In April, 1865, the first Brazilian naval division ascended the river, towards Corrientes. The Brazilian Admiral, Tamandaré, did not come with them, being occupied in Buenos Ayres, as was notorious, in imitating the conduct of Nelson at Naples, and of Marc Antony at Alexandria. The fleet was under the command of Commandante Gomensoro, who was soon afterwards superseded by Vice-Admiral Barroso.
The fleet anchored almost in sight of Corrientes, on the Chaco, or western bank. It consisted of nine steamers, all sea-going. They were the Amazonas (flag-ship), a heavy paddle-ship, of six guns; the Jequitinhonha, Belmonte, Mearim, and Beberibe, each of eight guns; the Paranahyba, of six guns; Iparanga, seven; Iguatème, of five, and the Araguay, of three guns, fifty-nine in all.
Lopez, the President and absolute Dictator of Paraguay, determined to try to capture this fleet.
His soldiers all were devoted to him, and those of the higher classes who were not so, he kept under, by a system of terrorism worthy of his father’s predecessor, Dr. Francia. Anything which he determined should be done had to be done, or the offender suffered imprisonment and torture, followed by death. Driven in this way by fear, his officers accomplished wonderful things. He seldom conferred upon any one a higher rank than that of Captain, and officers of that grade frequently commanded regiments and brigades. The men were brave and patient, and satisfied with the scantiest food and clothing. They despised the Brazilians, many of whom were negroes or mulattoes, calling them “cambas” and “macacos”—niggers and monkeys. Some of the most wonderful instances of daring, devotion, and calm courage were exhibited by these Indians during this long war; and when it closed, nearly all the men in the country, and many of the boys, were dead, killed in battle.
As an instance of their heroic devotion we may mention that of a Paraguayan soldier, solitary and alone, and surrounded by overwhelming numbers of armed enemies. Being called upon to surrender, he coolly replied, “No tengo orden”—I have no orders—and continued to fight until pinned to the ground by a dozen bayonets. Nor was this by any means a solitary case.
Having determined to try to capture the Brazilian vessels, Lopez adopted in part a plan formed by an English Chief Engineer in his fleet. This man had formerly served in the Brazilian Navy, and understood them thoroughly.
Lopez’ vessels were to run down with the current and reach the Brazilian squadron just at daylight. Each Paraguayan vessel was to select her antagonist, run at her, and board, with plenty of men, armed with their favorite swords and knives.
Lopez, who was personally a coward, and who never took part in any action himself, thought he had great military genius, and would interfere upon this occasion, as upon many others. The plan of Watts, the Englishman, would have caught the Brazilians asleep, and with their fires banked, so that they could not move.
Lopez gave instructions for his vessels to run past the Brazilians, then turn, come up stream, and board. He detailed eight hundred men, in addition to the crews of the vessels, as boarders. These he harangued, and told them to go and bring him back the fleet and the prisoners of the “Cambas.” “No!” cried the Paraguayans, in reply, “What do we want with prisoners? We will kill them all.”
Lopez smiled, distributed cigars, their one great luxury, and sent them away.