Cochrane (43 page)

It was not surprising that the drama of the pumps decided many of those on the
O'Higgins
against making an attack on Valdivia. In the first place, the assault was one which no one but Cochrane would have contemplated. But the flow of water into the
O'Higgins
was likely to increase and the likelihood was that the ship would founder before the battle was over. Cochrane himself was undeterred, as he explained to Major Miller: "Well, Major, Valdivia we must take. Sooner than put back, it would be better that we all went to the bottom."

The dramatic simplicity of his decision was greeted by misgivings. Yet he knew that in terms both of strategy and of Chilean morale a spectacular victory was badly needed. The apparent impossibility of what he was about to do was the guarantee of success. It was the familiar argument which he employed throughout his career.

Cool calculation would make it appear that the attempt to take Valdivia is madness. This is one reason why the Spaniards will hardly believe us in earnest, even when we commence. And you will see that a bold onset, and a little perseverance afterwards, will give a complete triumph.

With the schooner and the brig in attendance, he set sail for the Spanish base.
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The stronghold of Valdivia consisted of a well-defended and almost landlocked anchorage, guarded by forts on high ground to either side. As Major Miller and his marines discovered, these forts not only covered the entrance to the great natural basin but were able to enfilade every part of the harbour. Within that harbour basin there was also the fortified island of Manzanera, the centrepiece of an anchorage some four miles long and two miles broad. Deep within the shelter of the anchorage was a smaller bay and two estuaries, that of the Valdivia river leading to the town of Valdivia itself which was fourteen miles upstream.

The only entrance to the great natural harbour was about
1200
yards across, overlooked by Fort Niebla on the eastern height and Fort Amargos on the west. Any ship which attempted to force an entrance would be at the mercy of their artillery and, even beyond that, the harbour was an ideal trap in which the intruder would be helpless before the surrounding guns and troops. To make matters worse, from the attacker's viewpoint, the strong sea and the surf on the coast outside the harbour would make a landing at any other point difficult.

However, Cochrane studied the possibility of a landing outside the harbour itself. The one feasible place was the Aguada del Ingles, a small bay about a mile to the west of the harbour entrance. It was not an easy landing but an attack might be made at slack water. The compensating disadvantage was that it was guarded by the first of the forts on the western side, Fort Ingles. Since it was out of the question to attack through the harbour mouth, Cochrane decided to land at the Aguada del Ingles, storm Fort Ingles, and then advance by taking every fort on the western side of the harbour in succession, except possibly for the strongpoint of Corral Castle which might withstand a siege.

VALDIVIA, FEBRUARY 1820

Before Valdivia appeared on the horizon, Cochrane abandoned the
O'Higgins
as an attacking vessel. She was in no state to lead the assault, though she might be useful as a floating battery later on. Moreover, the element of surprise was essential in the attack and there was too big a risk of the Spaniards recognising the
O'Higgins
from her recent masquerading as the frigate
Prueba.
Still out of sight of the base, Cochrane transferred Major Miller's marines and the troops from Concepcion under Major Beauchef, a French volunteer officer, to the brig
Intrepido
and the schooner
Montezuma.
He accompanied them, in order to lead the attack himself. On
3
Februaiy, flying Spanish colours, the two little ships anchored off the Aguada del Ingles. There was no alternative to putting themselves within range of Fort Ingles itself.

Cochrane ordered all his troops and marines out of sight below decks. The ships' boats in which they would land had been made fast at the seaward side of the brig and schooner, concealed from the Spaniards ashore. A detachment of Spanish troops from Fort Ingles appeared on the shore at the double, their commander ordering the
Montezuma
and her consort to identify themselves. Cochrane had chosen a Spanish-born officer to reply. His story was that the two vessels were part of the squadron which had left Cadiz with the
Prueba.
They had been separated from the others while rounding Cape Horn and their boats had been washed away in the storms.

Cochrane's aim was to play for time, until darkness and a slacker tide would assist the landing and the subsequent attack on Fort Ingles. But the Spaniards were unconvinced by the Cape Horn story. Cochrane's officer then added a request for a pilot. It was the usual thing to do under such circumstances but only a couple of weeks earlier the
O'Higgins
had made a similar request with consequences which were well-known at Valdivia. Those on the ships now heard with some apprehension the firing of alarm guns from the nearer forts and saw Spanish troops moving at the double from the other bastions to reinforce Fort Ingles. At
4
p.m., without further argument, the guns of Fort Ingles opened fire on the two little ships.

The action seemed precipitate, until Cochrane saw what had gone wrong. By an extremely bad stroke of fortune, one of the ship's boats, concealed on the seaward side, had broken loose and drifted into the view of those ashore. The falsity of the Cape Horn story had been embarrassingly revealed. Almost at once, two of the first shots from Fort Ingles smashed into the planking of the
Intrepido's
hull, killing two of the soldiers on the lower deck. There was no chance of retreat and, therefore, no alternative to attacking at once.

