by Brian Vale
Cochrane's story had an enormous impact and produced the desired result. After a debate in the Brazilian Legislature on 16 August 1855, the government granted the halfpay pension he had been promised. On 23 February 1857, James Moore and Co triumphantly remitted £34,000 to Lord Cochrane being his pay and his pension backdated to 10 November 1825 calculated at $6000 per annum. But this was not the end of it. Cochrane remained aggrieved about the prize money issue. Unfortunately, the incomplete nature of the records relating to the War of Independence caused endless delays in settling the question. The good news, however, was that new regulations had raised Cochrane's share of prizes taken to one-fifth of the amount available! Alas, he was never to see it. It took years for the Brazilian Government to sort out the matter and its first award of £9459 was not paid until 1865 - five years after his death. The amount was, however, regarded as inadequate, and Cochrane's son, the 11th Earl of Dundonald, returned to the attack, launching a new barrage of demands, most of which were either dubious or imaginary. To prevent the dispute dragging on any longer, the Brazilians went to international arbitration. A lengthy and well-considered judgment was delivered in 1873. It roundly dismissed most of the new demands but concluded that £34,500 was still owed in prize money. To its credit, the Brazilian Government accepted the findings without demur and promptly paid that sum to Lord Cochrane's heirs.18
In 1855, Cochrane reached his eightieth year, and had become one of the monuments of Victorian Britain. He had achieved full rehabilitation and recognition for the astonishing achievements of his life but, alas, the old obsessions with injustice and money still rankled. So, with a mass of documents at his disposal, a team of eager helpers and the outline of his story already available in a mass of petitions and memorials, Cochrane decided to write the story of his life in the way he wanted it remembered. The first two books appeared in 1859 under the title Narrative of Services in the Liberation of Chile, Peru and Brazil. They were joined the following year by the Autobiography of a Seaman, which recounted, in two further volumes, his adventures and feuds during the Napoleonic Wars. Cochrane never wrote an account of his adventures in Greece, but they were described in 1869, when the 11th Earl of Dundonald produced a two-volume Life of Lord Cochrane, which completed the story of his father's life.
Cochrane was 84 years old when these autobiographies were written, deaf, ailing and only able to contributed half-remembered reminiscences. The real author was a professional writer called G. P. Earp, assisted by his former secretary, William Jackson. Although Earp claimed that he had been objective, the declared purpose of these books was to vindicate Cochrane, to prove that he had been right in all his innumerable quarrels, and to justify his financial claims. Indeed, Earp was promised a percentage of any payments the book might stimulate. It is therefore hardly surprising to find that these autobiographies are filled with inaccuracies and present a travesty of the truth. The quality of the various books, however, varies considerably. The Autobiography of a Seaman is the best. When Earp wrote it, he had plenty of books, newspaper accounts and memoirs on which to draw, as well as Cochrane's own papers. At the other extreme, the Brazilian volume of the Narrative of Services was undoubtedly the worst. The lack of books and background material resulted in an account that not only contained glaring errors of fact, date and geography, but was dominated by Cochrane's vividly misremembered grievances.
The Chilean volume of the Narrative of Services fell between these two extremes. On the positive side, Earp was able to draw on the books already published by Maria Graham, Miers and Stevenson. This enabled him to get the chronology of events more or less correct. But in terms of providing a true account of what actually took place, and of the motives and actions of men like San Martin, Zenteno, Guise and Spry, Earp's book is disturbingly distorted. Unfortunately for him, material from South America that might have led him to modify his narrative was unavailable and, although Cochrane's papers included mountains of original documents, most were in Spanish and beyond Earp's comprehension. Likewise, Maria Graham, Miers and Stevenson were blatantly partisan and, rather than help to correct the old Admiral's distorted memories of events, they actually reflected and reinforced them. The result is that as a work of history, the Narrative of Services is deeply flawed. It is therefore unfortunate that for more than 150 years, the book has been accepted at its face value and has had a perverse effect on the way the wars of independence in the Pacific has been recorded by British, Spanish and - indeed - Chilean historians.
When his autobiographies were published, Cochrane was a hero and a legend, and his version of his astonishing career in South America was read with respect and total belief. No one seems to have doubted or questioned anything he said. Indeed, the dramatic quality of his story, the nobility of the causes for which he fought and, indeed, the element of betrayal by lesser men - mostly foreigners -confirmed Cochrane in the Victorian imagination as the ideal warrior hero. Inevitably too, the story stimulated a host of supporting legends and myths. Cochrane claimed, for example, that in the Pacific, his fearful enemies had called him 'El Diablo'. There is no evidence for this. Indeed his only known nickname is that recorded by Paroissien -'el metalico lord', the spirit of which is roughly translated as 'the count of cash' or 'the baron of bullion'! Likewise loose words from Kitty resulted in a story that Cochrane had sent Colonel Charles to rescue Napoleon from St Helena and make him Emperor of South America.19 This is a complete fable made the more ridiculous by the fact that Charles was killed two months before he is alleged to have set out for the South Atlantic.
