Betrayal tk-13 Page 19

  It was past believing – could it be …? Then reason asserted itself. The viceroy, the Marquis of Sobremonte, would now without doubt bring all his forces to a climactic confrontation with the invaders and all would be decided that morning.

  But there was no army massing ahead, no sudden opening of an artillery barrage. Only an ominous silence. Under low grey skies, the wind piercing their damp bodies, they marched on, nearer and nearer. A road firmed, leading into the suburbs and making the going much easier, and on either side there were curious flat-roofed houses, faces at the windows. Surely-

  ‘Flag o’ truce, sir!’

  Six mounted soldiers under a white flag were winding their way towards them.

  ‘Halt the advance,’ Beresford ordered. ‘Let’s hear what they’ve got to say for themselves.’

  The men were in splendid uniform, with gold sash and silver spurs, but there was an air of controlled ferocity about them. Stepping his mount forward, the general’s Spanish-speaking aide heard them out.

  ‘Sir,’ he said to Beresford, in a perfectly even voice, gesturing towards the most richly dressed. ‘This is the Virrey Diputado Quintana. He desires a parley concerning capitulation.’

  ‘Damn it!’ Beresford hissed. ‘His or ours?’

  ‘He is empowered to give up the entire city of Buenos Aires, sir.’

  There was a shocked pause, then Beresford came back haughtily: ‘Tell ’em I’ll only discuss that with Viceroy Sobremonte himself.’

  The men exchanged quick looks, their gaze dropping. His dark features contorted with shame, Quintana muttered something and looked away.

  ‘Sir, the viceroy has fled the capital and is unavailable.’

  A breathless sense of unreality stole over Kydd. That they had thought to seize Buenos Aires with a mere handful of soldiers was incredible, but that they were now conquerors of the whole Spanish empire in the south with those same few was beyond belief.

  ‘Ah. Then, er, my terms are these. The honours of war to these stout defenders, the protection of the people and their property, and the foreseeable continuation of their justice and, er, municipal authority.’

  This was the same as offered to the inhabitants of Cape Town, Kydd remembered.

  ‘Sir, they ask two hours for deliberation.’

  ‘Not granted. In half an hour my advance must resume and I cannot be held responsible for what my enraged Highlanders will do in the event of resistance by the city.’

  The deputation withdrew, but when they returned, Quintana agreed and stiffly offered his sword. Beresford accepted it and, in accordance with his own terms, graciously returned it. ‘We shall enter the city in three hours, gentlemen.’

  It had happened.

  Popham’s audacious plan to bypass Montevideo had succeeded.

  And at exactly the time specified, the British South American Expedition marched off to take possession.

  In the event it was the best show that could be made – thin rain was beginning to fall again and, apart from some pipers and drummers, there was no military band. The soldiers were ordered to march well spaced in open order and stepping short to give an impression of greater numbers.

  Kydd, riding with the staff, gave the honour of leading the Royal Blues to Clinton, who went pink with pleasure. There would be much in his next letter home, no doubt.

  They swung along in that same sense of unreality. The houses on either side were now filled with curious onlookers, but Kydd could see no hatred, simply a mix of foreign-looking people looking more confused than hostile. Soldiers grinned at girls on latticed balconies who were waving and smiling, some even throwing blossoms as the men marched past.

  The city proper was no sprawling provincial backwater. It was laid out in regular rectangular blocks of substantial buildings, the largest of which were finished in white along fine avenues. They passed a noble twin-spired church and frowning public edifices until at last they reached a vast square facing the river.

  There was a domed cathedral, spacious colonnaded buildings and at one end a long arcade with a central arch. The parade marched through, the sound of the pipes and drums echoing dramatically, until they emerged before a massive square fort, the red and yellow colours of Spain prominent on its flagstaff. On all sides and from every passage and doorway, hundreds upon hundreds watched, silent and fascinated.

  The parade came to a halt; hoarse shouts from sergeant majors made a show of dressing off and stamping to attention, and then it was the final act.

  Beresford dismounted, paced evenly to the disconsolate group at the gates of the fort and answered their salutes smartly. Kydd could not hear what was said but it was clear what was happening. After some polite exchanges and bows, an object was handed over which he guessed must be the keys. The gates were flung open and a small body of soldiers marched out.

  Taking the keys, an aide and two soldiers entered the fort. Nobody moved for some minutes and then, abruptly, the flag of Spain jerked down. In its place the Union flag of Great Britain soared up in a breathless hush. A low murmur spread around the square but in the distance came the rumble of guns. It was Encounter – acknowledging the yielding of the city of Buenos Aires to His Britannic Majesty.

  It had happened.

  Inside the fort it was bedlam. While a distracted Beresford stood at a desk snapping orders to his harassed staff, a constant stream of messengers arrived, continually interrupting with urgent news. He thrust scribbled orders at his aide, which, hastily relayed, brought on distant shouts and commotion as they were put into effect. Other officers impatiently waited their turn for clarification and detail, every man still mud-spattered and dishevelled, direct from the field of battle.

