by Brian Vale
The news that Chile was creating a navy and that Aguirre and Alvarez were looking for ships and recruiting men was received with excitement in naval circles in both countries. In England, the Royal Navy was in the depths of the depression that followed the Napoleonic Wars, which had seen the number of ships in commission fall from over 700 to 134, and the men in pay from 140,000 to 23,000. Almost 90 per cent of the 5250 officers on the Navy List were unemployed and living on half pay, and there were many more midshipmen and master's mates eking out a precarious living without even that. Among these thousands it was not difficult to find a few who were interested in the opportunities for pay and prize money offered by a South American war. Unemployed naval officers eagerly offered their services, some bringing fully armed and manned warships with them. Alvarez signed them up and sent them on their way. The first vessel, an 823-ton merchantman called Windham, previously licensed for the India and China trades, arrived in Valparaiso in March 1818 with a crew of four officers and 110 men. She was followed in May by the regular 1200-ton East Indiaman Cumberland under Captain William Wilkinson with five officers and 100 men. The Chileans were short of cash, but they managed to find $180,000 and $140,000 in order to buy the ships and took both, together with their officers and crews, into the new navy. They were renamed Lautaro and San Martin. Both were substantial, copper plated vessels capable of carrying artillery but, with a crew of 450 men and 64 guns on two decks, the San Martin was by far the largest of the two. When painted man-of-war fashion, these 1200-ton East Indiamen had often been mistaken for ships-of-the-line in the Napoleonic Wars, and the logs of vessels of the British South America squadron frequently described San Martin as 'the two-decker'.5 Lautaro, on the other hand, was armed as a standard frigate carrying a crew of 310, a battery of 26 guns on her main deck, and another 14 lighter calibre cannon on her quarterdeck and forecastle.
Aguirre was just as successful in the United States. In November 1817, the 18-gun brig Columbus sailed from New York, fully manned and under Captain Charles W. Worster, a veteran of the war of 1812 in which he had commanded the privateer Saratoga. She reached Valparaiso eight months later to be purchased for $33,000 and renamed Araucano. Then, in July, Aguirre authorised the construction in New York of two fast 700-ton corvettes each mounting 28 guns. In keeping with the classical taste of the time, they were called Horatio and Curiato. The two ships were completed quickly and, after last-minute tussles with American neutrality laws, they were registered as the property of their captains Joséph Skinner and Paul Delano and sailed for the River Plate in September 1818. In the event, the Chileans were unable to find the money and could only afford to buy the Curiato. After a delay in Buenos Aires, Delano finally sailed her to Valparaiso in June 1819 to be incorporated into the Chilean Navy with the name Independencia. Her sister ship, Horatio, remained behind in the River Plate where she was later purchased by the Brazilians and christened Maria da Gloria.6
By the middle of 1818, the creation of the Chilean Navy was well advanced. And what it might be capable of had been shown in April, when, hot on the heels of San Martin's victory at Maipú, Lautaro sailed out of Valparaiso with orders to break the blockade. In command was former Royal Navy Lieutenant George O'Brian, supported by three British Lieutenants - James Argent, William Walker and Sam Fawkener - and William Miller who, after Maipú had been promoted to Major and sent to organise the Chilean Marine Corps. Posing as HMS Amphion, the Lautaro surprised the Spanish frigate Esmeralda on patrol outside the port, ran her bowsprit into the Spaniard's mizzen rigging and attempted to take her by boarding. Unfortunately for the Chileans, a heavy swell then separated the two ships and the boarding party, led by Captain O'Brian, was overwhelmed and killed. Both sides subsequently claimed a victory; but it was the Chileans who achieved their objective - Esmeralda and her consort, the brig Pezuela, were forced to withdraw and lift the blockade.
Meanwhile, the development of the new navy continued apace with the local purchase of an 18-gun corvette called Chacabuco, and the renaming of the brig Aguila as Pueyrredon in honour of the Director of Buenos Aires. The navy also acquired a new senior officer in the person of a 28-year-old army officer called Manuel Blanco Encalada. The son of a Chilean judge, Blanco had been educated in Madrid and had served briefly in the Spanish Navy as a midshipman where he was decorated for action against the French. Back in Chile after the war as an artillery officer, he had joined the independence movement, but had been captured and imprisoned on the island of Juan Fernandez. He had recently been released following a sortie by Morris in the Aguila. In June 1818, as the only senior Chilean with any naval experience at all, Blanco Encalada was given the key organisational post of Commandant-General.
