Out and back again, still on this glorious and even strengthening west wind, a splendid piece of sailing – so splendid that it reconciled the sombre infantrymen crammed into the two vessels, so that at times they burst into song. They had a likeable, fairly intelligent set of officers to whom the largest plan of Valdivia had been shown, spread out in the gunroom, while the fairly simple plan of attack was explained again and again. Two of the officers knew Valdivia well and they pointed out the store-houses at the end of the mole, with the treasury behind them.
A little before dawn, with Mars rising astern, the galleys in both crafts were heated to something not far from incandescence and the cooks and their mates served out a royal breakfast to all hands, not a crock nor a pot nor a square wooden plate being left unfilled.
By now the mountains were filling a quarter of the sky; a few scattered lights could be seen ashore. Surprise’s and Ringle’s officers were very busy in getting their boats over the side, formed into two trains, ready to be manned. Jack, right forward with his night-glass, saw the Cala Alta clear, and the central fortification looming up behind it. He had already reduced sail: the ships’ people were extraordinarily silent, almost the only sound coming from the breeze (much less inshore) whispering through the rigging and from the water running gently down the side.
With the Cala Alta close on the larboard bow Jack called ‘Let go’ and a kedge was lowered into the sea, bringing the ship up just abreast of the rock. The boats put off one by one: five dark lanterns in each: the seamen ran them beyond the tide mark: the silent lines formed up, glimmering light between each band: Harding, in charge of the detachment of heavily laden seamen, said, ‘Give way,’ and they stepped out, followed by the soldiers.
‘Kedge,’ called Jack. ‘Hands to the braces.’
The frigate’s yards came round, her sheeted sails took the wind, and she moved forward, faster, faster, and the main fortress came abreast of the larboard beam: lightless, blind, except for a single window. He glanced aft: no sign of the marching column yet. ‘Mr.
Beeton,’ he called to the gunner. ‘What do you make it?”
‘A trifle above five hundred yards, sir.’
‘Try a sighter, mid-high.’
‘Aye-aye, sir: mid-high it is.’ And the gunner’s voice was cut off by the bellow of his gun and the shriek of the recoiling carriage. The wind swept the smoke forward and all eyes strained to see the impact. Nothing could the most eager make out in the darkness, but almost at once the windows came to life, row after row of lamp-lit squares.
‘Fire as they bear,’ said Jack, still in little more than an undertone: and louder, ‘A rolling fire, there.’
This was not a time for broadsides, nor yet for the regular fore to aft of target practice: ‘I do not wish to strain the ship’s timbers,’ he said in a much louder voice to the Chileans behind him. And louder still. ‘ ‘Vast firing – Mr. Wells,’ – to his attendant midshipman – ‘tell the officers commanding the guns that I am going to move up a hundred yards or so.’ By this time the fort was replying with a crackle of musketry and the odd bullet passed overhead.
‘Mr. Daniel,’ he called, ‘move her up, if you please, until we can see the gate-house and the mole.’ Then to the guncrews, ‘Fire at will.’
Now there were as many as three great flashes, hungry darts of flame, at once, lighting the wall; and it was clear that the fire was having its effect – two windows beaten into one, fallen masonry, a small blaze inside a room, the whole outer wall pock-marked. The lit windows began to move aft, the guns still firing briskly: but they had not gone beyond Surprise’s mizzen mast before a violent explosion shook the back of the fortress, followed by musket-fire and then three more explosions, even deeper.
The gate-house came in sight, well in sight, and now the Surprise, swinging slightly to larboard, could send a cross-fire into the shattered centre. This she did, while on the far side the mining and the musketry increased until the noise reverberating from the mountains behind the town was perfectly shocking.
‘One would say a heavy artillery battle,’ said Colonel Valdes.
‘Mr. Wells,’ called Jack, ‘run and tell them not to touch that God-damned gate-house.’
Now the musketry from the fort diminished: and the mining increased.
‘It is unbelievable that they should have carried all that powder,’ observed Stephen.
‘Any minute now,’ said Jack. ‘Mr. Daniel, lay me for the mole, just abaft those two smacks, the instant that door opens, and stand by to make her fast. Mr. Somers – Mr. Somers there: let the armourer and his mates serve out cutlasses, pistols, boarding axes . . .’
A great roar all along the deck drowned his last words. The gate-house doors burst open and a dense crowd of men rushed out, trampling one another and racing along the mole.