Cochrane clambered down into the little gig, in which he was to bob about offshore, directing the landing. Major Miller and his forty-four marines were packed into one of the two remaining launches, and the seamen began to row them ashore as the vanguard of the assault. A further complication for Cochrane's men was that when the
O'Higgins
was holed on the rock, the water had reached the powder magazine, soaking much of the contents. As a result, it was the bayonet rather than the bullet which would decide the assault on Valdivia.

As the first of the launches pulled towards the beach, the Spanish troops of the advance party opened fire. Miller counted seventy-five of them defending the landing place. A heavy swell was still running and, to make matters worse, the sailors found their oars encumbered with masses of floating seaweed. In the opening volleys of musket fire, four or five of the marines were hit. More important still, the Spanish fire was directed at the boat itself. Miller was alarmed to see that his launch was being "perforated with musket balls, and the water rushed in through the holes". Two of the sailors refused to row any closer but when one of them was felled by a marine with a musket butt, the rest took up their oars again. The storm of bullets swept over the lowered heads of Cochrane's men, one musket ball passing through Miller's hat and another hitting the quartermaster of the
O'Higgins
who was acting as coxswain of the launch.

As the craft approached the shore, Miller ordered his men to use some of their precious ammunition against the Spanish defenders, who now found themselves in exposed positions at close range. Once the marines had landed, Miller led them in an immediate bayonet charge up the beach, routing the defenders and giving Cochrane's main force a precarious hold. The
250
Chilean troops were ferried ashore and, as soon as it was dark, Cochrane directed the attack on the first strongpoint, Fort Ingles.

As so often, his plan combined military skill and pantomime farce. The first half of his men advanced through the darkness towards Fort Ingles, firing in the air, cheering, and generally leaving the Spanish in no doubt as to their intentions. A second group, under Ensign Vidal, worked silently round to the inland flank of t
he forts uprooting part of a pall
isade to make a rough bridge across the defensive ditch. These men moved with hardly a sound, any slight noise being drowned by their comrades in front of the fort. Moving softly over the rampart, they formed up among a group of trees and then opened a withering fire on the defenders of the fort from the rear. In the darkness and confusion, the Spanish commander did not wait to contest the issue as the attackers emitted wild Indian yells and charged forward. The garrison of Fort Ingles fled, running into the three hundred Spanish troops drawn up behind the fort and urging them into retreat as well. The Chileans followed hard, bayoneting their enemies, the pursuit being so close that when the gates of Fort Carlos were opened to receive the fugitives, the Chileans poured in after them. Fort Carlos was also abandoned, its garrison joining the general flight, the same bloodstained farce being repeated at Fort Amargos which commanded the western side of the great harbour entrance.

Before dawn, the defenders of the forts on the western side of the harbour had retreated into the Corral Castle, where they might have held out for some time. But morale was not good. They had lost about a hundred men dead and another hundred as prisoners in the rout. Colonel Hoyos, the commander of the castle had taken to the bottle, incoherent with rage and humiliation. Moreover, the castle was ideally placed for an evacuation by water across the harbour and even up the river to the town of Valdivia. A further incentive to this was that Cochrane's troops had captured the Spanish artillery on the height of Fort Chorocomayo and would almost certainly start bombarding the castle as soon as it was daylight. Those who could escape did so, and the remainder of the garrison, including Colonel Hoyos, surrendered to Major Miller. The entire operation had cost Cochrane seven dead and nineteen wounded.

The next day, the
Intrepido
and the
Montezuma
braved the fire of the eastern forts and entered harbour. Cochrane ordered two hundred of his men to embark for an attack across the harbour on the forts still remaining in Spanish hands. At the same time, the
O'Higgins,
by now leaking very badly, appeared off the harbour mouth. This was the final blow to the defence of the eastern half, since there was no equivalent strongpoint to Corral Castle on that side. Assuming that the
O'Higgins
brought fresh reinforcements, the commanders of the eastern forts abandoned them, withdrawing up the river to Valdivia itself. As a matter of fact, the
O'Higgins
brought no reinforcements at all. The ship herself was going down steadily and Cochrane ordered her to be beached at once until repairs could be carried out. None the less, he had calculated that the sight of a
50
-gun warship would break the last resolve of the Spaniards, and in this he had been right.

On
6
February, he embarked his men on the
Montezuma
and the
Intrepido
to follow up his victory by a river attack on Valdivia itself. The
Intrepido
ran aground in the channel and had to be abandoned but it hardly mattered. Before he could reach the town, Cochrane was greeted by a party of men under a flag of truce. The Spanish army and the governor of the town had laid hands on whatever they could carry and had fled. The great military base in the southern half of the continent, the one remaining stronghold within Chile itself from which the Spanish might have launched their great counter-offensive, had been taken at a cost of twenty-six casualties.

The booty which fell into the hands of the Chileans at Valdivia was considerable. Cochrane counted fifty tons of gunpowder,
10,000
cannon shot,
170,000
musket cartridges,
128
pieces of artillery, a "large quantity" of small arms, and the ship
Dolores
which was sold at Valparaiso for
20,000
dollars. It was loot, or prize money, of the most promising proportions.
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