Chapter Five.
The Battle between the Esmeralda and the Huascar.
On the following morning, shortly after daybreak, Rebolledo Williams began his preparations for a further bombardment of Iquique; but, just as he was on the point of opening fire, the Blanco Encalada’s yeoman of signals presented himself with a report that the Chilian gunboat Magellanes—a vessel of 772 tons displacement and of eleven knots speed—had just made her appearance in the bay, coming up from the southward, and flying the signal, “Have important news to communicate.” The admiral therefore ordered operations to be suspended for the moment, and waited impatiently for the captain of the Magellanes to come aboard and make his report. The little vessel was evidently in a hurry, for she steamed in at full speed, and did not bring up until close alongside the flagship. The anchor then splashed down to the accompaniment of a roar of chain-cable through the hawse-pipe the captain’s gig was lowered away; and a few minutes later that individual was being pulled across the short space of water between his own ship and the Blanco Encalada.
Captain Simpson was closeted for over an hour with his admiral; at the end of which time the signal was made for the whole fleet to heave short in readiness for an early departure. The Magellanes was also ordered to accompany the squadron. As the ships were to go northward at top speed it was impossible to take the Esmeralda along as well, in consequence of her phenomenally low rate of speed. But as she herself would be at the mercy of almost any hostile ship that might happen to heave in sight while the main body of the fleet was absent, it was decided to leave with her the gunboat Covadonga; and these two vessels were ordered to continue the blockade of the port to the best of their ability.
The news brought by the Magellanes very soon filtered through the fleet, and was to the effect that her skipper had been sent from Valparaiso to inform the admiral that the Peruvian President Prado intended to leave Callao, on the night of May 16, for Arica, in the paddle-transport Oroya; and that he was to be accompanied by the Independencia, Huascar, Chalaco, and Limena. Admiral Williams was therefore ordered to abandon the blockade of Iquique, and, proceeding northward immediately, was to endeavour to intercept the squadron and, by forcing a fleet action, to destroy it, and so deal a fatal blow at the naval power of Peru. Simpson also reported that while on his way to join the flag he had fallen in, off the mouth of the river Loa, with the Peruvian warships Union and Pilcomayo, and that he had fought a running action of over two hours with them; his final escape being entirely due to his superior speed; as either of the Peruvian vessels would alone have been more than a match for his own little ship.
This news occasioned the utmost bustle and activity among the Chilians. Every man was most eager to be off, for the prospect of a decisive action appealed irresistibly to all, both officers and men.
Jim Douglas, however, was found by the ship’s surgeon to be suffering from a very severe attack of prostration, which had doubtless been brought on by his recent experiences ashore at Iquique. Sorely against his will, he was removed aboard the little Esmeralda, together with a number of other sick men, the admiral having decided that since he was almost certain to be obliged to fight a severe battle, he would take with him no men save such as were absolutely sound.
Amid the commiseration of his friends, among whom was, of course, Terence O’Meara, Jim, together with other sick men from the flagship’s crew, was put into a steam-launch and conveyed to the gunboat, from the deck of which he watched, half an hour later, while comfortably seated in a deck-chair, the departure of the Chilian squadron, consisting of the Blanco Encalada, Almirante Cochrane, O’Higgins, Chacabuco, Magellanes, and Abtao, the last-named being filled with combustibles so that she might serve, if necessary, as a fire-ship.
The poor lad felt very keenly disappointed at being unable to accompany the fleet and take part in the action which everybody confidently looked forward to as being inevitable; but, had he only known it, fortune was at that moment about to smile on him, for Rebolledo Williams did not catch a glimpse of the Peruvians, while the Esmeralda and Covadonga were presently to take part in a fight which has since become world-famous, by reason of the dauntless bravery which was exhibited by the Chilians in the face of overwhelming odds.
Commander Arturo Prat, the captain of the Esmeralda, was at this time only thirty-one years of age, but was the senior officer of the two ships; the Covadonga was commanded by Carlos Condell, whose name has also passed into history. As has been said, Admiral Williams, having kept too close in under the land, altogether missed the Peruvian fleet, which escorted President Prado safely into Arica. The Huascar, Captain Grau, and the Independencia, Captain J.G. Moore, thereupon proceeded southward in the hope of falling in with some of the Chilian ships, and, having looked into Pisagua to make sure that the squadron of Rebolledo Williams was not lurking there, went on again toward Iquique, off which port they appeared at daybreak on the morning of May 21.