Lord Cochrane spent the last years of his life in the home of his son and heir Thomas, at Queen's Gate, Kensington. But he was an old man, and his health and memory were deteriorating rapidly. He underwent two painful operations for kidney stones in 1860 but, alas, did not survive the second and died on 31 October, just short of his eighty-fifth birthday. He was buried on 14 November with all the elaborate ceremonial of a Victorian funeral - an ornate hearse with six plumed black horses, eight carriages of mourners, and silent crowds lining the route as the procession wound its way along Knightsbridge and Piccadilly, through St James Street and Pall Mall and into Parliament Street. The ceremony was attended by a galaxy of naval and political personalities representing the various stages of his career, including Admiral Sir George Seymour of the Royal Navy who had fought with him at the Basque Roads, John Pascoe Grenfell, his old follower in South America who was now a Brazilian Vice Admiral, and the Ministers of Brazil and Chile. As befitted a hero, he was buried in Westminster Abbey.
Chapter 17
EPILOGUE
Lord Cochrane's career as Vice Admiral of Chile was a formative period in his life. Indeed, the war in the Pacific brought out the best and the worst in him. On the positive side, the huge panorama of the naval war and his position as commander-in-chief gave him ample opportunity to exercise his aggression, his ingenuity and his tactical flare. Once again, he was able to demonstrate his astonishing personal courage and leadership in battle and to confirm his reputation as a master of amphibious warfare. The spectacular victories he achieved, notably in the capture of Valdivia and the seizure of the Esmeralda, ensured the independence of Chile and Peru and became the cornerstones of his own reputation. They also shattered Spanish morale, forced them onto the defensive and were major contributions to the ultimate victory of the forces of independence.
On the negative side, however, the subordinate role he and the navy were expected to play in the liberation campaign was at odds with Cochrane's temperament and his personal style. Cochrane was never a team player and expected to be given complete operational freedom. Indeed, having no doubts about his own superior abilities, he firmly believed that the best way to ensure victory was for him to be left to operate as he thought fit, unhampered by orders from anyone else. In South America this was not possible. Victory in the liberation struggle could only be gained on the battlefield, and the navy's activities, though important, had to be controlled and coordinat
ed with what took place on land. Cochrane was therefore disconcerted when he was required to operate under tight orders and when, in the invasion of Peru, he was put firmly under San Martin's direction. True, he stretched his orders to the limit, and ignored them when he could - typically achieving a spectacular victory at Valdivia as a result - but the obvious attempts to curb his independence soon triggered the conviction in his mind that he was surrounded by plots and jealousy. He was also disappointed that he was able to exert so little influence on patriot strategy. San Martin and O'Higgins had clear ideas on what was needed to roll back Spanish power in Peru and did not need a newcomer like Cochrane to tell them what to do.
Cochrane's service as Vice Admiral of Chile was his first taste of being responsible for a whole squadron rather than an individual ship. This gave him the opportunity to magnify his impact on the war, but it imposed limitations on his personal activities, which he found irksome. So much so that he often preferred - as at Valdivia - to act with the O'Higgins alone. Likewise, while he was perfectly capable of masterminding the squadron's operations, the routine responsibilities of being a commander-in-chief made him bored and careless. Distracted by the search for spectacular opportunities for action, he paid insufficient attention to more humdrum duties like convoying San Martin's army to Peru or rigorously blockading Callao. Likewise, Cochrane found administrative chores uncongenial and left too much to his inexperienced and mistrusted staff. Unfortunately these activities began to occupy more and more of his time. In the Royal Navy - and to a lesser extent in the navy of Brazil - the infrastructure for pay and supplies on land, and the traditions of discipline and obedience at sea were well established, and left Cochrane to do what he was good at - namely leadership in action. In the Pacific neither was true. The inability of the Chilean departments of marine to keep the squadron supplied and paid placed enormous burdens on him during the invasion of Peru. Cochrane was left alone to solve these problems, living off the land and resorting to almost any trick to keep his ships afloat and his men fed. Unfortunately, neither Cochrane nor his staff had much understanding of the bureaucratic traditions and procedures that Chile had inherited from old Spain, and the pragmatic expedients to which they resorted were often more than the system could tolerate. Cochrane suffered the consequences when the Chilean Auditor General, Correa de Sa, found it impossible to pass the squadron's accounts for the Peruvian expedition. The government had of course been aware of this problem from the beginning and had tried to provide help in the shape of the experienced Alvares Jonte, who was fully aware of the legal and financial pitfalls. Unfortunately, Cochrane seemed oblivious to the problem and, convinced that there were sinister motives behind the appointment, quickly got rid of Jonte, leaving no one who really understood how the system worked. All this left Cochrane stressed and irascible. They also fuelled his deep instinct that his problems lay not with himself, but in the malice and deliberate obstruction of others.
