José Miguel Carrera, so conspicuous in the revolutions of this part of South America, was shot, at Mendoza, in 1821. He was a Chilian by birth, and belonged to one of the first families there: he was a man of considerable abilities. The execution of his two brothers, Antonio and Luis, in that same city, and other political affairs, had made him vow eternal enmity to the government of Buenos Ayres; particularly to San Martin, whom he much disliked. In his vengeance, he had raised the Indians to assist him. This act lost him many of his friends, who now viewed him with a kind of horror, as chief of barbarians. He was betrayed into the hands of his enemies, and immediately put to death, which, it is almost needless to observe, he underwent with courage, and was buried, it is said, in the same grave with the brothers he so dearly loved.
Carrera was in the prime of life, tall, and elegantly formed: his desperation and courage rank him as one of Lord Byron’s heroes, though not exactly “with one virtue linked to a thousand crimes.” His widow (who has been a fine woman), and infant family, I afterwards saw at Buenos Ayres. One of the latter, a little girl not five years of age, was imprudently asked, in my presence, what had become of her father? “Murdered by the Mendoceans,” she quickly replied.
San Martin, having retired from public life, embarked at Buenos Ayres for France and England, attended by his daughter. His wife, one of the daughters of the late Señor Escalada, died a short time since in this city. San Martin is a tall, stout man, about forty-five years of age: he is said to be rich. He has his detractors; however, they cannot deny him one great military qualification, that of a determined mind. In his dispute with Lord Cochrane, the latter had decidedly the best of the argument, judging from a pamphlet which his lordship has published.
The late General Belgrano, a native of this province, and who distinguished himself in several actions against the Spaniards, has a day set apart for funereal rites: it takes place in June, the anniversary of his death.
In the month of October, 1824, the visit of a New-Zealand chief to Buenos Ayres, by name Tippahée Cupa, attracted much curiosity; he arrived in the British ship Urania, Captain Reynolds. Tippahée came alongside this ship in Cook’s Straits, with a war canoe filled with his people, and, in spite of the remonstrances and even force used by Captain R. refused to quit the vessel, expressing his determination to proceed to England. He bade his followers an affectionate adieu, enjoining obedience to his successor during his absence. The Urania sailed for London with her passenger the 8th December, 1824.
Tippahée, when he first arrived in Buenos Ayres, was clothed in an old red coat, formerly belonging to a London postman. The English paid him many attentions, inviting him to dine at their houses, and new clothing him. His behaviour at table was easy and unembarrassed; and, when requested, he would perform the dances and war songs of New Zealand. He understood a little of the English language, and spoke a few words of it; his intelligent manners, and circumspect conduct, rendered him an universal favourite. On the map he could trace the ship’s course from New Zealand to Lima and Buenos Ayres. He knew an Englishman immediately; the Spaniards he did not much admire, fancying they viewed him with contempt, and was glad to get among Englishmen. His age is about forty; he possesses amazing strength; his tattooed face and appearance always attracted a crowd after him in Buenos Ayres. On board ship he was found very useful, doing all sorts of work, but he positively declined to go aloft. The fate of Captain Thompson, and the crew of the British ship Boyd, ought to bespeak caution in using coercion with these savage chieftains of New Zealand. In Cruise’s book of New Zealand, Tippahee was shewn a picture of a chief of his country, with which he was greatly delighted. The object of his journey to England is to solicit arms and ammunition, to place him upon a par with a rival chief, who possesses those requisites.
At the dinner given on St. Andrew’s day, in December, 1824, by the Scotch gentlemen, Mr. Parish, the British consul, hinted at the speedy acknowledgment of the independence of Buenos Ayres by his government. This intimation was received with great enthusiasm by a numerous company, among whom were the principal members of government.
The Camden packet took home the treaty between the British and Buenos-Ayrean governments, with several passengers, including Mr. Griffiths, one of the vice-consuls, and Mr. Nunez, a Creolian gentleman, secretary to Mr. Rivadavia. The Lord Hobart packet took home passenger Mr. M‘