A Voyage round the World / A book for boys

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“No one ever deserved it less,” exclaimed Fleming. “The devil, to my mind, is cunning and cowardly, and a fool into the bargain. Resist him, and he’ll run away. Act a straightforward, honest part, and he can never get round you. Lord Cochrane, you see, mates, was as true and honest as steel, as brave as his sword, and so wise, that he never undertook to do anything when he didn’t see the way clear before him that would lead to success.” Tom agreed also in heartily praising their old chief, though they were not very complimentary to the Spaniards or to the people of Chili, whom he had come to assist.

“I say, Tom, do you mind when we were going away from Valparaiso to attack Callao, and you and I were serving aboard the O’Higgins, how that lieutenant brought the admiral’s little son on board?” said Fleming, for the purpose, I suspect, of drawing his friend out.

“Ay, that I do,” answered Tom Carver. “You see the flag-lieutenant had gone on shore for some of the admiral’s traps, when he fell in with the little chap, who wasn’t more than five or six years old. ‘I want to go with father,’ says he. ‘I must go with father aboard the big ship there. I will go.’ At first the lieutenant said he couldn’t take him; but the little fellow cried out so, that he couldn’t find it in his heart to refuse him; so he lifted him up on his shoulders and carried him away to the boat. The child shouted and crowed with pleasure, waving his little hat above his head, just like a sucking hero as he was. When the people saw it, they seemed as if they would grow mad with delight, and followed him in crowds, cheering and crying out, ‘Viva la Patria’ at the top of their voices. I was one of the boat’s crew, and certainly there was something in it somehow which took our fancy mightily. Off we pulled aboard the flag-ship, before Lady Cochrane found out what had become of the child, and I daresay she was in a great taking. Well, we only got aboard just as the ship was under weigh, and he couldn’t be sent on shore again. There was nothing to be done but to take him with us. We weren’t sorry to have him, for, you see, next to a monkey, there’s nothing does a ship’s company more good than having a little child to look after. The small chap had nothing but the clothes he was dressed in. ‘What’s to be done with him?’ says the admiral. ‘Why, bless ye, my lord, he’ll have fifty nurses, every one as good as the she-maids as has to look after him ashore,’ answered Ben Brown, the admiral’s coxswain; ‘and as for clothing, the ship’s tailor will rig him out in no time.’ To my mind, the admiral rather liked having the little fellow with him. Fearless himself, he couldn’t even feel fear for one of those he loved best on earth. Young master very soon made himself at home among us, and in a couple of days the ship’s tailor had as complete a midshipman’s uniform made for him as you’d wish to see.

“We were bound, do you see, to Callao, where the admiral discovered that a large Spanish ship was about to sail for Europe, with great treasure aboard. Besides her, there was a Spanish squadron of considerable force lying in the harbour, under the protection of the guns of the forts. The admiral was up to all sorts of dodges, so he hoisted American colours, and, as two United States’ ships of war were expected with another ship, stood in. A fog, however came on, and the Lantaro, one of our squadron, parting company, his plan was defeated. However, we fell in with a Spanish gunboat in the fog, and took her. Fogs and light winds baffled us for some time; but the admiral was not a man to be turned aside from what he had intended, so at last we got in before the forts, and with springs on our cables began blazing away at them and the fleet, of which there were altogether some fourteen vessels. Well, I was telling you of the admiral’s little son. Of course his father was very anxious about him, for it was no child’s work we were about, so he locked him up as he fancied safe in his after-cabin. As soon, however, as the firing began, the youngster thought he should like to see some of the fun; so what does he do, but work his way out through the quarter-gallery window, and find his way up on deck. ‘Go down below, sir, this moment,’ says the admiral when he sees him. ‘You’ll be having your head shot off if you stay here.’ The shot was flying about us pretty thick by that time, let me tell you. ‘No, no, daddy,’ says he. ‘Let me stay here. You stay, and de oder midshipmens stay; why shouldn’t I?’ He couldn’t speak quite plain yet, do you see. ‘Take him below out of harm’s way, one of you,’ says the admiral, turning to me. You see he had plenty to do watching the enemy and issuing orders, and had not time to look after the boy. So as the admiral ordered, I seized up the young gentleman, and was going to carry him off below, when he began to kick up such a hubbub, and to kick, and scratch, and bite, it was as hard work to hold him as it would have been to gripe a rattlesnake. ‘Put me down, I say—put me down,’ he sung out. ‘I’ll not go below. I want to stay on deck and fight the enemy.’ Well, I saw that there was no use in taking him below, because, as no one could be spared to look after him, he would have been soon up again; besides, to my mind, a shot finds its way into one part of a ship as well as another. So I put him down again, and there was his little lordship as busy as any powder-monkey, handing up the powder to the gunners. Well, as I was saying, the shot was falling pretty thick about our ears, when a round shot takes off the head of a marine standing close to the small boy, scattering the brains and blood of the poor fellow right over the small chap, almost blinding him. The admiral was looking that way. His tall figure bent forwards. I thought he would have fallen from the agony of his mind. He believed his child was killed. In an instant, however, the little hero recovered himself, and dashing the blood from his face, ran up to his lordship. ‘Don’t be afraid, papa,’ says he; ‘I’m not hurt—the shot did not strike me. Tom says the ball isn’t cast that can kill mamma’s boy.’ That was true enough, for he’d heard some of us say, what we believed, that he couldn’t come to harm any more than his father could. The admiral’s face brightened again, when he saw that no harm had happened to the boy. I suppose after this he thought as we did, for he let him stay on deck during the whole action; and a pretty sharp one it was, when I tell you we had two hundred guns firing away at us for a couple of hours. If it hadn’t been for the fog, we shouldn’t have had a stick standing at the end of it. After this we had several brushes with the enemy.