Jim, having had nearly a week in which to recover from his attack of prostration, was by this time quite himself again; and it was with keen satisfaction that he reported himself to the commander as fit for duty, upon the appearance of the two Peruvian warships. The lion-hearted captain, when he saw the enormous superiority of the vessels opposed to him, recognised at once that he would have no chance in the coming encounter; but, quite undaunted, prepared at once for action, and signalled to the Covadonga to do the same. Both gunboats were fortunately under steam at the time, although the little Esmeralda’s boilers were in such a shocking condition that she could muster only sufficient power to move herself as fast as a man could walk. In a few minutes both vessels were as completely prepared for action as it was possible for them to be, and, calling aft his crew, many of whom were invalids, Prat made a short speech to them, which exhibited the lion courage of the man who has been called “the hero of Chili.” He said:
“Children, the odds are against us, but our flag has thus far never been lowered in the presence of the enemy, and I hope that it will not be to-day. As long as I live that flag shall fly in its place; and if I die, my officers will know how to do their duty.”
The men were then dismissed to their quarters, and almost immediately afterwards—at eight o’clock in the morning—the Huascar fired the first shot, which fell right between the two Chilian ships, and then began one of the most memorable sea-fights that have ever been recorded in history. The Chilians at once replied with every available gun, and the action instantly became fierce, the Huascar singling out the Esmeralda as her antagonist, while the Covadonga was attacked by the Independencia.
The Peruvian ironclads steamed slowly along toward their prey, the Huascar firing her two 10-inch turret-guns as she came, but she was somewhat handicapped by the circumstance that there was great risk of her shot striking the town, which was, of course, still in Peruvian hands. But each of these shells weighed as much as 300 pounds; and whenever they hit the unfortunate sloop at which they were aimed, the effect was terrible. One of them pierced her thin side, and penetrating to the engine-room, burst there, killing every one of the engineers, and partially disabling the crazy engines. Arturo Prat, however, immediately detached from among the invalids a squad of men to do duty in the engine-room, and redoubled his fire upon his opponent, keeping up such a furious fusillade with his small-arms that Captain Grau of the Huascar mistook it for machine-gun fire; and so excellent was the aim of the marksmen that it destroyed the Peruvians who were working the unprotected guns, and prevented them from being replaced.
Jim was here, there, and everywhere, encouraging and cheering on his men, both with voice and example; but the odds were most fearfully against the Chilians. Shot fell upon the unfortunate Esmeralda like hail, and one of them shivered Douglas’s sword in his hand as he waved it above his head. The undaunted crew of the sloop were too fully occupied with the work of fighting the Huascar to take any notice of what was happening in the town behind them, and suddenly a shower of shells began to hurtle over the devoted craft from shoreward. The Peruvians there had dragged down to the beach a battery of field-pieces, with which they now opened a galling fire upon the Esmeralda. Her present berth at once became untenable, for she had not enough men left to work the guns on both broadsides, and Commander Prat at once rang down to his engine-room for “full speed ahead,” the anchor having been raised at the beginning of the action; and the doomed vessel’s engines began the last revolutions that they were ever to make.
As soon as she was seen to be slowly steaming farther out into the bay, the captain of the Huascar determined to try to ram his opponent, and thus end the fight at once. He accordingly steamed for the Esmeralda at a speed of about eight knots, steering north-east, while the sloop was steering due north but was only just moving through the water.
Douglas at once divined the intention of the Peruvian and shouted a warning to Prat, who had left the bridge for a few moments in order to assist with the repairing of a gun, the mechanism of which had become jammed, and the gallant commander immediately sprang to his bridge-telegraph, and rang for all the steam his boilers could give him. But the engineers were already getting every possible ounce of work out of the crazy machinery, and the sloop’s speed could not be increased! For two dreadful minutes the combatants paused, as if by mutual consent, while the Huascar rushed onward, like some fearful sea-monster, at its prey.
But Captain Grau stopped his engines just a few seconds too soon, and the Esmeralda was within an ace of scraping clear. She was nearly past—only a few yards more and she would be in safety—but her wretched engines chose just that precise moment to break down, and the sloop at once lost her way. The next second the Peruvian monitor struck her with a concussion that threw every man to the deck; but the blow was fortunately a glancing one, and the Huascar rubbed harmlessly along the sides of the sloop, coming to a standstill alongside her in consequence of the entanglement of some raised port-shutters.
