On the 22nd of December my flag was hoisted on board the O’Higgins, after which the greatest despatch was used to get the squadron ready for sea. Anxious to avoid delay, on the 16th of January I sailed with four ships only, the O’Higgins, San Martin, Lautaro, and Chacabuco; leaving Admiral Blanco to follow with the Gaharino, Aracauno, and Puyrredon. A mutiny having broken out on board the Chacabuco, it became necessary to enter Coquimbo, where the leading mutineers were landed, tried, and punished.
I shall here narrate an incident which occurred on our departure. Lady Cochrane, with her children, had returned from Santiago to Valparaiso, to take leave of me on embarkation. She had just gone ashore, and the last gun had been fired to summon all hands on board, when, hearing a loud hurrah near the house where she resided, she went to the window, and saw our little boy—now Lord Cochrane, but then scarcely more than five years old—mounted on the shoulders of my flag-lieutenant, waving his tiny cap over the heads of the people, and crying out with all his might, "Viva la patria!" the mob being in a frenzied state of excitement.
The child had slipped out of Lady Cochrane’s house with the officer, insisting on being carried to his father; with which request the lieutenant, nothing loth, complied. To the horror of Lady Cochrane, she saw her boy hurried down to the beach amidst the shouts of the multitude, and, before she could interfere, placed in a boat and rowed off to the flag-ship, which was at the time under weigh, so that he could not be sent ashore again; there being no alternative but to take him with us, though without clothes—which were afterwards made for him by the sailors—and with no other attendance save that which their rough but kindly natures could administer.