Over went the hen-coops and empty casks; the ship was brought to, and a boat lowered. It was high time, for a shark had approached the swimmer, who defended himself with remarkable courage and presence of mind, striking out with his fists at his voracious pursuer. So unequal a combat could not last long, and the lookers-on thought him lost, for the shark had already seized his leg, when the boat came up; a rain of blows from oars and boat-hooks forced the monster to let go his hold, and the sailor was snatched, it might truly be said, from the jaws of death. His wounds, though deep, were not dangerous, and in a few weeks he was convalescent. Without other incident worthy of note, Dr Tschudi arrived in the bay of Callao. There the first news he heard was that the Chilians had effected a landing, taken Lima by storm, and were then besieging Callao. This magnificent fort, the last place in South America that had held out for the Spaniards, and which General Rodil defended for nearly eighteen months against the patriots, had since been in great measure dismantled, and three-fourths of the guns sold. Those that remained were now wretchedly served by the Peruvians, whilst the fire of the besiegers, on the other hand, did considerable damage. The siege, however, was pushed nothing like so vigorously as it had been by the patriots. Both the land and sea forces were too small. To the latter the Peruvians had unfortunately no fleet to oppose. Several men-of-war had been treacherously taken from them by the Chilians in time of peace, and the only two remaining were sunk upon the approach of the enemy.
"One Sunday afternoon," says Dr Tschudi, "the Chilian brig-of-war, Colocolo, sailed close in under the walls of the fort, and threw in a few balls. The batteries immediately returned the fire with every gun they could bring to bear; but all their shots went too high, and fell amongst the merchantmen and other neutral vessels. Meanwhile the Colocolo sailed to and fro in derision of the batteries. At last the French commodore, seeing the danger of the merchant ships, sent a boat to the fort, menacing them with a broadside if they did not instantly cease firing. This the garrison were compelled to do, and to submit patiently to the insults of the Chilians. Another instance of the great prejudice which the vicinity of neutral shipping may be to besieged or besiegers, was witnessed on the night of the 5th November 1820, in the bay of Callao, when Lord Cochrane and Captain Guise, with a hundred and fifty men, boarded the Spanish forty-four gun corvette Esmeralda. Between the Esmeralda and the fort lay a North American frigate, the Macedonia, which completely hindered the castle from covering the corvette with its guns. So enraged were the garrison at this, that the next morning an officer of the Macedonia was murdered with his whole boat's crew, the very instant they set foot on shore."
We shall not accompany Dr Tschudi through his "fragment of the modern history of Peru;" for although lucid and interesting, it might become less so in the compressed form which we should necessarily have to adopt. We find at one time six self-styled presidents of Peru – each with his share of partizans, more or less numerous, and with a force at his command varying from one to five thousand men – oppressing the people, levying contributions, shooting and banishing the adherents of his five rivals. Let us examine the probable causes of such a state of things, of the revolutions and rebellions which have now lasted for twenty years – since the birth of the republic, in fact – and which must finally, if a check be not put to them, bring about the depopulation and total ruin of Peru. These causes Dr Tschudi finds in the want of honour and common honesty exhibited by the majority of the Peruvian officers. With the army all the revolutions have begun. As soon as an officer reaches the rank of colonel, and if he can only reckon upon the adherence of some fifteen hundred or two thousand soldiers, he begins to think of deposing the president and ruling in his stead. In so doing, he is actuated by avarice rather than by ambition. During their short-lived power these dictators levy enormous contributions, of which they pocket the greater part, and let the soldiers want. After a while they abandon the helm of government, either voluntarily or by compulsion, and take with them their ill-gotten wealth. When the chiefs set such examples, it cannot be wondered at if, amongst their inferiors, insubordination and mutiny are the order of the day. These, however, are most prevalent amongst the subaltern officers, scarcely ever originating with the soldiers, although their treatment, we are informed, is inhumanly cruel, and their privations and sufferings of the severest. There appears to be a great similarity in character between the Peruvian infantry and the Spanish troops of the present day; although the former are not of Spanish descent, but consist chiefly of Indians from the interior and mountainous districts of Peru. Dr Tschudi describes them as obedient, willing, and courageous; unparalleled in their endurance of hunger and fatigue, capable of sustaining for several days together marches of fourteen or sixteen leagues. The officers, however, must be good, or the men are useless in the field. If not well led, they throw away their arms and run, and there is no possibility of rallying them. Moreover, no retrograde movement must be made, although it be merely as a manœuvre – the Indians looking upon it as a signal for flight. The cavalry, for the most part well mounted, is worthless. It consists of negroes – a race rarely remarkable for courage. As cruel as they are cowardly, a defeated foe meets with barbarous treatment at their hands.
With every Peruvian army march nearly as many women as it comprises men. Unpalatable as such a following would be to European commanders, it is encouraged and deemed indispensable by Peruvian generals. The Indian women, as enduring and hardy as their husbands, set out two or three hours before the troops, and precede them by about the same time at the halting place. They immediately collect wood for fires, and prepare the rations, which they carry with them, for their husbands, sons, and brothers. Without them, in the more desolate and mountainous districts, the soldiers would sometimes risk starvation. They are no impediment to the rapid march of a column, which they, on the contrary, accelerate, by saving the men trouble, and affording them more time for repose. During a battle they remain in the vicinity of the troops, but far enough off not to impede their movements; the fight over, they seek out the wounded and take care of them. The lot of these poor women, who go by the name of rabonas, is any thing but an enviable one; for besides their many privations and hardships, they meet with much ill usage at the hands of the soldiery, to which, however, they submit with incredible patience.
The manner in which most of the officers treat the soldiers is perfectly inhuman, and the slightest offences meet with terrible chastisement. Every officer has a right, at least in war time, to inflict, without a court-martial, any punishment he pleases. Some of the chiefs are celebrated for the refinement of their cruelties; and many soldiers prefer death to serving under them. During General Gamarra's campaign against the Bolivians in 1842, several score of soldiers sprang one day from the bridge of Oroya, to seek death in the torrent that flows beneath it. With the scornful cry of "Adios, capitan!" they took the fatal leap, and the next instant lay mangled and expiring upon the rocks through which the stream forces its way. "I myself have witnessed," continues Dr Tschudi, "how soldiers who on the march were unable to keep up with the column, were shot dead upon the spot. On the road from Tarma to Jauja, a distance of nine leagues, I passed seven Indians who had thus lost their lives. It is true that the commandant of that battalion, an officer whose sword was as yet unstained with any blood save that of his own men, was accustomed to call out when he saw a soldier straggling from fatigue – 'pegale un tiro!' Shoot him down! And the order was forthwith obeyed." When the troops reach the halting-place, and the rabonas learn the fate of their sons or husbands, they mournfully retrace their weary footsteps, and amidst tears and lamentations dig a last resting place for these victims of military tyranny.
The sick are scarcely better treated. When they can no longer drag themselves along, they are placed upon mules, and, through the severest cold or most burning heat, are driven after the army. When they die, which is most frequently the case, they are dropped at the next village, to be buried by the alcalde.
"The major of a squadron of light cavalry," says our traveller, "once asked me, during my stay at Tarma in the year 1842, to take charge for a few days of his sick men. Of one hundred and twenty soldiers composing the squadron, sixty-eight lay huddled together in a damp dark hole, ill of the scarlet fever. Fourteen more were suffering from the effects of punishment. What a horrible sight they presented! Their backs were nearly bare of flesh and covered with the most frightful wounds. A mutiny had taken place, and the major had shot six men, and caused eighteen others to receive from one hundred to three hundred lashes, with broad thongs of tapir hide – a punishment so severe, that some