Zenteno redoubled his efforts. In August, a spate of decrees changed the titles of the original ranks given in the Reglamento Provisional de la Marina to the more familiar naval ones of commodore, captain, lieutenant and midshipman, and added - in anticipation of the arrival of Lord Cochrane who had been recruited by Alvarez to be the new navy's commander-in-chief - the two senior posts of Vice Admiral and Rear Admiral.7 They also laid down food and ration scales for the men, and established uniforms for the officers. Following the style of the British Navy, Chilean officers were to wear blue cut-away tail coats lined in white, blue stand up collars with anchor insignia, and gilt buttons stamped with anchors and stars on the cuffs and back pockets. In September, privateersmen were ordered to enrol on State ships; and, to encourage the recruitment of foreigners, pay scales were adjusted so that they would receive one-third more than their Chilean counterparts. Thus, foreign Able and Ordinary Seamen were paid $12 and $10 monthly - that is £2.40p and £2 - compared with the $8 and $6 paid to nationals.8
The development of the new Chilean Navy was given extra impetus by the arrival of two dramatic items of news - one bad, the other good. The bad news was that the Spanish were rushing out more reinforcements in the shape of a frigate (it was the Maria Isabel) and a convoy of 12 transports filled with troops. The good was that José Antonio Alvarez in London had recruited Lord Cochrane, one of the Royal Navy's most successful, but also most controversial officers, to be the Chilean Navy's commander-in-chief. Although Alvarez had done this entirely on his own initiative, O'Higgins and his government received the news with enthusiasm and began to wait anxiously for Cochrane's arrival. Temporarily, Blanco Encalada was appointed to the seagoing post of commander-in-chief and replaced as Commandant General by Luis de la Cruz. But time, tide and war wait for no man. In September 1818, a courier arrived hot-foot from Buenos Aires across the Andes carrying news that Maria Isabel and her convoy were nearing the Pacific. Their position had been revealed when one of the 11 transports that remained had mutinied and put into the River Plate, bringing news that the convoy had been severely weakened by sickness, and handing over orders, signals and rendezvous points. Commodore Blanco Encalada mobilised the Chilean squadron and on 19 October sailed south with the frigates San Martin (Captain William Wilkinson) and Lautaro (Captain Charles Worster) the corvette Chacabuco (Commander Francisco Dias) and the 18-gun brig Araucano (Lieutenant Raymond
Morris). His orders were to intercept the Spanish but also to keep an eye open for the ship carrying Lord Cochrane. It is said that O'Higgins watched them leave the bay with the words 'three little ships gave the King of Spain possession of the New World. These four are going to deprive him of it.' The story may be apocryphal, but it is a good one.9 Other observers were less sure. Indeed local opinion was divided as to whether the squadron with its brand new ships and hastily assembled polyglot crews was sailing to victory or disaster.10
Blanco encountered contrary winds and lost touch with the Chacabuco when tacking against them at night. But the two frigates and the brig managed to remain in company and reached the latitude of Concepción on 26 October. There, the Araucano was ordered to reconnoitre the Bay of Talcahuana, while Blanco Encalada headed for one of the Spanish convoy's known rendezvous points at the Island of Santa Maria. There he lea
rnt from a British whaler that the Maria Isabel had been in the vicinity five days earlier but had then left for Talcahuana. Even better, the San Martin, mistaken for one of the convoy, was boarded by members of the crew of the Maria Isabel who had been left behind to receive the transports as they arrived and hand over instructions and signals. Now fully aware of Spanish intentions, Blanco Encalada sailed east with San Martin and Lautaro to the Bay of Talcahuana where, on the morning of 28 October, they found the Spanish frigate at anchor disembarking her sick. Flying British colours until they were within musket shot, Blanco's ships made for the Maria Isabel, unleashed a broadside and boarded the enemy vessel in the smoke. In a brisk action in which Lieutenants Ramsey, Bell and Compton and Major Miller of the marines distinguished themselves, the frigate was taken.11
