Three days later, in Mendoza, the two younger sons of Ignacio Carrera were shot upon a frivolous charge, an event generally regarded with regret in Chile and always ascribed to the revengeful spirit of San Martín. These young men had been refused permission to join the Army of the Andes, were on parole in Buenos Aires and were still in that city when José Miguel returned from the United States. Here he had obtained means to fit out an expedition, promising to pay the debt with funds obtained from Chilean import duties later on; he chartered five ships, took on arms and ammunition sufficient for several thousand men, and received as volunteers a number of technical workmen, and over a hundred military officers, including seventy French and British.

But when Carrera in his first ship entered Buenos Aires on the way to the Horn, the vessel was seized and he was placed under arrest on board a brig, from which he escaped into the Argentine interior. The remaining vessels of his fleet put back to North America. His two brothers also fled in disguise, but were captured, sent in chains to Mendoza, and there executed by the order of San Martín’s secretary.

The place of the Carreras in history is not great, but they were Chileans of energy and courage deserving a better fate: the story of their youth and good looks, and the tale of Juan José’s beautiful wife who shared his miserable prison until his execution, are still remembered. The fate of the elder brother was no more fortunate: during three years he allied himself with various guerilla revolutionaries in the heart of South America, but was eventually caught and identified, sent to Mendoza, and shot, in 1821.

Chile, now upon her own feet, was still not given up by the Viceroy of Peru, now General Pezuela, and since a land attack could not be again contemplated for a time, the Frigate Esmeralda was sent with the brig Pezuela to blockade Valparaiso. These vessels were driven off by the brilliant action of the Lautaro, a vessel recently bought and armed by the Chilean government and commanded by a young British naval officer, Lieutenant O’Brien, killed at the moment of boarding the Spanish ship. This was Chile’s first naval victory, herald of almost unbroken success upon the sea; she was heartened to the immediate strengthening of this service, and set about the acquisition of vessels while also sending abroad for naval leaders. Chileans had up to that time, of course, no experience in this arm of a nation’s defence: the first Chilean-born admiral, Blanco Encalada, had had no experience but that of a midshipman in the Spanish navy for a few years in his youth. Chile was wise in looking overseas for technical skill. It happened that many British soldiers and sailors, fresh from the Napoleonic wars, were in England when the Chilean envoys came to seek help: hundreds of men took service, partly no doubt for the sake of adventure but also from a genuine sympathy with the gallant fight put up by a little country ranged against the ancient enemy Spain. Among the naval officers who came was Lord Cochrane, with a most distinguished naval career to his credit, the hero of a score of daring deeds at sea and an extremely competent organiser; no personality of Independence is more revered in Chile today than that of Cochrane, and he who said that republics are notoriously ungrateful could never make such a charge against Chile.

But before Cochrane arrived a new success had cheered the embryo navy. Serious danger threatened with news of the coming of a formidable Spanish naval force: a courier brought the story hotfoot from Buenos Aires, where the squadron had put in. Nine ships convoyed by the Maria Isabella of 50 guns set sail from Spain with two thousand troops, but one ship mutinied off the Argentine coast and joined the new Republic; another transport disappeared in the Pacific; seven, with the fine frigate, arrived in Talcahuano Bay in October, 1818, in a wretched state, over 500 men having died on the way. Chile’s new little navy by this time consisted of five vessels: the San Martin, carrying 1000 men, was formerly the British East Indiaman Cumberland, which entered Valparaiso in August, laden with coal, commanded by a Briton named Wilkinson, and went out as a vessel of war of Chile, under the same command. The Lautaro was now commanded by Captain Worcester, an American merchant skipper; the Chacabuco, by Captain Francisco Diaz, an “old Spaniard” who sided with the cause of Independence; the Pueyrredon, Captain Vasquez; and the Araucana, commanded by another Briton, Captain Morris. This force set sail southwards on October 9, and ten days later found the enemy ensconced under the forts of Talcahuano, a town which with Valdivia and Chiloé remained in the hands of the Spanish. In the spirited action which followed the Maria Isabella was run aground, but was seized and got off safely by the Chileans, while the seven Spanish transports were all taken, in the bay or later at sea.

Returning in triumph in November, the fleet was almost at once taken in hand by Cochrane, just arrived from England, and plans made for attacking Callao, where a Spanish squadron had its base. Neither the Chilean nor the Argentine patriots had any quarrel with Peru, but here was the stronghold of Spain on the West Coast; the Pacific could only be rendered safe for enfranchised Chile by its reduction.

In January, 1819, Cochrane sailed north in command of the fleet, consisting then of his flagship, the O’Higgins (formerly the Spanish Maria Isabella), the Lautaro, San Martin and Chacabuco. He took a provision ship and a gunboat of Spain, blockaded Callao successfully from early February till the beginning of May, although Callao was defended by fourteen ships of war and powerful batteries; he found time also to take several small ports up and down the Peruvian coast, as well as prizes carrying loads of cocoa, useful stores, and 200,000 pesos in money. Most of the coast towns were quite ready to embrace independence, but were alternately punished by royalists and patriots for compliance with demands for supplies.

When Admiral Blanco and Cochrane returned to Chile another vessel had just been added to the little navy, the Independencia, purchased in the United States. Two vessels had in fact been bought, but when they arrived in Buenos Aires the agents of Chile had not sufficient specie to complete the payments for both, and had to see the second sail away to Rio, where she was sold to the Brazilian government, although Chile had paid half her price. The relations between the United States and Chile were peculiar at this juncture; the bulk of the population were certainly not unsympathetic, and a number of American individuals were doing a brisk commerce with the young country, but a certain small jealousy seems to have been shown towards Cochrane, and comparatively little help was given to the patriotic cause. But the United States Government quickly recognised the new Chilean government and had appointed a consul during the days of Carrera’s régime.

Before Cochrane refitted his ships for new expeditions, the patriot armies had gained ground in the south, and the outlook had considerably improved. In September, 1819, the Chilean navy returned to Callao with seven ships, chased the Spanish frigate Prueba into the Guayas River, sailed up 40 miles to Guayaquil and seized two armed prizes, the Aguila and the Bigoña. At Puna island, where Spain built most of the vessels used in the Pacific between West Coast ports, Cochrane loaded his prizes with the famous hardwoods of the Guayaquil region, sailed out and took the Potrillo, a provision ship, and sent her to Valparaiso with news while he turned towards Talcahuano with the object of aiding in the obstinate southern struggle.

General Freire, in command of the Chilean army, lent him 250 men, and Cochrane proceeded in a small schooner to reconnoitre the entrance to Valdivia. Here he landed, at sunset on February 2, 1820, led his force of about 350 to the fort “del Inglez,” attacked and took it, went on and stormed Corral fortress, and before the night was over the Chileans had taken possession of the four other main batteries of the south side. With the dawn came the O’Higgins, and realizing the uselessness of further fighting, the Spanish troops abandoned the northern forts and fled up river to Valdivia. The defenders numbered 2000, and the forts were provided with plenty of excellent guns: success was due to the daring of this stroke of Cochrane, a resourceful sea-fighter who well knew the value of a surprise.