IN AND OUT OF VALPARAISO HARBOR
Courtesy That Means Cordial Relations for Many Years--Eight
Hundred Guns Proclaim Peace--President Montt Reviews Ships and
Congratulates by Wireless--Wonderful Sailing of the Battleships
Amid Thick Fog on the Rolling Pacific--Formation Preserved in
the Dark--Great Scene in the Sunlight as the Armada Swept In
Near the Shore and Thundered Salutations to Vast Throng of
Chileans--The Animated "Welcome" Sign--Meeting With the Chicago.
_On Board U. S. S. Louisiana, U. S. Battle Fleet_,
AT SEA, Feb. 15.
An act of international courtesy, unprecedented in American naval annals
at least, and probably unprecedented in the world's history, occurred
yesterday in the harbor of Valparaiso, Chile, when Admiral Evans sailed
in and out of the harbor, saluting the port and then the President of
Chile in person. It was a demonstration which in not only its immediate
but its far-reaching effects was worth probably more than a quarter of a
century's exchange of diplomatic notes and expressions.
Moreover, for sundry reasons which the intelligent observer of more or
less recent events can appreciate, there was no better place on the
South American continent for such a remarkable performance. Especially
gratifying to Admiral Evans were the cordial messages of thanks and
esteem he received by wireless. The last time he sailed away from
Valparaiso kind words did not follow him. Thus does time and a marked
advance in naval power work wonders in international affairs.
The greatest honors that the fleet of any nation could pay to the head
of another nation were paid to President Montt. They were precisely such
as the fleet paid to President Roosevelt on the departure from Hampton
Roads. They differed only in their setting. The flag of another republic
was at the main. Three times as many people witnessed the spectacle in
Valparaiso as observed it in Hampton Roads. The saluting was in a
foreign port, girt about with lofty hills instead of the low lying and
far distant shores of Chesapeake Bay. Elaborately dressed shipping,
flying the flags of half a dozen nations, added color to the scheme.
A great city terraced up the mountain sides made a holiday to gaze,
first in silence and then with cheers, at an armada which meant not
conquest but a visible message of safety from conquest by European
Powers, and an assurance that not only Chile but every other Power in
South or Central America could pursue the path of commercial and
intellectual development secure from the envy and avarice of other parts
of the world. Exhibiting that fleet to Chile was like showing her a
paid-up, interminable insurance policy of peace, made out in the name of
all American peoples. Judging from the responses it elicited Chile liked
the way the policy read.
Few harbors in the world are better adapted for such a scene. There is
no deep bay, no narrow channel to choke the entrance. The harbor is
simply an open roadstead of the Pacific. All that Admiral Evans had to
do was to turn to one side, sweep along the city front just outside the
line of moored shipping and pass on. He was on the broad swells of the
Pacific again within an hour from the time he had turned in shore. It
was an hour of education for Chile, with a lesson in it that otherwise
she could not learn in years, and at its conclusion there was such a
genuine note of appreciation in the exchange of farewells that any
student of the forces that work for good or evil in international
affairs must have been glad that the courtesy call was made.
One also could understand somewhat the feelings of Admiral Evans, who,
after it was all over, sent this characteristic Evans message to the
fleet in words that every man on every ship understood thoroughly:
"The Commander-in-Chief thanks the officers and men of the fleet for the
handsome way they did the trick to-day."
It was handsome and it was stirring. Of course the word trick was used
by the Admiral only in a colloquial sense; there was no trick about it,
for it was simply going a little out of the way to be nice and decent to
a people who for many years had mistrusted us and had said things too.
But what is the use of being a big nation if you can't be big hearted
with it and show that you don't hold resentments? A thousand to one that
Chile's sincere friendship will be ours for many, many years to come.
Unusual as this cruise is, it is the unusual and unexpected that have
come out from it as its salient features. The profound indifference of
the people of Trinidad to the fleet was unusual and something of a bump.
The exuberant welcome and unrestrained hospitality of Brazil was
unusual. The salutes to the flags exchanged between the fleets of
Argentina and the United States on the high seas were unusual. The
despatch of a cruiser on the part of Chile to its most remote port and
carrying our Minister was unusual. The Vice-Admiral salutes given all
along the line to Admiral Evans, whether by accident or design, were
unusual. Having a warship escort the fleet through almost the entire
length of its coast line, as Chile did, was unusual. Lastly the
departure from an established programme to run into the greatest harbor
of another nation to fire salutes to its flag and President was unusual.
