Flushed by his success, General Liniers the next day sent a flag of truce to Whitelocke proposing to surrender all his prisoners if the English would evacuate Buenos Aires. He probably hardly expected anything but rejection of such terms, but the civilian Alzaga seemed to have had a better appreciation of the character of Whitelocke and insisted that _Montevideo_ should be added to _Buenos Aires_. Nothing could be lost by making extravagant demands. The panic-stricken Whitelocke agreed to everything. At first he seems to have hesitated a little, but Liniers had added the menace that he could not be responsible for the safety of the prisoners if the attack were renewed. In any case such a threat should have been treated with contempt, but it was, as it happened, perfectly empty, for the life and property of every inhabitant of Montevideo were in Whitelocke's power.
Finally, he accepted the terms of surrender without raising the slightest objection to the inclusion of Montevideo, and taking great credit to himself for his humanity in yielding to Linier's threat, he wrote complacently: "Influenced by this consideration, which I knew to be founded in fact, and reflecting of how little advantage would be the possession of a country the inhabitants of which were so absolutely hostile, I resolved to forego the advantages which the bravery of the troops had obtained, and acceded to a treaty, which I trust will meet the approbation of his Majesty."
He had signified his willingness to withdraw from Buenos Aires in forty-eight hours and from Montevideo in two months. As the Judge-Advocate remarked at the subsequent trial: "He is his own accuser: he has furnished the strongest testimony against himself." The English army sailed from Buenos Aires on July 12th, from Montevideo on September 9, 1807.
Seldom has there been such a fine army and such splendid officers under such a pusillanimous commander. A young officer[47] on the staff remarks that on many of the street corners in Montevideo was written: "General Whitelocke is either a coward or a traitor! Perhaps both!" He also tells us: "All the English merchants are in an uproar. They say the losses will be immense; that upwards of three millions worth of property is on its way to this country, and that, if it is given up, half the merchants in England will be ruined. God knows what will be the result of this unfortunate affair. It appears to me one of the most severe blows that England has ever received." Whittingham adds, with some penetration, that "the period of a revolution" was "not far distant."