Cochrane in the Pacific

by Brian Vale

  His Excellency the Supreme Director, highly gratified by that noble conquest, orders me to inform you that he feels the most heartfelt gratitude at that signal achievement. The meritorious officers ... and soldiers who, in imitation of Your Excellency, encountered such vast dangers, will be brought to the notice of the Government in order to receive a distinctive medal in gratitude for their gallantry and in proof that Chile rewards the heroes who advocate her cause.3

  In his own letters to O'Higgins, Cochrane was keen to rub in the significance of Valdivia and the lesson to be learnt writing, on 10 February, that the capture of Valdivia 'was felt more by the enemy ... than burning the ships in Callao. ... I hope your Excellency will approve what I have done without orders; if so, I care little about the opinions of those who gave me the last orders with a view to prevent me doing anything.'4 In other words, the cause of Chilean freedom was best advanced if he was left to do what he liked rather than what he was told! It had an ominous ring.

  On 6 March, the Vice Admiral returned to Valparaiso in the Montezuma, having left O'Higgins in Valdivia to be hove down and repaired under the supervision of Secretary Stevenson. He was given a hero's welcome. The City Council and the National Institute of Santiago published messages singing his praises to amplify those already given by the government. Minister Zenteno repeated these congratulations in a private interview. But he was inevitably obliged to point out that the Vice Admiral had acted against orders, and that it had been a risky enterprise. Alas, in so doing, Zenteno made a serious mistake. In Cochrane's simplistic view of the world, anyone who was not for him was against him, and anyone who offered the slightest criticism must be motivated by malice. Henceforth Zenteno was cast in the role of an enemy. Out of delicacy, the minister's comments had been made in private. It was Cochrane and his entourage who made them public. The Cochrane version of the interview was retailed in the books subsequently published by his business associate, John Miers, the travel writer, Maria Graham, and in his own Narrative of Services. In these accounts, the minister is accused of being abusive, of railing that Cochrane had acted like 'a madman ... and that I even now ought to lose my head for daring to attack such a place without instructions and for exposing the patriot forces to such a hazard'.5 From this point on, Cochrane sees Zenteno as 'my bitter opponent, obstructing all my plans for the interests of Chile'6 and all the while secretly plotting against him.

  It would be naive to expect a revolutionary official to be an angel of virtue, but there is no supporting evidence to back this vilification of Zenteno. Indeed, Cochrane's portrait of the man in no way conforms to his record as the creator and organiser of the infant Chilean Navy. As one Chilean History puts it, 'with no personal knowledge of naval affairs, with inexpert and impromptu assistance, and with little aid from an empty treasury and an impoverished people, Zenteno, without ostentation and without friction, maintained and supplied the fleet, paid the officers and sailors, and transported the army to Lima relying solely on the resources of his own department.'7 It is difficult to believe that a man with Zenteno's reputation and dedication would be distracted by malice towards a subordinate - particularly one whose victories reflected credit on the department he led.

  Cold and austere by temperament, Zenteno was clearly no charmer. Indeed, he was well known for his lack of civility. But the written record does not substantiate Cochrane's accusations that he was treated with malice and obstruction. Rather the reverse. During their four-year association, Zenteno sent Cochrane hundreds of orders, supplemented by scores of personal letters discussing the strategic situation, praising Cochrane's actions, and trying to anticipate his complaints. Frequently when sending an order he knew would be uncongenial, Zenteno attempted to mollify him by adding a personal note of explanation.8 Even allowing for Latin American courtesy, these communications are amiable and friendly. Indeed, the tone of Zenteno's letters is so at variance with the depiction given in the Narrative of Services that even Cochrane realised it and tried to explain away the discrepancy.9

  Cochrane's suspicions of Zenteno were soon directed at the Chilean Government as a whole. This is not surprising. Cochrane had a lifelong mistrust of anyone in authority, especially politicians, and in Chile it was no different. Only O'Higgins was immune. Cochrane depicts him as an honest and well intentioned patriot, but his ministers are described as corrupt, hostile, and so jealous of a foreigner achieving military glory that they deliberately undermined his efforts. Written in bitter hindsight, Cochrane's Narrative of Services claims that this animosity existed from the beginning. The sensible precaution in his original orders to avoid action with the batteries of Callao in order to preserve the squadron for the forthcoming invasion of Peru is denounced as a ploy by jealous ministers to stop a foreigner gaining military glory. And, at the moment Cochrane was capturing Valdivia, Zenteno is accused of plotting to have him court-martialled for insubordination10 - a charge that Zenteno's biographers strongly deny.