From the moment that the fleet headed out into the Pacific from the
Strait of Magellan, in company with the flagship Chacabuco carrying the
flag of Admiral Simpson of the Chilean navy, there was much speculation
as to the kind of reception it would receive in Valparaiso. The great
cordiality shown by Admiral Simpson and the Chilean authorities in Punta
Arenas bespoke the warmest kind of a welcome. But speculation still
continued, and indeed there was little else to do, for a fog settled
upon the waters, which, added to the turbulent condition of the Pacific,
made the trip for several days one of comparative gloom. Occasionally
the fog would lift and you could catch a glimpse of some of the other
divisions of the fleet. Once after nearly twenty-four hours it vanished
completely and there was a genuine ring of satisfaction over the sight
it must have presented to the Chacabuco far off to the westward, for
there was the entire American fleet exactly in position, sailing
precisely as if there had been no fog to hide the ships from one
another. But everybody knew that it would be so.
"That's going some; wonder what the Chilean Admiral thinks of that?" was
heard on all sides.
Then the fog shut in again and for two days more the fleet ploughed on.
It was in a column of divisions formation, that is, the four ships of
the first division were abreast of one another and 400 yards apart.
Twelve hundred yards astern the ships of the second division were in a
similar formation. The third and fourth followed in the same way.
Sometimes the fog was so thick that on the Louisiana, which was on the
left flank of the first line, we couldn't see our nearest neighbor, the
Vermont. The Connecticut, off to the right, would toot her letter on the
whistle, the Kansas would toot hers at once and then the Vermont would
sound hers, followed by the Louisiana. The steering was done by compass
almost entirely. Occasionally we would find the Vermont inching over to
us and she would loom up out of the fog quite near, but her whistle
would say:
"Give me a little more room, please; the Kansas is crowding me over.
When she goes back toward the flagship, or the flagship eases off a bit,
I'll go back. Just a little room, please!"
Then the Louisiana would swing off and a fog bank would cut off sight of
each other. Then there would be another lift and it would be found that
one ship was a hundred yards or so ahead of the others, or perhaps that
they were exactly in line. The searchlights on the ships were thrown
abeam so that for most of the time it was comparatively easy to tell
where your immediate neighbor was. Sometimes we could hear the ships of
the other divisions whistling faintly and we wondered whether the fleet
formation had been broken seriously by currents or faulty steering, but
every time the fog lightened there the ships were, shifted now and then
a little, but in the main exactly where they should be.
Then the Chacabuco signalled that she intended to run into Talcahuano,
the Chilean naval port, and would send messages of our safe passage
through Magellan and also notify the Chilean authorities of the hour of
our arrival in Valparaiso. The two Admirals had agreed upon 2 o'clock on
the afternoon of Friday, February 14. The day after the Chacabuco left,
the air cleared. She agreed to meet us again at noon on February 13 at a
certain latitude and longitude and sure enough shortly after 8 o'clock
on the 13th, her smoke and that of three torpedo boats accompanying her
was made out. On they came and they were abeam at exactly noon. Behind
them was a large passenger steamer, loaded down with folks from
Concepcion, Chile. That ship ran close to the fleet and gave its
passengers a fine view. Then those in the fleet knew that Chile took
intense interest in the passage.
It was necessary to slow to nine, then to eight and then to seven knots
so as not to reach Valparaiso ahead of time. The sea calmed, the sun
came out and a more perfect afternoon was never witnessed on the ocean.
Daybreak on the morning of the 14th showed a lowering sky. Just before 9
o'clock the Chilean coast could be made out and then the fleet made one
or two turns and twists, apparently to kill a little time. Admiral
Simpson took his place at the head of the column which had been formed
and his three torpedo boats took up positions on our right flank, the
side nearest to the city in the harbor, so as to protect the line from
any intrusion. Just before 1 o'clock we could make out the people on
the high hills south of Angeles Point, fittingly named for a great
cemetery sloped up the hillside. The place was black with spectators.
Around the point we could see the puffs of a salute, given probably by
one of the forts or ships to note the arrival of President Montt. Then
we came close to Angeles Point. The beach was thronged. There were tents
where jimcracks were being sold and double decker tram cars were loaded
to the limit. It seemed as if all Valparaiso had come out to that place.
The glasses were turned upon Fort Valdivia, just beyond Point Angeles.
It is a naval station.
