To their great chagrin they found the landing impracticable, and the whole coast in arms. Troops of horse covered the low hills round the bay, and close beneath six ships rode at anchor. Abandoning this project, these indefatigable marauders (more pirates than real Buccaneers) despatched four canoes and fifty men, to plunder the town of Hillo. On the shore the English were met by some horsemen, who fled after a few volleys. Marching to the town, they forced their way through a small breastwork of clay and sandbags, and took the town. Keeping good watch for fear of surprise, a dying Indian, wounded in the skirmish, told them that the townspeople had heard from Lima nine days before, and expected their coming. In the town they found pitch, wine, oil, and flour, and sixty of the ablest men were sent up the adjoining valley to reconnoitre. They found it beautifully planted with fig, lemon, lime, olive, and orange trees, and four miles up came to a sugar-mill, the greater part of the sugar having been removed. The Spaniards, watching them from the hills, rolled stones upon them, but hid themselves when a musket-shot was fired in retaliation. Captain Cox and a Dutch interpreter being despatched with a flag of truce to the Spaniards, they agreed to give eighty beeves as a ransom for the mill, and a message was despatched to Captain Sharp not to injure the drivers of the oxen when they came. Hearing that sixteen beeves had already arrived at the port, the men, contrary to Ringrose's opinion, returned to the ships laden with sugar, and found the whole story of the oxen's arrival a mere ruse de guerre. The Spaniards being appealed to promised the cattle should arrive that night, but at last declared the wind was so high they could not drive the herds. Enraged at this delay, the Buccaneers, who had now taken in water, marched 100 men up the valley, and burned the house, the mill, and the canes, carried off the sugar, broke the oil jars, and cracked the copper wheels. Near the shore they were charged by a body of 300 horsemen, who took them by surprise, but not before they had thrown down the sugar and taken up their arms.
Ringrose shall tell the rest: "We being in good rank and order," he says, "fairly proffered them battle upon the bay; but as we advanced to meet them, they retired and rid towards the mountains, to surround us, and take the rocks from us, if possibly they could. Hereupon, perceiving their intentions, we returned back and possessed ourselves of the said rocks, and also of the lower town, as the Spaniards themselves did of the upper town (at the distance of half-a-mile from the lower), the hills and the woods adjoining thereunto. The horsemen being now in possession of those quarters, we could perceive as far as we could see, more and more men resort unto them, so that their forces increased hourly to considerable numbers. We fired at one another as long as we could see, and the day would permit. But in the mean time we observed that several of them rid to the watch hill and looked out often to the seaward. This gave us occasion to fear that they had more strength and forces coming that way, which they expected every minute. Hereupon, lest we should speed worse than we had done before, we resolved to embark silently in the dark of the night." They carried off a great chest of sugar (seven pounds and a-half to each man), thirty jars of oil, and much fruit, wild and cultivated. From appearances next morning they believed the enemy had also fled in the night, as only fifty men could be seen. The prisoners, seeing a comet at dusk, told the Englishmen that many such appearances had preceded the arrival of the Buccaneers in the South Sea. Their brave prisoner, Captain Peralta, began at this time to show signs of insanity, his mind being shaken by continued hardship and despair at his long imprisonment.
The Buccaneers next landed 100 men, hoping to take by surprise the city of La Serena. Here, too, they found the Spaniards vigilant, and had to break through 100 horsemen to reach the town, killing three officers and wounding four men. The town contained seven great churches and many rich merchants' houses surrounded by gardens. The inhabitants had fled, and either carried away or buried all their treasures, and a Chilian prisoner said the Spaniards had killed most of their negro and even their Chilian slaves, for fear of their revolting and joining the Buccaneers. A party of forty men, with a Chilian guide, searched the woods in vain to secure prisoners for guides. The Spaniards, sending a flag of truce, agreed to pay 95,000 pieces of eight as ransom for the town; but, not bringing it in, the place was set on fire. Taking advantage of an earthquake, the Spaniards opened the sluices and inundated the streets. Every house, Ringrose says, was separately fired to render the conflagration complete. Two parties were then despatched laden with booty to the ships, who on their way beat up an ambuscade of 250 Spanish horse. During their absence, a daring attempt was made to burn their ship. The enemy hired a man who floated under the stern of the ship on a horse's hide, blown out like a bladder. He then stuffed oakum and brimstone between the keel and the stern-post, and set the rudder on fire. The men, alarmed at the smoke, ran up and down, not knowing where the fire could be, and believing the prisoners had done it in order to escape. The source of the evil was at last discovered, and the flames extinguished. The Buccaneers, before sailing, released all their prisoners, not knowing what to do with them, and fearing that they would revolt or perhaps try to burn the ship.
