I did not do anything for the woman. Shot through the heart, she was
past all aid. I made a dash into a by-street, intending to reach the
station, get my engine ready and go to Ilo to prevent the insurgents
from using the road to transport their troops. But I ran into an
officer's arms before I had gone a block. He had been looking for me
all night, and told me I was his prisoner. I was to be taken before
Senor Pierola. Meantime I was to be treated with every consideration,
the officer paying for breakfast and cigars, and insisting on my
drinking some ale which he had taken as a contraband of war.
It was some time before we could get near the great leader of the
revolution, the approaches to his house being crowded with people.
Ladies were prominent among the crowd, carrying flowers and declaring
their deliverer had come to make Peru the greatest nation on the
Pacific.
After the officer presented me Pierola asked me if I spoke Spanish.
Upon being answered in the affirmative, he asked my name, nationality
and how long I had been employed by the Peruvian government; all of
which being answered to his satisfaction, he asked me if I would work
for him, and if I would, in the event of his being victorious, I
should be appointed to take charge of the Ilo and Moquequa railways.
He only wanted me to convey troops down the valley, take up some of
the rails to prevent the government troops from using the line, and
then before he retreated to another position which he would fortify,
to dismantle the engine and hide the parts, so that in case the
government troops should come to Moquequa the engine would be of no
service to them.
I replied that I was a British subject, and that if I were to do what
he requested of me, and should be taken prisoner by the government,
and the fact became known that I had taken part, I would be unable to
claim the protection of my government. He agreed that that was true,
but he would insure against that by sending a few troops with me, and
it would look as if force was compelling me to do what, which without
force, I would not have done.
I finally agreed, and after giving my word that I would not attempt to
escape, received orders to take the engine, as a squad of soldiers
would accompany me, and at a certain place along the line which they
would designate, the rails would be torn up. We started that
afternoon.
We carried two flat cars to load the rails on. About forty miles from
Moquequa we discovered another train coming toward us, but upon our
nearer approach they backed off rapidly. It was a party of government
troops sent out to ascertain whether the road was clear in order to
bring up their main body. Our company then took up rails and made the
road dangerous in ten different places. We blew up a small wooden
bridge with giant powder.
The officer in charge made frequent stops in the valley and levied a
tribute of money on all the wine merchants he could find. They usually
gave, as they knew too well the consequence of refusing. Those who hid
away found, on their return, their wine presses and vaults in ruins.
On our return to Moquequa, I was ordered to disable the engine, which
I did by taking off both valve stems and driving rods. The officer hid
them and that was the last I ever saw of them. We attended a dance
which lasted all night, and drank much wine in anticipation of the
success of the revolution. It was a gala night. There was dancing and
music in nearly all the houses.
In the early morning bugles, drums and other instruments began making
a hideous noise, officers were commanding men to form ranks, horses,
mules and donkeys were running hither and thither, and dogs were
barking. Here and there were groups of men learning to load their
rifles, others endeavoring to parry and thrust with cutlasses and
making fierce swings at an imaginary government soldier. Louder and
hoarser came the call of the officers, but their commands were lost on
the motley crowd. After several hours the officers succeeded in
getting the men into some kind of marching order.
I turned to a store to buy some cigars, when I heard someone calling,
and turning I beheld three of my fellow prisoners that a few months
before were in jail convicted of murder. One straightened out his hand
to me, but I did not take it. I asked them how they escaped; it was
the old story. The insurgents needed recruits and they were liberated
on condition that they fight for Pierola.
Such was Peru, and such it is today. Instead of the people supporting
the government, the government supports the people, and when all its
favors become exhausted, then some one arises and proclaims himself
president, organizes a band of thieves and murderers, and endeavors
to gain control.
There have been exceptions, when an indignant people, who have been
trodden to such an extent that it seems a revolution is the only means
of righting their wrongs; but nine out of ten are the work of an
ambitious man who wants to become ruler.
I asked the ex-convicts where the other three were who had been
confined with them. Two had died and the other was with the troops.
They begged for money and I gave them a dollar each, and after
profusely thanking me they left to follow the rear guard of Pierola's
scoundrels.
After purchasing my cigars, I followed the main body of troops with my
escort of twenty soldiers, to keep guard over me, as arranged with
General Pierola. Our destination was Torato, thirty miles from
Moquequa. The road led over passes and wound around mountain sides,
and from several points of vantage I could see the army on the march,
with General Pierola and a priest by his side in the lead. The priest
was there to inspire courage in those who might waver. The army
numbered six hundred infantry and two hundred cavalry, many of whom
did not know the duties of a soldier.
On arriving at Torato, I secured quarters for myself and escort at the
expense of the insurgent general. A month passed in wine drinking and
dancing. There were gay festivities every night, lasting sometimes
until late the next morning, the officers seldom seeing their men.
Instead of drilling them, they spent their time telling how they were
going to annihilate the government troops. Some little fortifying had
been done, but the natural surroundings were sufficient to prevent a
prudent attack. One day the news came that the government troops were
advancing and then some little work was done to prepare for battle.
The day before the battle, I told General Pierola I had no objections
to following him to the battlefield, but in consideration of being a
non-combatant, I asked the privilege of selecting my own course,
giving him my word of honor that I would not make any attempt to
escape. He was satisfied and gave me a pass allowing the freedom I
desired. The next day the cry arose that the government troops were
only six miles away. There was hurrying to and fro with no discipline.
The priest accomplished more by his cross than all the officers. There
was a babel of voices. All were trying to give commands. Suddenly
heavy firing was heard, the outpost had become engaged at last.