Suddenly a midshipman discovered that there was a sign in English on one
of its terraces. It said:
"Welcome!"
"That's mighty nice to whitewash a lot of stones in that way, isn't it?"
said an officer on the bridge.
Three minutes later the navigator sang out:
"Captain, that sign isn't made of stones. It's made of men!"
A dozen glasses were focussed upon the sign at once. Sure enough,
stretched upon the terrace there lay a human sign, made up of sailors or
naval cadets in white. It took three mens' length to make the height of
a single letter. Two men were required for the top and the bottom of the
letter O. These men must not have been entirely comfortable for they lay
there fully an hour, but the sign was as immobile as if it were made of
stone. That compliment touched the kindly feeling of every one on the
ships. It made a sensation. No one had ever seen anything like that.
There was no way of answering it in kind, as you can in saluting; you
could only look at it in dumb amazement and feel grateful.
You were glad then that the compliment had been paid to Admiral Simpson
of allowing him to lead the fleet in with his little cruiser--no Chilean
naval officer ever had such a post of honor--and all the ships took keen
notice of the signal from the flagship to fire a simultaneous salute of
twenty-one guns when notice should be given. As the fleet turned in the
glasses revealed a large collection of ships, some of them old whalers,
lying in the harbor. Grand stands had been built on various eminences
for the people and hundreds of white parasols showed that the fair sex
was alive to the great sea-show.
Half an hour before the fleet approached the harbor it was noticed that
a great canopy of blue sky rested over it. Out where the fleet was it
was still lowering. Abreast of Fort Valdivia the fleet emerged into the
sunshine and stood clearly revealed. Every ship had a bright new
American ensign at its gaff and foretruck. At every main there was a
Chilean ensign. A fresh breeze started up and blew the ensigns out
proudly. Nature helped dress the ships in their best.
Around Point Angeles the Connecticut swept slowly and majestically. She
got well inside the harbor and was almost abeam of Duprat Point when a
set of flags fluttered to the signal yards. They said:
"Prepare to salute!"
The flags hung there until all the answering pennants were shown and
then they wavered an instant as they began to fall, and at once the
sixteen battleships roared out a salvo such as no one in Chile had ever
heard before. The effect of the thunder was electric. The wind
fortunately blew the smoke away from the ships. People on the shore were
seen to jump and run. All along the shore line below Fort Valdivia they
began to race back toward the city and harbor by the thousands. It was
literally a stampede. Great clouds of dust engulfed them and partly hid
them from view. It made those on the ships laugh.
"The town has gone out too far and now has to run back," they said.
Not so; a glimpse along the waterfront showed that what Lieut. Gherardi,
commanding the little Yankton, which had arrived the day before and was
anchored in the harbor, all beautifully dressed, had sent by wireless
early in the morning was true. Gherardi said there was intense interest
in the fleet and all the stores and banks had closed for the day. A
clear space in front of the shipping was preserved. Hundreds of
launches, sailboats and rowboats were out on the water. The hills were
black. The highways running down to the waterfront were filled. Flags
were everywhere. All Valparaiso was out to see the great parade, and for
a time it seemed that she was looking on in awe. Then there came sounds
of cheering from shore and occasionally the sound of "The Star Spangled
Banner" was heard as some band played it.
In less than two minutes after the fleet had fired its salute Fort
Valdivia responded with twenty-one guns. Then three or four miles across
the harbor at the other entrance puffs of smoke could be seen, showing
that an army fort was giving its greeting and saying:
"Glad to see you!"
Admiral Simpson sent a message to Admiral Evans that President Montt
was on the training ship Gen. Baquedano, clear across the harbor, near
Fort Callao, which had fired the army salute. The fleet went into the
harbor, made a slight turn and then sailed for about half a mile in a
straight line close to the shipping and about a mile from shore. Then it
curved away again toward the harbor entrance, following the lead of the
Chacabuco. It now closed the entire harbor. Silently it approached an
anchored training ship, whose yards were manned. The ship was crowded
with high governmental functionaries and their families and friends. In
one corner of the bridge the President could be made out with glasses.
The Chilean ensign with a coat of arms on it, the President's standard,
was at the main. When within 100 yards of the Baquedano the Chacabuco
began its salute of twenty-one guns to the flag of its President. A
slight interval of silence followed and then the Connecticut roared out
its personal greeting to the head of another nation. As each American
ship approached it fired twenty-one guns. The air was filled with smoke,
but the strong breeze blew it away and set the sixteen ensigns of Chile
and the thirty-two of the United States all vibrating and snapping out
almost as plainly as if you could hear it:
"Hurrah!"