  The Cochrane version of events was retailed in John Miers's book Travels in Chile and La Plata. Here, the events that followed the taking of Valdivia are described in the following terms:

  Lord Cochrane on his return instead of being hailed by the government for the services he had rendered was annoyed by every vexation. ... This Minister (Zenteno) carried out a series of intrigues the object of which was to degrade the Admiral and lessen the glory which his brilliant services so well deserved. He did not even receive public acknowledgement or thanks for the brilliant exploit ... and it was only when Lord Cochrane's indignation was roused at the ingratitude of the Government of Chile and it was feared that he was about to retire in August that the requisite form of thanks was conceded and medals were distributed to the victorious troops and a nominal reward was granted in the form of the grant of an estate to lord Cochrane for his brilliant services.11

  This description clearly bears no resemblance to what really happened: yet Cochrane seemed to believe it. In letters to San Martin about events at the time, he later wrote 'plans and intrigues were set afoot for my dismissal from the Chilean service . for no reason other than certain influential persons of shallow understanding and petty expectations hate those who despise mean acts accomplished by low cunning'. San Martin's version of the letter adds, 'the conduct of the Senate and of Zenteno merits no other description.'12 Cochrane never convincingly explains why, if they were so anxious to get rid of him, Zenteno and his colleagues refused to accept his numerous resignations. Likewise, the accusation that Zenteno and the Ministry - still engaged in an uncertain revolutionary struggle on which their careers and even lives depended - would deliberately hamper the naval effort because of jealousy of a foreigner defies common sense.

  The reality of the matter was very different. O'Higgins and the Chilean Government were pleased with Lord Cochrane's activities, and said so frequently and publicly as in Zenteno's letter of 22 February. They expressed the same views in private. In a confidential letter sent by O'Higgins to the Senate at the end of March, for example, he stressed the importance of the capture of Valdivia to the Chilean nation, and concluded 'the government finds itself necessary for reasons of policy, gratitude and justice to show to Lord Cochrane - the one and only author of this reconquest - due recognition that we are indebted to him for its success. He has gloriously extended himself beyond the purely naval sphere and has rendered the fatherland a truly extraordinary service.'13 The Chilean Government had already shown its appreciation by almost doubling Cochrane's pay and prize money: now it awarded him the Chilean Order of Merit, a Gold Medal and an estate of 20,000 acres at Rio Clara in the south.

  The Chileans gave Cochrane all he craved for in terms of recognition, reward and approval, yet it is astonishing to find that he could not believe it. Driven by a restless and suspicious temperament, he persuaded himself that, in spite of all appearances, he was being secretly criticised by his superiors and was surrounded by people who were plotting to get rid of him. Cochrane began to develop psychosomatic symptoms,
complaining of palpitations of the heart.14 Not even the joy of becoming the father of a baby girl in March 1820 seemed to relieve his mounting inner tensions. The child was christened Elizabeth Joséphine with O'Higgins standing as Godfather and Cochrane wrote personal letters to his closest acquaintances telling them the good news.15