“At last the admiral considered that it would be a great thing to take Valdivia, a strongly-fortified place on the south of Chili, still held by the Spaniards. We had some Chilian troops on board, and very brave fellows they were, under a French officer. Our own officers were worth very little, and the admiral had to look after everything himself. One night we were off the island of Quiriquina, and he had turned in to take a little rest, leaving the deck in charge of one of the lieutenants. The lieutenant thought he should like a snooze, so he turned in and left a midshipman in charge of the ship. The midshipman went to sleep, and when he awoke he found the ship all aback. In trying to box her off he ran her on shore, on the sharp edge of a rock, where, if there had been any swell, she would have beaten her bottom in. Many of the people wanted to abandon the ship; but the admiral was not a man to allow such a thing while there was a hope of getting her off; and telling them that they would be all murdered by the savages on the coast if they landed, he set all hands to work at the pumps. When they came to be examined, they were all out of repair; and as the carpenter could make no hand at mending them, what does the admiral do but whip off his coat and set to work with his own hands. Didn’t we feel that he was a man we’d follow through thick and thin, though we knew that pretty well before then. At last, what with pumping and bailing, we found that the water did not gain on us, so the stream anchor was got, and heaving on it with a will, we once more set the old ship afloat. ‘Never mind, my lads,’ says the admiral; ‘if we can but make her swim as far as Valdivia, we shall do very well without a ship for a time.’ By that we knew he intended to take and occupy the place. The admiral wanted to take the Spaniards by surprise, so he shifted his flag aboard the Intrepedo brig-of-war, taking with him the Montezuma, a man-of-war schooner, and, in spite of a high sea, all the troops were put on board the two vessels. You should just see what sort of a place Valdivia is, with strong forts on both sides of a channel not three-quarters of a mile wide. There is only one small landing-place, called the Aquada del Ingles, with a fort protecting it. Towards that we stood, for the surf sets so heavily on the shore, that a boat attempting to land anywhere else would be knocked to pieces. We had a gallant English officer in command of the troops, Major Miller. I never saw such a fire-eater. His body was almost riddled with shot, but he never seemed to mind; nothing sickened him of fighting; and as soon as he got well he was as ready for work as ever. So, as I was saying, the brig and schooner ran in and anchored close to Fort Ingles, keeping the boats on the other side of the vessels, out of sight. The admiral hailed the fort, and said we had lost our boats coming round Cape Horn, and begged they would send one; but just then one of ours drifted astern, and the Spaniards, smelling a rat, opened fire on us. Instantly the admiral ordered the troops to land, and a launch, with the gallant Major Miller, and some forty-four marines, shoved off, and under a heavy shower of musket-balls, pushed for the shore. His coxswain was wounded, and he received a shot through his hat. On we shoved (for I was with him), and leaping on shore with loud cheers, we drove the enemy before us at the point of the bayonet. I forgot to tell you that when the O’Higgins got on shore, we had nearly all our powder spoiled, so that he had to depend entirely on the bayonet. There’s no better weapon to be used when Spaniards are concerned. They can’t stand it. Other boats followed, and in less than a hour we had 300 troops landed. We waited till it was dark to begin the attack. There was a gallant young ensign, Mr Vidal. While the main body advanced in front, firing off their muskets, and shouting to show the Spaniards that we were going to give them a taste of the bayonet, he got round to the rear of the forts, and opening his fire, the enemy got frightened, and took to their heels, while we took the forts—which was what we had come to take. At the same time 300 more Spaniards, who were marching into Fort Ingles, were seized with a panic, and all fled together. The brave Chilians bayoneted them by dozens; and when the gates of the other forts were opened to receive the fugitives, they entered at the same time, and thus fort after fort was taken with very little loss to us, but a good deal to the enemy. Two days after, we attacked the forts on the other side of the water with the same success, and then took the town of Valdivia itself, which is some little way up the river. We found a large supply of ammunition in the place, and I know that I got a fair share of prize-money. That Major Miller I was telling you of was soon after this again desperately wounded in attempting to take another fort. When he had fallen, his faithful marines made a desperate charge, and brought him off. They were all Chilians, it must be remembered. One of them, named Roxas, was a very brave fellow. He was the first to land with the major, and had helped to carry him to the beach on their retreat. Two out of three were wounded, and when the major invited him to step into the boat, ‘No, sir,’ says he; ‘I was the first to land, and I intend to be the last to leave the shore.’ You see, young gentlemen, it is not only Englishmen can do gallant things, and I like when I have an opportunity to praise those with other blood in their veins.