Now was the Chilian’s last opportunity to snatch success out of the jaws of failure, and Captain Prat immediately seized it.
Waving his sword above his head, he shouted: “Boarders, away! Follow me all who are able!” And he sprang over the side of his ship on to the decks of the Huascar.
Douglas was the second man aboard the Peruvian monitor, and he raced along her deck, followed by only twelve men, in the wake of his gallant commander. The Peruvians were not prepared for the attack, as they had quite expected to sink the little sloop with the first blow of the Huascar’s ram; but they quickly recovered from their surprise and swarmed out of the turret, and up from below, charging furiously upon the boarders, with drawn cutlasses and revolvers. Scarcely a man, it appeared, had been touched aboard the Peruvian, owing to the great thickness of her armour-plating, and her crew, being practically intact, brought an overwhelming force to bear upon the handful of invaders, who were instantly surrounded by their enemies.
There were but fourteen of them, all told, against quite a hundred of the Huascar’s people, but they fought like the heroes they were, and repeatedly charged home with their cutlasses, into the thick of the foe. Prat, still at the head of his men, laid about him with his red-stained sword, and encouraged them, both by voice and example, in the which he was ably seconded by Douglas, who took upon himself the task of guarding his captain’s rear. Cut and thrust, cut and thrust, the little band raged at the Peruvians; and for a few seconds it really seemed as though their desperate valour would prevail. But, alas, they had all long since emptied their revolvers, and only their blades remained to them, many of which had been broken by the delivery and warding of furious blows, so that many of the men were obliged to use their bare fists, or their pistols held club-wise.
Such an unequal conflict could not long endure; the Chilians were falling, man after man, but all fighting desperately to the very last. Then, from somewhere up aloft, rifle-bullets began to hurtle among them, and then the end was very near. Looking upward, Douglas saw that a number of Peruvians, armed with rifles, had clambered up on the roof of the turret, and up into the Huascar’s low fighting-tops, and were firing directly downward into them.
It was one of these bullets that put an end to the career of the gallant Chilian commander. He and Jim were fighting, shoulder to shoulder, and, at the head of only five men, were endeavouring to cut a way through their foes in order to regain their own ship. Indeed, their desperate valour had nearly carried them through when Prat, suddenly dropping his reeking sword, put both hands up to his face, and, after swaying on his feet for a second, fell into Jim’s arms. His face, as Douglas saw when the dead hands fell away, was literally shot to pieces by at least half a dozen bullets which must have struck simultaneously. Nothing could be done for the gallant sailor, for he must have died instantaneously, so Jim allowed him to sink gently to the deck, and took up his own defence again. There were only two men now left, beside himself, and escape seemed absolutely hopeless, when a volley of rifle-bullets plumped into the circle of Peruvians, evidently fired by some of the few remaining members of the sloop’s crew. Taken by surprise, the Peruvians scattered for a moment; and Jim, with the two Chilian seamen, took advantage of the opening and dashed through the crowd, gaining the Huascar’s side in safety. But to his horror he found that the two ships had drifted apart, and that the Esmeralda was even now steaming away, at a very slow speed, certainly, but still far beyond the reach of the three deserted men on the Huascar!
Jim took one hasty look round and then, putting his hands above his head, plunged downward into the sea, and began to strike out after his own ship. A few bullets splashed harmlessly into the water alongside him, and then the Peruvians turned their attention to other and larger prey. The Huascar went ahead once more and, taking a wide circle, presented her stem once more at the unfortunate Esmeralda. Jim then recognised that the sloop was doomed, and that it would be of no use for him to strive to regain her. It would be better to endeavour to reach the Covadonga, should she still be afloat, and he looked round to see whether he could see her.
To his great surprise, even as he was looking for her, he heard a shout and saw the gunboat heading directly for him, with the Independencia in hot pursuit. Carlos Condell, seeing the fate of his consort, and realising that he was hopelessly outmatched, had evidently determined to retreat while his engines were still intact; and the Covadonga was now heading out of the bay at full speed to the southward.