  From the perspective of O'Higgins and his government, Cochrane's victories shone with even greater glory against the background of what was happening in Argentina. During 1819, there had been disturbing signs of political disintegration and of a struggle for power between the centralisers of Buenos Aires and the federalist warlords in the provinces. Indeed, in the states of Entre Rios and Santa Fe only the proximity of the Northern Army under General Belgrano was preventing a revolt. Private armies roamed the pampas causing fear and disruption. One of the worst was the so-called 'Chilean Legion' led by the last of the Carrera brothers, José Miguel. The government in Buenos Aires, exhausted by a succession of wars and with trade at a standstill, seemed powerless to prevent it. Not even the threat of the Great Expedition preparing at Cadiz stimulated any closing of ranks. At the end of 1818, Director Pueyrredon had been replaced by the weak and vacillating General Rondeau, whose first act was to recall San Martin and the Army of the Andes from Chile! San Martin reluctantly returned with half his men, but stayed at Mendoza, just over the border, preferring to remain as a distant, brooding presence while events played themselves out in the south. It was only in February 1820 - at the same time as Cochrane reached Valparaiso after the taking of Valdivia - that a compromise agreement was hammered out in Buenos Aires, allowing San Martin to return with reinforcements to prepare for the final assault on the royalists in Peru. In these circumstances, the pleasure with which O'Higgins and his ministers received and acknowledged Cochrane's achievements is hardly surprising.

  There were some matters of course on which disagreements between the Chilean Government and its Vice Admiral were inevitable. There were, for example, long running tensions due to the different traditions of the British and Spanish navies. In the former, admirals enjoyed considerable freedom of action, while individual captains exercised almost untrammelled authority within the ships they commanded. In the Spanish tradition, which Chile largely inherited, not only was control from the centre more rigid, but the representatives of the different shore based departments on board had authority that was independent of the captain. Neither Cochrane nor his British commanders seemed sensitive to this and acted in the way to which they were accustomed. One result that was significant and alarming to the Chileans was the imposition of fierce and brutal British ideas of discipline on their crews.

  A major problem was that of prize money. By the middle of 1820, Cochrane had already been paid $19,244 (that is, £3,850) for enemy ships and property taken during the blockade of Callao and off Valdivia.16 But a serious disagreement arose when it emerged that prize money would only be paid in respect of ships and property captured afloat or in transit. Cochrane was used to a system whereby the captors retained the booty when an enemy town was taken and expected the same rules to apply to the taking of Valdivia. The South Americans, however, had a different view. They believed that the liberation struggle was about the replacement of the Spanish regimes by independent ones, and that the ownership of public property would simply pass from one government to the next. The idea that their continent and its cities were 'enemy' territory, whose riches belonged to whoever captured them, was unthinkable. As a result, there was no massive hand-out of prize money following Cochrane's capture of Valdivia. And since he was unable or unwilling to understand the Chilean position, he nursed a permanent grievance.

  Pay, however, was the greatest problem. Not Cochrane's of course. The Chileans knew the Vice Admiral's reputation well enough to know that it was wise to ensure that he received his emoluments promptly. Thus, by October 1820 he had already been paid $17,462 - the equivalent of £3,490 - in addition to his prize money. As usual, however, with the assistance of Kitty, his expenditure was running out of control and already amounted to $71,052, much of it was related to acquiring and developing a second estate at Quintero on the Bay of Herradura, a few miles up the coast from Valparaiso.17 Although set in a delightful location, Cochrane's interest in the place was largely commercial. He had noticed - and surveys by his captains had confirmed - that Herradura was an ideal location for a naval base, being sheltered from the northerly gales that could hit Valparaiso with such devastating force during the winter. It also had the advantage of being near enough for easy official communications while being sufficiently distant to ensure that the crews were neither distracted by the town's grog shops nor tempted to desert to the merchant ships that filled the port.18 Cochrane intended to run Quintero as a huge cattle ranch and his partner John Miers - the son-in-law of his erstwhile radical comrade Francis Place - had already begun to assemble in nearby Concon the machinery needed to produce salt beef in barrels, flour and biscuit with a view to becoming the principal supplier of the Chilean Navy and of visiting merchant ships.

