Whatever the
hand of Morillo covered, he possessed; but his authority ceased outside
the range of his guns. His men were growing weary of the struggle; few
reinforcements came from Spain; and the troops suffered frightfully,
through their constant fatigues and hardships. The war had become
that most terrible of all wars,--a deliberate system of surprises and
skirmishes. Paez here, Bolivar there, Monagas, Piar, Urdaneta, and a
score of other chieftains, at every vulnerable point, harassed, without
ceasing, the common foe.
In 1819, Bolivar set out upon that marvellous expedition across the
Andes in which, by marching one thousand miles and fighting three
pitched battles in somewhat less than eleven weeks, he finally liberated New
Granada, and secured a vast amount of Spanish treasure and munitions of
war. During his absence, Paez was left to keep Morillo in check on the
east of the Cordillera. His plan of operations was, to be everywhere,
and to do everything with his lancers. Venezuela clung with terrible
tenacity to the idea of freedom; and the Republic was converted into two
great camps, perpetually shifting their boundaries, yet ever presenting
the same features. Trade and commerce were at an end; the only business
thought of was that of war unto death. Death, everywhere; death, at all
times; death, in every shape. By the sword and the lance, by famine,
by drowning, by fire, decimated by fever, worn out by fatigue, the
Spaniards perished.
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