The Pacific commercial advertiser. [volume] (Honolulu, Hawaiian Islands) 1885-1921, 1895-03-09
A MARINE SPECTACLE.
Inspiring Incident Among Men-Of-
War in Callao Harbor.

It was in May, 1881, just after the
| battle of Chorillos had decided the
war between Chile and Peru, that
the flagship Of our Pacific feet hove
| in sight of the sea port OF Oallao.
| In early dawn, as the sun was rising
| behind the acclivitous shore that we
were skirting, I was called by an
| orderly, and went on deck expecting
a beautiful sight, but nothing so
grand as the reality.
The hills of San Lorenzo, about
ten miles away, were glowing into
brightness as a gorgeous increasing
light flushed the gray skies behind
the Andean ranges. Yet the long
mole of the city, the waters Of the
little river Rimac and the huge ships
in the harbor were still dusky and
formless, for upon them fell the
shadow of the mountains. But out
near us, beyond the receding line Of
darkness, waves crested by the fresh
breeze sparkled merrily in the sun,
or burst into little foods of radiant
spray where a solitary porpoise wal
lowed In his early gambols.
AS the sun rose higher, could see
the mass of shipping that crowded
the harbor. Here were ships from
all the foreign fleets in the Pacific.
For days they had lain out of gun
range in the ofing, while on shore
the Chilean forces had pushed near
er and nearer to the capital of hope
less Peru, and at sea the Chilean
feet had drawn line of fire in front
of Callao.
For days the foreign warships had
patiently awaited the inevitable
capitulation, and watched the steel
shells from the Blanc0 Encalsda, the
Almirsnte Cochrane and the famous
little Huascar fly through their long
fat trajectory until, with q scream
and a roar, they crashed through the
walls of their forts, the masonry of
public buildings, or the wooden sides
Of some deserted merchantmen.
Suddenly bugle call hoated over
the water. Another and another
blew their golden notes; a great gun
harbor spread their colors to the
peeping over the black edge of the
mountains.
Our own flag futterea proudly
dlOlI, duu Will Ju0 rear dQulTdl .
broad pennaut at the mizzenmast,
acted to our friends in the harbor as
letter of introduction. An alert
watch officer on the great British
ironclad Shannon reported us. Soon
afterwards the Stars and Stripes
f1oated up to her foretruck, for
ward port was thrown open, puff of
smoke few along the water brim, and
the British commodore thundered
forth to us a national salute.
Then, as the last fash burst from
the black and massive broadside, and
as the last report echoed back from
under the hills of San Lorenzo, her
band on the poop deck struck up our
national jig tune, and "Colunbis,
Happy Land" was hailed across the
waters that softened the staccato air
and made it beautiful.
Hardly had the British band finish
ed this anthem when one of the little
howitzers on our forecastle began
barking away with blank cartridges
at all imaginary foes of Great
Britain, and the salute having been
enthusiastically but decorously blaz.
ed away, the gesticulative italian
who led our musicians, gave a signal.
Then God Save the Queen" sWelled
out from The brazen throats of his
instruments like a solemn, measured
land majestic hymn of praise.
~ The German next turned her at
floa: sad tha eehezs - knErz