  Lord Cochrane may have received all his pay, but others were not so lucky. The problem was that the perpetual poverty of the Chilean Government made it difficult for them to produce the large sums of ready cash needed to pay the officers and men of the squadron. This was especially so in 1820, when they were preoccupied with finding the resources needed to fund San Martin's invasion of Peru. Thus, when Cochrane returned to Valparaiso he found the squadron unpaid and increasingly resentful. The foreign seamen, whose annual engagements had come to an end in February, were leaving in shoals, disgusted with their treatment and at the end of their patience. In April, the lieutenants, surgeons, midshipmen, warrant and petty officers of the fleet petitioned in a body for their pay. Cochrane himself backed the protest and threatened to resign unless something was done. His letter was one of the compendium sort he favoured, complaining not only about pay, but about delays in prize money, the poor quality of the provisions, the government's use of Spanish prisoners who had sabotaged the manufacture of the rockets, and the rigid nature of his orders, which had hampered the squadron's operations.19 Zenteno replied in detail, firmly correcting Cochrane's wilder claims. He pointed out that all cash seized during 1819 had already been distributed; that prize money for the Maria Isabel and for ships taken before January 1819 had been fully paid; that the hold-up relating to ships captured after that date was entirely due to the fact that Cochrane's staff - Dean, Stevenson and Hoseason - had failed to submit the proper paperwork; that prisoners of war had not been used on the skilled work of making rockets; and that Cochrane had in fact been given full authority to act independently within the spirit of his instructions.20 As was their custom, Cochrane's entourage ensured that his letter received wide circulation. Zenteno's reply did not. Then, while the two men argued, on 8 May the officers of the San Martin downed tools and refused duty, being supported by a round-robin signed by 33 officers representing all six warships that were in harbour at the time.21 Cochrane dealt sternly with the outbreak and put the San Martin's officers under temporary arrest. But the petition, plus Cochrane's threat, must have helped to do the trick, and by 30 May the government had managed to raise enough money to pay the squadron's arrears up to the end of the previous December.

  During 1820, the priority of the Chilean Government was to prepare for the forthcoming invasion of Peru - the last, and long awaited, showdown with the Spanish Empire in the Americas. San Martin - now back from the Argentine -O'Higgins and Zenteno were preoccupied with raising huge amounts of money, assembling troops, finding equipment, guns and supplies and impelling the inefficient and under-funded marine departments to ensure that the navy was mobilised, manned and ready. Indeed, the challenge of organising and supplying the transport needed for the troops was so obviously beyond the competence of the Commandancia of Marine, that a private company had to be created to do the job. In these circumstances, the manner of Lord Cochrane's protests can hardly have been welcomed: but the navy would play
a crucial part in the invasion, and it must have been clear that its effectiveness depended on the distribution of pay. Thus, in spite of its hectoring tone, Cochrane's intervention was accepted as a positive element in the planning of the invasion.

  Chapter 7

  PLOTS AND PARANOIA

  By the middle of 1820, the Chilean Navy's pay problems may have been settled, but to the dismay of the government, Lord Cochrane's complaints did not stop. This time they were caused by personality clashes within the officer corps which the Vice Admiral seemed to be stimulating rather than containing. The leadership challenge facing Lord Cochrane was certainly not easy. In creating a navy, the greatest problem for O'Higgins and his government had been to find officers and sailors to man and fight their ships. Chile was a continental country, few people were seafarers, and there was little maritime tradition. Filling the gap with experienced British and American sailors seemed an ideal solution. But there were disadvantages. These men were fighting principally for pay and, although many were attracted by the cause of freedom, there was no shared patriotic tradition. The principal focus of their loyalty therefore became the ships in which they served and the captains who commanded them. American Consul General Prevost bluntly summarised the situation - and Cochrane's achievements - in a dispatch sent in September 1819. 'When I take into view', he wrote:

  the materials with which he had to operate, I think he deserves infinite praise for having maintained the Sovereignty of the Ocean. He had difficulties to encounter in the organisation of the marine and in the discipline of the crews that would have appalled a less determined character - men of every grade and description assembled from different parts of the Globe for the purpose of plunder as of promoting the cause of freedom have by his address, firmness and perseverance been subdued into perfect order.1