For a moment Douglas thought that the ship would run over him, but a second glance showed him that it was evidently Condell’s intention to try to pick him up. As the Covadonga approached, her captain sent his engines hard astern, checking the vessel’s speed sufficiently to allow of Jim being picked up by a rope which, already noosed, was cleverly thrown to him.
Although the lad thought that his body must certainly be torn in half by the strain upon the rope, he was safely hauled aboard and deposited on deck, whereupon Captain Condell again sent his engines ahead at full speed and resumed his flight. Jim was soon upon his feet again, and almost before he had fully recovered his breath an officer came up to him to tell him that Commander Condell wished to see him, in order to receive a report from him as to what had, up to now, occurred aboard the Esmeralda. Jim therefore made his way to the little conning-tower where Carlos Condell was directing the fighting of his ship; but before he had time to enter he saw the final act in the fight between the Huascar and the Esmeralda.
The Peruvian had dashed straight at the sloop and, stopping his engines when only eighty feet away from her, had struck her fairly on the starboard broadside, piercing a huge hole in her side, through which the water poured in cataracts. That finished the fight; and at ten minutes after twelve o’clock mid-day the gallant little Esmeralda, with her colours still flying, and guns still firing, plunged downward out of sight into the deep blue waters of Iquique bay, having fought a most heroic battle against overwhelming odds.
Jim was not long in making his report to Captain Condell, and with a glance at the Independencia, which was hard upon the Covadonga’s heels, firing as she came, he now ran down below to change into dry clothes and equip himself with another sword and revolver; having, of course, lost his own when he jumped into the sea.
The Independencia was a slightly faster craft than the Covadonga, but she drew a good deal more water; and Captain Condell, with masterly skill, availed himself of this circumstance to the full, by running across shoals over which the Peruvian ship dared not follow him, and by keeping quite close in to the shore where she could not approach. Luckily, too, the Independencia’s gunners were raw, and found great difficulty in hitting the little gunboat; but whenever they did the execution on board the small craft was tremendous, by reason of the huge size of the projectiles.
At last, finding that he could not hit the Covadonga in a vital spot, or bring her to a standstill, Captain Moore, the Peruvian captain, determined to risk his own ship in an endeavour to bring the running fight to a close. The combatants were now off Punto Gruesos, where the shore was steeper, and the water consequently of greater depth, and Moore decided to ram his opponent. He gradually edged closer and closer to the Covadonga—continually firing his heavy guns, to which the Chilian replied with a withering small-arm fire—until he was separated by only about a cable’s-length from the gunboat.
He now suddenly changed his course from south to south-south-east and steered straight for the Covadonga, which was within a hundred yards of the beach, and had herself just touched a rock in her passage over it. But alas for the Peruvian, she missed her blow, and struck immediately upon the rock over which the gunboat had a moment before passed, becoming immovably fixed there.
“Now,” roared Condell to the helmsman, “up with the helm, and we will go about and destroy that fellow completely. Señor Douglas,” he continued, to Jim, “kindly go down and superintend the working of that forward 70-pounder gun; I am told that the lieutenant in charge has been killed by the Independencia’s last shot.”
Jim ran off, as requested, and took charge of the weapon, while the Covadonga, describing a wide curve, wheeled round until she presented her bow to the wrecked Peruvian, and at a distance of about half a mile, began to plump shell right into her stern. Jim made excellent practice with the gun, and put shot after shot into the hapless vessel, each of which, entering her stern, passed through the whole length of the ship, finally setting her on fire in several places. Then, the Independencia’s hull having very nearly filled with water, she fell over on her side and became a complete wreck. Jim, however, still continued his firing until a man on board the Peruvian crawled aft and, hauling down the colours, hoisted a white flag in its place. The Covadonga then, and only then, ceased firing.
But unfortunately she could not enjoy the fruits of her victory, for, at the very moment when the Peruvian surrendered, the Huascar, having picked up the survivors of the Esmeralda’s crew, made her appearance beyond the western end of the island which forms the south side of the bay of Iquique. The gunboat was, of course, no match for the monitor; and Condell was therefore reluctantly compelled to abandon the Independencia and seek his own safety in flight to the southward.
Jim therefore fired a gun in defiance at the Huascar, which immediately took up the pursuit, and the Covadonga steamed away toward Antofagasta, which she reached on the following day, having run the Huascar out of sight; that ship being unable to steam very fast in consequence of an injury to her bow, caused by the ramming of the Esmeralda.