  Kydd kept apart, knowing that there was little he could do until the situation cleared. There was, of course, the tantalising prospect that, as his role ashore had been concluded, surely there was nothing to prevent him returning to the comfort and order of his ship. His pulse quickened at the thought but he took in the scene as the future of Buenos Aires was decided.

  It was a titanic task: nothing less than the securing of a great city, new conquered.

  In the near term, armed parties of reconnaissance would be sent forth, urgently seeking out pockets of resistance, while at the same time a nucleus of rule had to be established to centralise decisions and orders. Then there were the troops, who must be fed and sheltered, lines of supply established, at first with the fleet and later locally and after that …

  Then it would be necessary to make public announcement of intentions – how the new masters of Buenos Aires would rule, what the position of the former great and good would be in any ruling council and, above all, how the price of victory would be exacted in taxation. With a staff in single figures and few able to speak Spanish, it was going to be a Herculean task to perform in just a very few days. But it had been done before – so recently at Cape Town.

  They had achieved their triumph in a very short time – was this why there was no uprising of the disaffected? It would be of incalculable value to be able to install a rebel government, keen to preserve their standing against a Spanish counter-move, but so far none had made communication and therefore, in the sturdy tradition of the British military, they would make shift for themselves.

  Seeing his chance, he moved across to Beresford. ‘Sir, I’m truly sorry to intrude, but would you not say my character as a colonel of foot is now at an end?’

  When the general looked up, it was with a smile. ‘Ah, yes. You sailors are notoriously restless if kept from your element overlong. I do thank you for your service, sir, and bid you to be gone – but if you’ve no objection, I’ll retain your brigade until things become more certain. You have a lieutenant who … ?’

  ‘You’ll be well served by Lieutenant Clinton, sir,’ Kydd said, exulting inwardly.

  A new disturbance sounded outside. The crash of boots and muskets – it could only be the arrival of an officer of rank.

  It was Commodore Popham, who strode
beaming into the room, his spotless uniform a picture of splendour against the mired soldiers. He acknowledged Kydd’s presence but went straight to Beresford.

  ‘My word, William, and what a stroke!’ The din subsided a little out of respect for him. ‘The conqueror of Buenos Aires! Three days and you have the city. You’re much to be congratulated, you devil.’

  Beresford regarded him stonily. ‘The rabble I faced in the field was not an adversary worth the name, sir.’

  ‘You prevailed. Saw them off in fine style – that’s all that matters and, I’d say, gives us heart for the future.’

  ‘Yes, to be sure. Now, there’s much to occupy me, Commodore …’ Beresford said meaningfully.

  ‘Of course! Not the least of which must be the safe custody of so much treasure.’

  ‘So much … To what do you refer, sir?’

  ‘Why, here in the fort. You must know it’s the holding point for the cargo of the Spanish treasure fleet before it ships across to Spain?’

  ‘I had heard something.’

  ‘Well, surely you-’

  ‘Sir, there are other matters touching on our survival that would seem to have more claim on my time. If we are to-’

  ‘I can only think that such a vast sum, unguarded, will quickly be a focus for every species of adventurer, to the hazard of our security. It would seem to me prudent at least to make an account of its amount and situation.’

  Beresford’s lips thinned. ‘This is not-’

  An army lieutenant intervened hastily: ‘Er, gentlemen, may I interrupt? As having but this hour returned from making inventory of the armoury and similar in this fort, I can say with certainty that there is no bullion or specie held in this building beyond a trivial amount.’

  The room fell silent, all turning to the young officer. He continued nervously, ‘You see, Viceroy Sobremonte in fleeing into the country took care to remove the treasure to take with him. Some thirty tons of silver at the least, I was told.’

  ‘You mean there’s … nothing in the strong-room? At all?’

  ‘Er, some four hundred piastres for the payment of troops is all, sir.’

  Popham turned pale. ‘Then – then we must go after this damned viceroy! William, if we’re to-’

  ‘We do nothing of the sort, sir. What will the world think? That we’re here on a mission of depredation and plunder? No, sir, I won’t have it.’

  ‘We must!’ Popham blurted. ‘Let’s send after him with a troop of fast-riding dragoons or some such. They’ll soon come up with the wretch – that weight of silver in ox-carts will slow-’

  ‘I will not, sir! And, in case you need reminding, I hold a commission from Governor Baird that honours me with the title of lieutenant governor of this city. All such orders will emanate from me alone.’

  Popham took control of himself and replied evenly, ‘Then, sir, I would beg you consider the consequences in London-’

  ‘Pray keep silent, sir!’ Beresford barked. ‘I find your display at this time of difficulty an impertinence.’

  ‘No, sir, I cannot!’ Popham snapped. ‘This expedition is a joint affair – we all bear responsibility for what occurs. And should it be known that, for want of due dispatch, a treasure in the amount that will pay for this expedition many times over is let go for the sake of a nicety then we shall all answer for it.’