With the captured Maria Isabel in company, Blanco's ships returned to Santa Maria where they remained in the bay flying Spanish colours for a week until, one by one, the transports Xavier, Dolores, Magdalena, Elena, Jerezana and Carlota sailed innocently into their arms. On 9 November, a strange sail proved to be the Galvarino, formerly the 18-gun brig HMS Hecate which had arrived the previous month from England via the River Plate with Commander Martin Guise RN, Lieutenant J. T. Spry, and 140 officers and men.12 She had been immediately incorporated into the Chilean Navy under the name of Galvarino and sent south to join Blanco Encalada. Then, three days later, the Argentine brig Intrepido arrived, sent to Chile by the Government of Buenos Aires as an act of solidarity with a largely British crew. She was commanded by Captain Thomas Wren Carter, a hot-tempered Irishman and veteran of the Royal Navy in which he had risen to the rank of Commander in July 1815. The timely arrival of Galvarino and Intrepido gave Blanco Encalada the additional men he needed to provide prize crews for the Spanish frigate and transports. That done, Blanco Encalada and the Chilean squadron returned in triumph to Valparaiso with their prizes. With only four of the original twelve transports eventually reaching Callao carrying a severely reduced numbers of troops, the action was a serious reverse for the royalists.13 And the use by the Chileans, once more, of the British flag and the wearing of British uniforms caused a strong protest from General Osorio to Captain Hickey of Blossom. There was, however, nothing the Royal Navy could do about what was a legitimate ruse de guerre, except complain to the authorities in Valparaiso.14 In Chile, Blanco Encalada's victory was a triumph and source of confidence. Some historians have suggested that it made some feel that they no longer needed foreigners to man their navy.15 But it is difficult to accept such a suggestion. Although Blanco Encalada and Francisco Dias of the Chacabuco were South Americans, neither had much maritime experience at all, and the rest of the captains, almost all the officers, and the bulk of the seamen were British and North Americans.
November 1818 saw not only the Chilean Navy's first victory but an important increase to its strength when the frigate Maria Isabel was added under her new name, O'Higgins. The Chilean Navy now comprised three big frigates, one corvette, four brigs, a schooner and numerous small fry - an even match for the Spanish Navy in the Pacific. Recruitment had also gone well, and the service could boast 1200 sailors, 400 marines, and 40 sea officers. Although commanded by the Englishman William Miller, the marines were entirely Chileno, but two-thirds of the seamen and almost all the officers were North Americans or British, many of the latter with Royal Navy experience. All that remained to make it fully operational was the eagerly awaited arrival of its commander-in-chief, Thomas, Lord Cochrane.
Chapter 3
THE COMING OF LORD COCHRANE
When José Antonio Alvarez arrived in London on his recruiting mission, one of the most brilliant and talked about naval commanders of the Napoleonic Wars was Thomas, Lord Cochrane. Born to a noble but impoverished Scottish family in 1775, Cochrane entered the navy at the comparatively advanced age of 17 years through the agency of his uncle, Captain the Honourable Alexander Cochrane RN. He advanced rapidly in his profession, due partly to his skill and interest in technical matters, and partly to the 'interest' he enjoyed as a member of the navy's Scottish mafia. At an early age, through the patronage of Lord Keith, who was not only one of the navy's most distinguished admirals but its most senior 'Scotch' officer, he secured the coveted promotion to the rank of commander. Cochrane immediately showed his daring and ability when, in charge of a diminutive brig called Speedy, he captured the greatly superior Spanish frigate El Gamo. Promoted to post-captain and given command of a frigate called Pallas, on his first cruise Cochrane seized enemy ships and property worth £300,000 - perhaps £5 million in modern money - more than enough to satisfy those members of his crew who had been encouraged to sign on by the promise of Spanish silver contained in his famous recruiting poster. 'None should apply,' it had said, 'but SEAMEN and Stout Hands, able to rouse about the Field Pieces and carry an hundred weight of PEWTER without stopping at least three miles.' Pallas was then sent to operate in the Bay of Biscay, capturing coasters and gunboats, destroying shore batteries and burning signalling stations. Transferring to the more powerful frigate Imperieuse, Cochrane then proceeded to cause mayhem on the Mediterranean coasts of France and Spain, launching assaults from the sea against roads and isolated batteries before dramatically directing the defence of the city of Rosas against a French assault. With his reputation now established, in 1809, Cochrane was sent to apply his skills with pyrotechnics to an attack being planned against a French Fleet in the Basque Roads.
