whereas in Britain, he had faced roadblocks and frustrations, in the US his friends would outdo each other in helping him. Jefferson and Madison, the President and Secretary of State respectively, would provide him access and (unofficially, of course) weapons made in US armories. He was able to recruit members for his planned expedition without any legal hindrance, regardless of US neutrality laws.
On February 2, 1806, Miranda and his motley crew of about 180 men set sail from New York aboard the Leander (named for Miranda’s young son), the small ship that would give the expedition its name. After a short layover in Haiti, supported there by the revolutionary government of Jean-Jacques Dessalines, Miranda and crew would sail for their target, Venezuela. During the journey, the crew was presented with uniforms for the new army that they were now members of. Miranda unfurled the tricolor that would eventually be the basis for the flags of three nations. After another stop in Aruba for rest and resupply, Miranda was joined by two other ships, the Bee and the Bacchus.
For Miranda, this was the moment his life had been leading up to. He had men under arms following him. Bright, velvet uniforms adorned those fighting in the glorious cause of freedom from colonial tyranny. Proclamations had been written and printed, which once distributed, would drive the people into a revolutionary frenzy. Everything was in place for the victory that Miranda believed was his destiny.
It began to fall apart almost at once. A landing was attempted at the small town of Ocumare on April 27. The Spanish were ready to oppose them with two ships. Miranda would order his ship, Leander, to sail away. The Bee, however, did not get the message and was captured, left to its fate while Miranda retreated.
If at first you don’t succeed…
Arriving back in Aruba, Miranda would receive help from the British. The Royal Navy officers in the area were sympathetic to his cause. With this help, he was finally able, on August 3, to land on Venezuelan soil, at La Vela de Coro, the site of the old colony of Neu-Augsburg. Upon occupying Coro, he found the city almost deserted. The people had been told to evacuate by colonial authorities to escape the barbarities Miranda would visit upon them. For his part, Miranda had ordered persons and property respected. It did not matter, there was no mass uprising in the revolution’s favor.
Within a few days, Spanish forces reacted and began to approach Coro. The hero was not about to let himself be captured by the enemy, so he ordered his men to retreat to the coast. Miranda threatened to leave behind the wounded if it slowed the retreat. One man who voiced complaints was threatened with execution at Miranda’s hand. Once aboard the ship, Miranda would order his expedition to head back to Aruba. The entire invasion lasted eleven days. It was a complete failure. Adding insult to injury, one of the local commanders of Spanish forces was Juan Manuel Cagigal, Miranda’s old friend from 30 years before who now called him a fanatic.
Back to Britain, Again
From Aruba, Miranda would find his way back to Britain. As soon as he arrived, he announced his presence to the government and began planning a new expedition. The new Prime Minister, the Duke of Portland, was more open than Pitt had been to Miranda’s advances. Portland viewed the war against France as the world war that it was and wanted to strike at Spain’s soft underbelly in the Americas. In furtherance to this end, a large expedition was assembled which would strike at Spanish America. Arthur Wellesley, the future Duke of Wellington, would command. Fate, as it always seemed to with Miranda, intervened. Napoleon, with the help of Spain, had forced the Portuguese royal family to flee Iberia and take up residence in Brazil, the largest colony of Portugal. Sensing an opportunity, the British diverted the army meant for South America to Portugal to begin the famous Peninsular Campaign.
Despondent, Miranda could not believe the opportunity that had been lost. A major army under competent command was lost to him and his cause. Shortly, however, fate would intervene again. Napoleon had invaded his own ally, Spain.
Napoleon Provides the Opportunity of a Lifetime
Napoleon had begun to worry about his Spanish ally. Napoleon was willing to accept the horrifically incompetent administration of the Spanish government led by the Queen’s lover Manuel de Godoy, one of the most corrupt men in the annals of history. He was also willing to accept the cartoonishly stupid King Carlos IV and his only slightly less stupid son, Ferdinand. Napoleon understood that the corrupt and stupid can be controlled, especially by someone as brilliant as himself. The problem was the Spanish people were not willing to continue to submit. After several attempts by Ferdinand, and Ferdinand-aligned elements of the Spanish government, to overthrow Godoy and Carlos, Napoleon intervened and tricked both Carlos and Ferdinand to abdicate their claims to the Spanish throne. Napoleon then named his brother Joseph King José I. All over Spain, uprisings began resisting the French occupation of the country. These uprisings and their leadership committees, called Juntas, pledged their loyalty to Ferdinand, now called Ferdinand VII.
Overnight, these events changed the entire dynamic for Miranda. His primary patron had always been Great Britain. He had always looked primarily to Britain for support. Now, Britain and Spain were allies. Instead of trying to undermine Spanish rule in America, now the British wanted to reinforce it. Within a year, Juntas began springing up in Spanish America, officially pledged to the cause of Ferdinand VII.
These Juntas were led by local criollos who occupied second place in the Spanish colonial hierarchy. The taste of power and local self-rule would not be lost by these men. These Juntas were pledged to Ferdinand VII, yes, but not necessarily to Spain itself, a hair-splitting distinction, but a distinction, nonetheless. Here were the mass independence movements that Miranda had been waiting his whole life for. The movements that he felt it his destiny to lead.