On reaching the island of Juan Fernandez, they solemnized the festival of Christmas by discharging three volleys of shot, and killing sixty goats in one day. The shore was covered so thick with seals that they were obliged to shoot a few in order to land. They then filled 200 water-jars, and were nearly lost in a place called "False Wild Harbour," where they killed several sea-lions. Their beds they made of fern. It was on this island, their pilot told them, a deserted sailor (Alexander Selkirk) had lived five years.
The men now in the midst of storms and dangers, were all in a mutiny. Some were for going back to England or the plantations, and returning by the straits of Magellan; others for continuing longer in those seas. All agreed to depose Captain Sharp and elect John Watling, an old privateer, "and a stout seaman." The next Sunday was the first, says Ringrose, that had been kept by common consent since the death of Sawkins, who would throw the dice overboard if he found any in use on that day.
Juan Fernandez abounded in cabbage palms and building timber. The fish swarmed in such quantities that they could be caught with the bare hook, one sailor in a few hours capturing enough for the whole crew. Shoals a mile long were seen in the bay. While busily employed in catching fish, shooting goats, and cutting timber, the hunters suddenly gave the alarm of three Spanish men-of-war approaching the island, and, slipping their cables, the Buccaneers put out hurriedly to sea. In the confusion, William, a Mosquito Indian, who could not be found at the time, was left behind to endure the hardships that a few days before he may have heard the pilot relate as experienced by the celebrated Alexander Selkirk (the prototype of Robinson Crusoe).
The three Spanish vessels proved to be the El Santo Christo, of 800 tons, carrying twelve guns; the San Francisco, of 600 tons, with ten guns; and a third of 350 tons. As soon as they came in sight, they hung out "bloody flags;" and the Buccaneers, nothing daunted, did the same. The English, keeping close under the wind, were very unwilling to fight, as the Spaniards held together, and their new commander, Watling, showed a faint heart. The trio eventually sheered off, glad to escape uninjured.
Determining to pay a second visit to Arica, twenty-five men and two canoes were despatched to obtain guides from the island of Yqueque. On the shore of the mainland they found a hut built of whales' bones, a cross, and some broken jars.
They brought away from the island, which they could not at first discover, two old white men and two Indians. The people of Arica, they found, came to this place to buy clay, and the natives were obliged to fetch all the water they used from the mainland. The Indians wore no clothes, and chewed leaves which dyed their teeth green. One of the old prisoners being examined was shot to death by order of the commander, who believed him to be lying, although, as it afterwards appeared, he told nothing but the truth. Sharp was troubled and dissatisfied at this cruel and rash order, and, taking water and washing his hands, he said, "Gentlemen, I am clear of the blood of this old man, and will warrant you a hot day for this piece of cruelty whenever we come to fight at Arica." The other prisoner said that he was the superintendent of fifty slaves belonging to the governor of the town. These slaves caught fish and sold them when dried in the inland towns. There were then three Chilian ships and a bark in the harbour, and a fortification of twelve guns in the town. The people had already, he said, heard from Coquimbo of their arrival, and removed and buried their treasure. There were also, they heard, breast-works round the town, and barricades in every street.
Disregarding these warnings, the Buccaneers embarked next day in a launch and four canoes, rowing and sailing all night, in hopes of surprising Arica. At daybreak they hid themselves under the cliffs for fear of being seen, and at night began again to row. On Sunday (Jan. 30), 1680—"sacred to the memory of King Charles the Martyr"—they landed among some rocks four miles to the south of the town, ninety-two men going on shore, the rest staying to defend the boats. The signal agreed on was, that at one smoke, they should come up to the harbour in one canoe; but if there were two smokes, they should "bring all away, leaving only fifteen men with the boats." Mounting a steep hill, they could see no Spaniards, and hoped that the surprise was complete; but as they were descending the other side, three horsemen on the look-out hill rode down at full speed and alarmed the city. The forty men who attacked the fort with hand grenades, seeing their companions overpowered, ran down into the valley to join them. "Here the battle was very desperate, and they killed and wounded two more of our men from their outworks before we could gain upon them. But our rage increasing with our wounds, we still advanced, and at last beat the enemy out of all, and filled every street in the city with dead bodies. The enemy made several retreats from one breast-work to another, but, we had not a sufficient number of men to man all places taken. Insomuch, that we had no sooner beat them out of one place but they came another way, and manned it again with new forces and fresh men." So says Ringrose.