His adventures in command of the Pallas made Cochrane rich. Those in the Imperieuse made him famous. Newspapers sung his praises and a special biography was printed in the Naval Chronicle. In these operations, Cochrane established himself as a master of amphibious warfare. His tactical flare and ingenuity were ideally suited to keeping a coast in uproar by sudden and unexpected raids from the sea. They also confirmed that in battle Cochrane was a true leader of men. Fearless and cool under fire, he led from the front, personally leading the attack by fire ships and explosion vessels which successfully drove a panic stricken French fleet onto the mud at the Basque Roads and left it at the mercy of the British.
But the qualities that made Cochrane so successful in war made him a quarrelsome nuisance in peace. At sea, the speed with which he arrived at decisions, and his refusal to contemplate doubt or hesitation thereafter, made him invincible. On land, his hasty decision making, and his refusal to change his mind once it had been made up -whatever evidence there was to the contrary - had the opposite effect. Indeed, Cochrane tended to assemble the facts to support what he wanted to believe rather than draw conclusions from the facts themselves. The result was a series of catastrophic misjudgements. This bloody-mindedness, combined with an instinctive mistrust of anyone in authority, an insubordinate streak, and an element of self-righteousness, regularly put Cochrane at loggerheads with his superiors. Ignoring, for example, the technical problems that prevented his immediate promotion to post-captain after the capture of El Gamo, Cochrane convinced himself against all the evidence that he was in the 'bad books' of the Admiralty and began a personal and political vendetta against the First Lord, Admiral Lord St Vincent. Again, after the Basque Roads, he almost single-handedly converted what was seen as a naval triumph into a missed opportunity, forcing the British commander, the worthy if over-religious Admiral Lord Gambier, to demand a court martial to clear his name. Cochrane's conviction that Gambier had no intention of attacking the stranded French, and had only been forced into doing so by the activities of Imperieuse, was unshaken by evidence to the contrary and he pursued Gambier to the bitter end. Meanwhile his campaign against St Vincent, the erstwhile First Lord, was gaining such a momentum that the Admiral gave vent to his famous phrase that Cochrane was 'mad, romantic, money getting and not truth telling.'
There was certainly a romantic streak to his personality. Indeed, at the age of 38, he had contracted a runaway marriage in Scotland with Kitty Barnes, a half-Spanish beauty of 16 who, to the dismay of Cochrane's relations, was not an heiress. They were
to make a striking pair -Cochrane, tall and redheaded with sandy whiskers; Kitty, short and petite, with raven hair worn in fashionable corkscrew ringlets.
In other aspects of his personality, however, he was entirely practical. His father, the 9th Earl of Dundonald, had spent the family fortune on failed scientific experiments and Cochrane inherited his keen interest in technical matters. And, as regards money, St Vincent was right. All naval officers were keen to gain from the prize money that was the reward for capturing enemy ships and property, but Cochrane took it to extremes. He had been in the embarrassing position of being an aristocrat without money; and his youth was spent among financial crises and parsimony. It is therefore hardly surprising that moneymaking became a major obsession in Cochrane's life and that he was none too scrupulous about how he got it.
Lord Cochrane's fame in Britain was not, however, based solely on his naval achievements, for in his earlier years he also played a significant political role. Although he was an aristocrat, his hostility to the corruption of Georgian Britain and his feeling of personal alienation from the Establishment turned him into a radical politician. He served successively as Member of Parliament for the 'rotten borough' of Honiton in Devon, and then for the more 'democratic' constituency of Westminster. In the House of Commons, Cochrane became a thorn in the side of the government, delighting in exposing corruption in the prize courts and abuses in the establishment, and grinding a number of personal naval axes. He became particularly influential in the years after the Napoleonic Wars when an economic slump caused hardship, want and unrest throughout the land. There was an avalanche of working-class petitions and it was Cochrane and Sir Frances Burdett, his fellow Member of Parliament for Westminster, who ensured that they reached an unreformed House of Commons. It was a role that Cochrane relished.