Miranda Goes Home
In 1810, the Supreme Junta of Caracas, exerting power supposedly over the whole of Venezuela, removed the colony’s Spanish government. The Junta claimed that it was simply exercising authority on behalf of Ferdinand until he could return to the throne. It was on this basis that a delegation was sent from the Junta to Britain to garner support. This delegation had as one of its members a certain Simón Bolívar. A young hot-headed Venezuelan, Bolívar was awed by Miranda and his reputation. As he was always keen on mentoring young revolutionaries, Miranda took a liking to this young man. When the delegation attempted to persuade Miranda to return to his homeland, it did not take much convincing. What the delegation did not tell Miranda was that their instructions specifically forbade them from bringing him back with them when they returned. It did not matter. Miranda was going home.
The First Venezuelan Congress assembled on March 2, 1811. Declaring itself the legitimate government of Venezuela, it began setting the stage to take complete control. On July 5, 1811, Congress would declare Venezuela independent of Spain. It would also establish the new country as a republic, styled the American Confederation of Venezuela. A constitution was written, allegedly based upon the principles of liberty and reason. It was unveiled on July 14, Bastille Day.
Back in Command
Miranda was given the task of suppressing royalists around Valencia. Given his military experience, this was a natural assignment. It was not the one that Miranda wanted. Although he was able to easily bring these loyalists to heel, Miranda did not want to be overly brutal. He saw these people as countrymen and wanted to reconcile them with the new republic. When he returned to Caracas after his successful campaign, he received a hero’s welcome. The people crowded him on the streets and cheered his name. This further fueled the jealousy felt by members of the Republic’s government. They were afraid that Miranda and his friends, whom they saw as Jacobins and a Masonic conspiracy, of plotting to overthrow the Republic and install Miranda as a dictator. These fears were certainly not alleviated by Miranda’s letters written to the government during his campaign. Miranda did not believe in the federalist bent of the new republic. He was a centralist and made thinly veiled references about how the men with the most experience should be the ones called to ultimate authority.
During these events, the Spanish were not idle. Despite the massive war and insurrection occurring in Spain, the Supreme Junta of Spain was already making plans to re-exert control over Venezuela. With the covert support of the British, the Spanish government was already accumulating troops in Puerto Rico to attempt a reconquest. A political campaign stressing the racial, cultural, and religious ties to Spain was intensified. As Spain gained sympathizers, the government of the Republic became more radical in its laws and pronouncements. One pronouncement granted freedom to any slave who enlisted in the Republic’s army for a term of ten years. This caused many landowners who were already skeptical of the Republic to openly support Spain. On March 26, 1812, a massive earthquake hit Venezuela and caused widespread death and destruction, much of which occurred in areas that had large numbers of supporters of the Republic. It seemed to many people that God himself was turning against the revolution.
Generalissimo Miranda
Only a week after the earthquake, on April 3rd, Miranda was named supreme commander of the army and head of the Republic with dictatorial powers, with the title of Generalissimo of the Confederation of Venezuela. This seeming height of his career would be fraught with challenges, but Miranda, ever confident, believed in his ability to handle them.
The Spanish chose this moment to attack. They besieged the fortress of San Felipe near Puerto Cabello. The commander was his old mentee Bolívar. When the fortress fell, things fell apart rapidly. The Spanish advanced quickly on Caracas. With no military force of consequence between the capital and the battle-hardened Spanish Army, Miranda knew the cause was hopeless. He sent commissioners to discuss surrender terms with the Spanish commander, Domingo Monteverde. Miranda chose to not confide the surrender terms to others in the Venezuelan government. This led to suspicions about his motives. On August 3rd, the Spanish Army took Caracas. What would later be called the First Republic of Venezuela was gone, snuffed out in the blink of an eye.
Betrayal and Arrest
For Miranda, there were only thoughts of exile, yet again. As he was preparing to sail away, other Venezuelan leaders saw this man, supposedly their leader, leaving them. Some believed he was taking the nation’s treasury with him, although the evidence is contradictory. Bolívar and a group of army officers arrested Miranda before he could leave the country. He was handed over to the Spanish. Although the terms of Miranda’s surrender of the country promised him safe passage out, Monteverde gleefully took custody of the prisoner.
Miranda was placed into a cell and secured to the wall by chains. He would be held in Venezuela until transferred to Spain, where he would be held in the La Carraca prison in Cádiz. Charged with treason against the crown, Miranda waited to be tried and executed. But this would not come. Miranda would constantly petition King Ferdinand to release not only him, but his country from bondage. He asked to be sent to exile in Russia or the United States.
Being held in prison is harmful to your health in the best of times. To be held in a 19th century dungeon as a political prisoner was even worse. Miranda was already elderly for the time and suffered from ulcers and rheumatism. On March 25, 1816, he suffered a stroke leading to seizures. Once he recovered, he caught typhus. Only with foreign pressure did Miranda’s Spanish jailers remove his leg irons as a humanitarian gesture. He would linger on for a few months of agony until he died on July 14, 1816, the anniversary of Bastille Day.
Francisco de Miranda was many things. Visionary, a man of letters, a man of the world, he embodied the traits of the ideal man of reason envisioned by the thinkers of the enlightenment. He was also vain, a megalomaniacal, and in the end, overly concerned about his own importance and self-preservation. Like Moses, he would never reach the promised land. Undoubtedly, like Moses, he was one of the primary reasons why his people reached that promised land. The Forerunner, the Precursor, the Moses of South American freedom. All these titles describe Francisco de Miranda.
What do you think of Francisco de Miranda? Let us know below.
Now, read about Francisco Solano Lopez, the Paraguayan president who brought his country to military catastrophe in the War of the Triple Alliance here.
