THE GREAT EARTHQUAKE OE '68. 



CAPT. L. G. BILLINGS, U.S.N. 



At the close of our civil war I was or- 

 dered to duty on board the U. S. S. Wa- 

 teree, then attached to the Pacific squadron, 

 and joined her at Callao, Peru, just in 

 time to witness the bombardment of that 

 city by the Spanish fleet. In view of our 

 late unpleasantness with Spain, I trust I 

 may digress so far as to give a little inci- 

 dent which occurred there as illustrating 

 the unexpected perils that frequently befall 

 those "who go down to the sea in ships," 

 even in piping times of peace. 



The Spanish squadron had been blockad- 

 ing the coast some time, and had nearly 

 exhausted its coal supply ; so when on the 

 morning of the fight, the Wateree, having 

 been assigned bv our admiral as guard ship 

 of the American fleet, , discovered a barge 

 loaded with fine, pressed blocks of bitu- 

 minous coal, adrift in the harbor, the prize 

 was too valuable to be neglected. Accord- 

 ingly, a line was made fast and for some 

 time we towed the barge about. As the 

 fight grew furious the barge became an im- 

 pediment. Our captain determined to un- 

 load the coal into an empty bunker and 

 cut the barge adrift. 



The many hands of a man-o'-war crew 

 made short work of the transfer, and soon 

 the glowing furnaces were being replen- 

 ished with our new acquisition. As the 

 firemen commenced breaking the square 

 lumps, to even off the fires, to their horror 

 they found in one of the first broken a 

 6-pound shell. Throwing open the furnace 

 doors, they saw several more snugly bedded 

 in the coals. Needless to say, there was 

 a grand rush on deck, as the panic-stricken 

 stokers realized only too well that the ex- 

 plosion of any one of the shells meant hor- 

 rible death, either by scalding steam or boil- 

 ing water. Fortunately, among our junior 

 officers was a ne'er-do-weel assistant engi- 

 neer, who was always in trouble, and even 

 then was under arrest for some infraction 

 of the regulations. He was sitting near 

 the engine room hatch when the frightened 

 crowd dashed by him. Without waiting to 

 ask questions he forced himself through 

 them to the fire room. A glance through 

 the still open doors disclosed the trouble. 

 Instantly he raked the dangerous masses 

 from their fiery bed, and, gathering them 

 on a shovel, flew on deck and cast them, 

 hissing, into the ocean. A few moments' 

 delay and the old Wateree would not have 

 lived to form the central figure of one of 

 the greatest disasters of modern history. 



An examination disclosed the fact that 

 our innocent looking coal was loaded with 

 infernal machines, charged shells and ful- 



minate of mercury enough to have blown 

 up a dozen fleets. Of course, we lost no 

 time in dumping our dangerous acquisition 

 overboard, and one could but laugh at the 

 gingerly way in which the sailors handled 

 the lumps and slid them quietly into the 

 water. We afterwards learned the barge 

 had been prepared by the Peruvians as a 

 trap for the Spaniards, who they expected 

 would pick it up and, using it, be destroy- 

 ed. The plot was magnificent, but it cer- 

 tainly was not war. 



The Wateree was a fine side-wheel, iron 

 ship of 1,200 tons burden; one of a class 

 designed to meet the exigencies of blockad- 

 ing duty in the narrow and tortuous rivers 

 of the South. She carried an enormous 

 battery and crew, and was quite a large 

 ship, yet she drew only about 9 feet of wa- 

 ter, and could steam and steer equally well 

 in either direction, having a rudder at each 

 end. This result was attained by building 

 her quite flat bottomed. While this model 

 detracted somewhat from her speed and 

 seaworthiness, it enabled her to carry 

 the battery and berth the crew of a ship 

 of nearly twice her tonnage of the ordinary 

 model, and saved our lives in the crisis 

 soon to come upon us. 



We had about finished our cruise, and 

 were congratulating ourselves that we had 

 passed safe through all the exciting phases 

 incident to our station, revolutions, North- 

 ers, yellow fever, and even earthquakes; 

 for we had had several shakes which sent 

 the natives shrieking to the squares, while 

 we, with an ignorance soon to be enlight- 

 ened, smiled calmly at their terror and 

 made the usual remarks about "the cow- 

 ardly Dagos." 



August, 1868, found us quietly at anchor 

 off the pretty Peruvian town of Arica, 

 whither we had towed the old U. S. store 

 ship Fredonia, to escape the ravages of yel- 

 low fever then devastating Callao and 

 Lima. We had received preparatory orders 

 to go up the coast to San Francisco, and 

 had been 6 weeks at anchor, overhauling 

 engines and boilers for the long trip. This 

 unusually prolonged stay in one port had 

 given us opportunity to form pleasant ac- 

 quaintances and friendships among the 

 hospitable citizens, and we congratulated 

 ourselves on the fact that our lines had 

 been cast in such an attractive place. 



Arica was, for a Peruvian town, beau- 

 tiful, numbering, it was supposed, 10,000 

 inhabitants. I say supposed, for the in- 

 quisite census taker had never made his 

 rounds, and one arrived at population as 

 the Jerseyman weighs his pig, by guessing. 