‘Reload with grape,’ called Jack, and they had half a dozen rounds before the ship ground against the dolphin of the mole.
‘Starboard watch make fast fore and aft. Larboard, charge.’
By this time the soldiers behind the fort had seen the flying garrison on the mole and they joined the pursuers. The seamen flung down their heavy crowbars and sledgehammers and caught up with wonderful speed. ‘Surely,’ gasped Stephen, as he ran, ‘it is very strange that the zeal of the pursuers should be greater than that of the prey?’
Strange or not, it was true: the fugitives had no sooner reached the next fort than those who were not killed had to run again, often being caught and knocked down. And so it went, fort after fort, until the miserable remnant ran clean away up into the town, leaving the entire port and all its naval equipment to the victors’ discretion.
In this case the victors showed no discretion whatsoever. Some of the Chilean soldiers knew the port well, having worked there, and they showed their allies a perfectly extraordinary treasure of rope, sailcloth, blocks, firearms great and small, timber, powder, ammunition, medicine-chests, and, what pleased them even more, the treasury. It had armoured doors, of course: but the seamen, running – running – back for some of their heavier tools, made short work of armoured doors, or the pillars that supported them.
Inside there were four large chests of silver and a moderate chest of gold: curiously enough they were only closed with a hasp, and on seeing their contents a soldier who had been in the Surprise said they had all risked their lives to gain this wealth and that in his opinion it should be shared out equally at once: now, now, equally and at once. His opinion was supported by several men there, but O’Higgins said, ‘A fig for your opinion,’
and shot him dead.
With so much death in the forts, all along the mole and in the lesser fortifications this made no great impression; but it did restore order, and Captain Aubrey suggested to the Supreme Director that the right and natural place for all these things was Valparaiso, to be conveyed in the Surprise as far as the chests were concerned, while the huge accumulation of marine stores lying outside the magazines, lofts and victualling buildings should travel in the two large smacks lying just beyond the frigate outside the mole.
Once the treasure-chests had been moved across the yard on rollers (cut from new topmasts) to the Surprise and taken aboard by those ingenious cranes improvised by seamen, zeal began to flag. People (particularly soldiers) looked at the massive cables with distaste and showed a disposition to creep away. Stephen, however, asked Jack to have the head of a barrel containing Chilean aguardiente taken off for Dr. Jacob, and he called upon all hands, in both necessary languages, to form in lines and to advance in turn. This they did; and each man passing Jacob was given a cup from the barrel; then
moving on to Stephen he received a very considerable dose of prime coca, with its usual accompaniments.
Within a remarkably short space of time (so long as time in the ordinary sense still existed in their circumstances and their very recent, very violent past) the atmosphere changed entirely: strength returned, and good humour with it. The daunting heaps lessened, dwindled, vanished entirely into the smacks, amicably chartered with the help of the golden chest; and the cobbles lay bare under the indifferent moon.
‘Cousin,’ said Colonel Valdes, embracing him, and they standing alone in the five-acre yard, ‘that was a glorious victory: a most glorious victory.’
Interchapter
‘My dear Christine, if you will allow so free an expression,’ wrote Stephen Maturin, ‘we won a famous victory in Val-divia not long since, when Captain Aubrey and his seamen, with General O’Higgins and his soldiers, having destroyed the main fortress, drove the royalists out of Valdivia, secured their immense stock of naval stores and their treasure, returning in triumph to Valparaiso, to rejoicing, cheering crowds, to fireworks and music, three separate bull-fights, and of course to dancing. None of our people was killed; their few wounds are healing well; and all hands are delightfully elated, at least in part because of their coming wealth when the prize-money from the captured treasure is shared out. I too was elated with them – happiness is charmingly contagious – and I celebrated the occasion by indulging myself in an emerald. As you may know, my valued friend and colleague Amos Jacob is descended from a family of merchants dealing in precious stones: he understands and loves them, and like many of his calling he has acquaintances or connexions in Golconda and other places where gems are found, including Muso in the Andes, no very great way from here, so justly renowned for its emeralds. I therefore desired him to procure me a specimen: and here it is.’ He turned the oblong stone in his hand: a splendid wealth of green, but finest of all from its perfect face. ‘I shall wrap it in jewellers’ cotton wool, enclose it in a packet for Sir Joseph that must leave this evening and beg you to accept it as a small token of my esteem – a trifling return for Ardea goliath.’