In solemn state the ships passed the uncovered President. He received
then and there such a tribute of honor as no other President of Chile
ever received. He saw a collection of warships such as no other South
American President, with the exception of President Penna of Brazil,
ever saw. He had the satisfaction of witnessing a friendly tribute such
as no other nation ever received from the United States. Whatever was
the effect upon the President and the people of Chile, it thrilled those
on the American warships.
For a mile or two beyond the Chacabuco led the fleet and then it turned
and fired a salute to the American flag as it headed back to Valparaiso.
The Connecticut answered with twenty-one guns for the Chilean flag,
signalled to resume the cruising speed of ten knots--and the spectacular
call on the President of Chile and the people of its chief seaport was
over. Altogether nearly 800 guns were fired in the saluting. It was like
the roar of a battle.
In ten minutes after the Connecticut had fired its salute to the
President and before some of the American ships had begun theirs Admiral
Evans sent this message to Admiral Simpson on the Chacabuco:
_To Admiral Simpson_:
The Commander-in-Chief of the United States Atlantic fleet begs
that you will convey to the President of the republic in the
name of himself, officers and men, their appreciation of the
honor he has done them in reviewing the fleet. Please add to
this my personal expression of highest regard. In saying
good-by to you, Admiral Simpson, may I express the hope that we
may meet again in the future, and let me convey herein to you
the sincere thanks of myself, officers and men of the Atlantic
fleet for the many acts of courtesy you have extended to us. We
wish you good health and all success.
EVANS.
Then Admiral Evans sent this to our Minister, Mr. Hicks, on the
Chacabuco:
_To Minister Hicks_:
I beg that you will express to the President of the republic
the thanks of the officers and men of the Atlantic fleet for
the many gracious acts of courtesy we have received from the
representatives of the Chilean Government since reaching their
coast. I am sure that the people of the United States will
fully appreciate the courtesies and that they will go far
toward cementing the friendship between the two nations. With
expressions of highest consideration for you personally, I
remain, yours sincerely,
EVANS.
In five minutes the replies were being heard in every wireless room of
the American ships. This is what Admiral Simpson said:
_To Connecticut_:
Many thanks for your very kind message which I will convey with
the greatest of pleasure to the President, and my personal
thanks for your good wishes in regard to myself and officers.
They join in their good wishes for Admiral Evans and send a
hearty farewell greeting to the Admiral and his officers and
men and wish them all a most successful and prosperous voyage.
SIMPSON.
Mr. Hicks said:
_To Admiral Evans_:
Your message just received. I will deliver it to President
Montt immediately. Kindest regards to you and your officers.
The whole review was all that any one should ask for and I am
proud of the fleet. Good-by and good luck to you.
HICKS.
Then Admiral Simpson sent this greeting from President Montt to Admiral
Evans:
_To Connecticut_:
The President instructs me to thank Admiral Evans for his very
kind message and for having brought the American fleet to
Valparaiso and to express to him his admiration of its splendid
appearance. He further requests me to express to Admiral Evans
his sincere hopes that his health will continue to improve and
his personal desire that he may arrive at his destination in
perfect health.
SIMPSON.
This was followed by this message from Minister Prato of the Army and
Navy of Chile and it pleased Admiral Evans immensely:
_To Admiral Evans_:
The Minister of War and the Navy, in the name of the republic
of Chile, thanks profoundly Admiral Evans for the delicate
courtesy of his salute in Valparaiso and congratulates him, the
Admirals, Captains, officers and crews under him, for the
splendid demonstration given us to-day of seeing the power and
discipline of the fleet under your command. With many cordial
wishes for a pleasant voyage and also for the recovery of your
health at an early date,
BELISARIO PRATO,
Minister of War and the Navy.
To this greeting Admiral Evans sent the final message of the day through
the Yankton:
_To Yankton_:
Transmit this to the Minister of War and the Navy Prato. The
cordial welcome extended by the officials and citizens of the
Republic of Chile has met with our deep appreciation, and I am
sure that it will be a source of great gratification to the
people of the United States when they learn how you have
greeted us. It was a great pleasure to be reviewed by your
distinguished President, and it gave me the greatest
satisfaction to extend to him the same honors that were
extended to the President of the United States on leaving
Hampton Roads. Hoping that my action of to-day may in some
small way draw closer the bonds of friendship which unite the
two great republics and thanking you most gratefully for your
personal expressions,
Yours most sincerely,
EVANS.