“You’d like to know how we took the Esmeralda, I daresay?” said Tom.

“I told Master Harry all about that the other day,” observed Fleming. “It was a gallant thing, wasn’t it?”

“But, I say, I wonder if the gentlemen over heard talk of what my lady did? She was, for a woman, and a young, beautiful woman too, just as brave as my lord. Well, I’ll tell you. The first part I heard from a man, a soldier, a brave, faithful fellow, who was with her; the rest I saw myself. She, with her baby, was up the country, at a place called Quilca, among the mountains, when, as she was at a ball at some great man’s house there, she heard that the Spaniards had made up their minds to seize her and her infant, and to detain them as hostages. To think with her was to act. Going quietly out of the ball-room and changing her dress, she popped the nurse and child into a sort of palanquin, and mounting one of her horses, and ordering out all the rest, she started away in the middle of the night, and pushed on without stopping anywhere, or telling any one where she was going. All that night and all next day she travelled on, mounting another horse whenever the one she rode grew tired. At last she arrived at a dark ravine, just a split in the mountain some hundred feet deep, with a foaming torrent roaring below. There was just the sort of rope bridge we had to cross yesterday. Some of the people had gone down below to haul the horses over, and she had sent her own horse across, when what should they hear but the sound of the enemy’s bugles. Seizing her child, she ordered the palanquin-bearers to go over, and then followed close behind them herself. Again the bugle sounded,—the enemy were close at hand. She hurried on, but the movements of so many people crossing made the bridge swing fearfully from side to side. She felt as if she must be thrown off into the raging gulf below. More and more the bridge swung, and at length, overcome with terror, she sank down on the narrow pathway, clasping the infant to her breast. I’ve heard people say they dream of such things. Here was the reality. The bridge continued to swing backwards and forwards with a fearful motion, and she clung to it for her life. It was a great risk for any one else to venture on the bridge, but, in spite of that, Pedro, the soldier I told you of, crawled along, and, says he in his own language, ‘Give me the child, my lady, and I’ll take care of it;’ and crawling along with it in his arms, he placed it in safety. Then he went back, and helped Lady Cochrane across. Just then the advance guard of the enemy’s troops appeared, winding down the sides of the mountains. Pedro and the other men hacked away at the bridge; the ropes parted and fell into the torrent, and her ladyship was safe, while the Spaniards ground their teeth in vain. On she pushed, till she reached the coast, and there she found the admiral’s ship, and came on board. We were all proud to have her; for you see, with all her beauty, there wasn’t a bit of vanity or nonsense about her, and she would speak kind-like to any one of us, just as if we was her equal. Soon after she came on board, the admiral heard that there was a rich Spanish ship just about putting to sea, and a very good sailer. He knew if she once got ahead of us we should never catch her up, so, without waiting to land Lady Cochrane, we slipped our cables and made sail up to where the treasure-ship and several others of the enemy’s vessels lay at anchor. We beat to quarters, and got up to them about midnight all ready for action. We were not long in beginning the sport, nor they in returning the compliments we paid them; for, besides the treasure-ship, the Spaniards had some gun-boats moored under their forts. While we were firing away, the mother, just like her little son, wouldn’t leave the deck, but stood there like any hero, animating the men.

“After some time one of the crew of a gun, a Chilian, seemed to be afraid of firing. What does her ladyship do, but, seizing his arm, and guiding the match to the touch-hole, fire the gun! She thought maybe that the man would be punished if he was observed. However, the effort was too much for her, for you see she was but a young woman, and she sank down on deck in a fainting fit. We thought she was wounded, and several of us ran forward to lift her up and carry her below. It did our hearts good to find that there was nothing really the matter with her. When the action was over, and we had pretty well knocked the treasure-ship and gun-boats to pieces, we returned in the morning to our former anchorage. As we were furling sails, her ladyship came on deck to show us she was all to rights. No sooner was the canvas stowed, than we manned yards of our own accord, and then didn’t we cheer her and the admiral with right good will; and the whole crew, one and all, Chilians and Englishmen, five hundred of us, burst forth with the hymn of the Republic, praying at the end that Heaven would bless and prosper them. She bowed more than once, but didn’t say a word, and then burst into tears.

“Ah! she was the lady who knew how to win a sailor’s heart!”