Cochrane's record and reputation suggested that he would have no difficulty in stamping his authority on Chile's new navy and in establishing himself as its undisputed head. With a heterogeneous collection of officers and men, recruited in different ways, serving principally for pay and with no shared traditions of loyalty or obedience, leadership of this nature was certainly needed. Strangely, Cochrane seemed unable to provide it. In battle his leadership was spectacular. Out of it, his leadership was poor. There is ample testimony that he was able to exert great personal magnetism on those who were immediately around him on his flagship, but he seemed unable to inspire those who were not. His relationship with these officers was cold and distant, and his naturally suspicious nature and tendency to listen to malicious gossip alienated many with unblemished service records in the Royal Navy and who would have been only too happy to follow his lead. His taciturn nature and his monosyllabic mode of speech did not help. Neither did his favouritism to followers, his brooding suspicions or the self-interest he showed in relation to prize money. He even seems to have gone into denial about the huge sums he was paid, even though he was regularly shipping money back to England.
The problems of keeping the Chilean squadron operational would have tried the patience of a saint. Unfortunately Cochrane was no saint and he had little patience. His instinctive mistrust of anyone in authority quickly asserted itself. The reluctance of Chilean ministers to give him the operational freedom he craved, their failure to solve his problems of supply and pay, and their refusal to accept his strategic recommendations confirmed his deepest suspicions. He rapidly came to the conclusion that ministers were hostile, and so jealous of a foreigner achieving military glory that they deliberately undermined his efforts. He even managed to persuade himself that he was being secretly criticised in high places for his lack of success off Callao and that his superiors were plotting to get rid of him. In fact, nothing was further from the truth. To the Chileans he was indispensable and the authorities amply expressed their gratitude in terms of public praise, high honours and substantial sums of money. Throughout his career Cochrane seems to have had a psychological need for the approval of his superiors. It is strange to see that when it was bestowed in such abundance in Chile and Peru, he could not believe it.
Today in South America, Cochrane remains a hero and a legend. The Chileans venerate him as one of the giants of their country's independence and the creator of their navy, and have generously overlooked the negative side of his troubled and quarrelsome personality. Statues have been erected to his memory, and museums, plazas and streets - even towns -have been named after him. There is always an Almirante Cochrane in the Chilean list of warships, two rooms in the Maritime Museum in Valparaiso are devoted to his life and achievements, and dramatic paintings of his victories by Thomas Somerscales fill the walls of the National Congress and the Club Naval of Valparaiso. In terms of his contribution to independence Lord Cochrane deserves this reputation. In his three-year command of the Chilean Navy he had, in typically audacious and spectacular ways, wrested command of the Pacific from the Spaniards and effectively ensured the independence of Chile and Peru. As Maria Graham put it, 'he had taken, destroyed, or forced to surrender every Spanish naval vessel in the Pacific; he had cleared the western coast of America of pirates. He had reduced the most important fortresses of the common enemy, either by storm, or by blockade; and added lustre even to the cause of independence by exploits worthy of his own great name.'
It is Cochrane's tragedy that his uneasy and suspicious personality prevented him from enjoying the fruits of these spectacular triumphs. No sooner had a victory been gained than its effect was squandered in argument and mistrust. Instead of the honours, effusive expressions of thanks and concrete rewards that were visible to everyone else, all Cochrane could see were plots, betrayal and poor treatment. It is the tragedy of succeeding generations that it is this distorted picture of the wars in the Pacific that up to now has been accepted as the truth.
NOTES
Chapter 1: The Andes and the Sea
1. Alvear had been the unwilling witness of a famous naval incident when, in October 1804, a British frigate squadron under Captain Graham Moore comprising Indefatigable, Amphion, Lively and Medusa was sent to detain a neutral Spanish force from the River Plate carrying four million dollars - a sum that would have been indispensable to Spain should she join the war on the side of the French as was rumoured. The Spaniards inevitably resisted and, in the subsequent action, the frigate Mercedes blew up with the loss of all on board, including the wife, four daughters and three sons of a returning colonial official. The officer and his 13-year-old son only survived because they were travelling on the Spanish flagship, Medea. The son spent many years in England as a result, and grew up to become Carlos de Alvear. Ironically, the captured Medea was brought into the Royal Navy and was renamed Imperieuse - the frigate in which Cochrane consolidated his reputation.
2. Bowles to Croker, 1 March 1817, printed in Graham and Humphries (ed.) The Navy and South America (London and Colc
hester, Navy Records Society, 1962), which comprises transcripts of records from the National Archives, Kew.
3. Bowles to Croker, 9 April 1817 and 14 February 1818, The Navy and South America.
4. Hall, Basil, Extracts from a Journal written on the Coasts of Chile, Peru and Mexico in the Years 1820, 1821 and 1822, (Edinburgh 1824), vol. 1, p. 56.
5. The Lautaro Lodge had been founded in the Argentine as an alternative to existing freemasonry with the explicit political purpose of promoting independence. Branches were founded in Chile and Peru following the arrival of San Martin's forces. Members of the Chilean Lodge included San Martin, O'Higgins, Las Heras, Guido, Zenteno, Zanuarte and De la Cruz. See Vicuna MacKenna, Ostracismo del Jeneral Bernardo O'Higgins, (Valparaiso 1860).
6. Bowles to Croker, 28 November 1817, The Navy and South America.