It was a good day's work, and even if it did cause the fleet to lose a
day in the run to Callao in addition to the one lost in Punta Arenas in
answering the courtesies of the Chileans, no one begrudged the delay.
The appearance of the city of Valparaiso was a distinct disappointment
to those on the fleet who had not seen it before. Its name means a Vale
of Paradise. Was it intended as mockery? One travel writer has said that
nature never meant that a city should be planted there. The hills come
down so near to the water that there is room for only four or five
streets parallel with it. The city is strung along the harbor for more
than two miles. To find other room for itself it has to climb steep
hills and build homes on terraces. The streams have made great gullies,
or barrancas, in their courses to the sea, and these gulches give a
disjointed appearance to the place. There seems to be no continuity
about it. It is irregular, tilted here and there and most of the hills
have to be overcome with steep railroads, like those which climb the
hills of Pittsburg or Cincinnati. A line of railroad with English
carriages runs along the waterfront. The railroad finds an opening, not
visible from the harbor, where it may escape the girdle of the hills.
There seem to be few houses around the waterfront.
There was little or no color in the buildings. All seemed to be made of
grayish mud. There was no visible verdure in the town. The hills were
brown, as if blighted by a great drought. All was bleak and bare and
dusty. The place looked barren and almost cheerless. A greater contrast
to hill and mountain adorned Rio de Janeiro, the last large city we saw,
heavy with its mantle of green, could not be imagined than this
sun-baked, brown collection of dull-colored buildings constituting a
great seaport. The effects of the earthquake of last year could be seen
here and there with a glass. Walls were broken and buildings toppled
over. This added all the more to the forlorn appearance of the place,
but it gave point to the exuberant welcome which its people gave to the
fleet.
The day before the fleet sailed into Valparaiso harbor it had a little
celebration, somewhat unusual on the high seas, that was strictly
American. The cruiser Chicago, bound for the Atlantic from San
Francisco, met us. Wireless signals had been exchanged and about 3
o'clock in the afternoon the smoke of the Chicago could be made out on
the horizon. An hour later she was approaching the flagship. Then she
saluted the Admiral's flag. Every ship had been told to show passing
honors. The guard was paraded, the rails manned and the band was on the
quarterdeck. The fleet and the Chicago almost drifted by one another. As
the Chicago passed down the line the band on every battleship played
"The Star Spangled Banner." When the bars were finished on the Louisiana
the band struck up "Home, Sweet Home." The long homeward bound pennant
of the Chicago seemed to have an extra flutter in it as the notes
sounded over the smooth sea. In many a man's throat there was a gulp.
After the fleet had passed the Chicago hove to and lay for a quarter of
an hour, all its men gazing as a fond relative after another for which
fate had decreed a long separation.
It was a pretty ceremony, and it furnished food for naval thought. There
was the first steel ship of the United States navy, the flagship of the
White Squadron of more than twenty years ago of which Americans were so
proud. She seemed a puny thing beside any one of this fleet. The
earliest and the latest in modern American warship building were
presented to the eye. And what an advance! Still the Chicago presented a
smart appearance and her 8-inch guns, with which she holds the navy
record, told that she was still useful and she could hold up her head
proudly. Every one was glad she was still in existence. Right then and
there many a young American naval officer got a better idea of the
growth and strength of the navy than most of his books and his study
could reveal to him.
Whatever may have been the motive that impelled President Roosevelt to
send this fleet on its long journey to the Pacific--whether it was to
dare Japan to resent it or to serve notice on that nation to be good;
whether it was for political effect on the Pacific Coast in the hope of
rounding up delegates for some one candidate for President or electing
some man United States Senator; whether it was in accord with some
suggestion perhaps that Secretary Root made in his trip to South
America; whether it was simply a desire to be spectacular; whether it
was a sincere belief that the navy needed just such a cruise to fit it
for its best work and the Pacific was as much entitled to see how it
could be protected as the Atlantic; whether it was for any or all of
these, and all have been suggested in print--whatever it was, let this
be said as to the unexpected and to some extent unforeseen advantages
that have resulted:
The Monroe Doctrine is to-day more of a living, vital thing with the
nations of South America because of the cruise of this fleet than it has
ever been since President Monroe penned its words.