  Beresford glared at him as he went on strongly, ‘And where, pray, do you expect to find monies sufficient to pay troops for an extended occupation? And reserves for works of fortification? And other? Sir, we have no choice whatsoever – we must go after it.’

  The general hesitated. ‘The people here will resent its seizing. We cannot.’

  ‘The City of London will be much encouraged by its display and will hotly desire to invest in such a place, while Whitehall must perforce send reinforcements to safeguard same – the greater object is achieved.’

  ‘Nevertheless, I haven’t the troops.’

  ‘A small detachment will suffice. The Spanish are not expecting a bold move.’

  Beresford gave it thought. ‘Perhaps those dragoons. Very well, they shall set out this hour,’ he said coldly. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me …’

  The room resumed its clamour.

  Popham mopped his brow and, recovering himself, went to Kydd. ‘An entertaining time for you these last days, I don’t doubt.’ He surveyed Kydd’s soiled uniform and winced. ‘Did our marine brigade put up a reasonable show of it?’

  ‘They did so indeed,’ Kydd answered warily, unsure what construction to put on Popham’s outburst.

  ‘But you’ll be happy to part with them.’

  ‘Sir,’ he said carefully.

  ‘Good. For I’ve a particular service for you that is of vital importance to our existence here.’

  ‘It’ll be my pleasure to be back aboard, Dasher, that I’ll confess.’

  Popham smiled briefly. ‘That is, I have no power to elevate you to the felicity of port admiral but I can make you port captain. A very necessary post – responsible for all ship movements in and out of the port, and for the sake of our survival here the effectiveness of our resupply and cargo handling. You will keep a weather eye open for any motions of the enemy to agitate against us, and regulate the merchantmen when they come, which they surely will when they smell the trade.’

  ‘But-’

  ‘L’Aurore is in good hands. In your absence your premier has behaved himself well – and, in any case, her tasking is simple seaward picket duty.’

  ‘I had hoped-’

  ‘Yes. Oh, and one more thing.’ Popham leaned forward and lowered his voice. ‘It would oblige me greatly should you keep me in touch with what’s going on among our army colleagues. Not that I don’t trust ’em, but they have odd ways and I’d rather not be surprised, if you take my meaning.’

  Kydd bristled. ‘In all fairness, Dasher, I think I’ve done my part. Can you not find another to-’

  ‘No. You’re the only one of my captains experienced with the lobsterbacks and, besides, this is but an extension of your current situation, which will last only until our reinforcements arrive in a few weeks.’

  Kydd paused: it was a necessary and responsible post, certainly, but not best suited to his temperament. Yet, if looked at in the light of his career as a whole, Kydd had to concede it was a not unwelcome development. A spell ashore as port captain was often a necessary prelude to active flag rank in order to demonstrate organisational ability. Further, if L’Aurore was indeed to be kept criss-crossing the vast estuary, it wasn’t as if he was missing any action.

  It settled his mind. ‘An office? Staff?’

  ‘You shall have my written order this day. Raise what you need against it. And do remember, a healthy and profitable trade is what is most calculated to rally the people to our cause.’

  He clapped Kydd on the shoulder, turned and left quickly.

  The din resumed but Kydd’s mind was engaged. The first priority was to register an account of every marine resource, from the total length of alongside berths to docking facilities, slipways, shipbuilding and repair. Then to establish procedures for Customs clearance, legal quays and all the apparatus of port control together with the outer services, such as pilots and surveyors. A form of coastguard and revenue service would be needed, but was that within his remit? And-

  ‘They said this was where I’d find you.’

  Kydd looked round in surprise. ‘Why, Nicholas – what are you doing here?’

  ‘Is it so strange, old fellow, to witness a confidential secretary bearing ship’s papers to his captain?’

  ‘I know you too well, Nicholas. You’re curious – you want to see the ethnicals of South America.’

  ‘And so I have,’ Renzi said, with a grin. ‘In my short walk here … Look, if we go to the roof of this stout fortress, you’ll see.’

  They climbed a flight of stone steps and emerged on to a flat roof, edged by parapets and populated by guns, to gaze out over the city.


  ‘Behold!’ Renzi exclaimed, throwing out his arms.

  The fort itself was modest in size compared to other buildings, one side of it facing on to the large square, with the great cathedral in one corner and all parts connected by colonnaded pathways and arcades. On the far side there was an impressive, multi-arched building, which Renzi suggested was the seat of city government, the cabildo.

  Closer to, the high gateway they had gone through was apparently the entrance to the marketplace, already with hopeful traders bringing in their produce. But beyond the opposite wall was the river, still a limitless expanse to the horizon. A long stone mole extended out but at this state of tide no boat could reach it. Instead they came to a stop some way out and peculiar carts went to attend them. Narrow, with a pair of immense wheels that served to keep them clear of the thick mud, they were drawn by listless, pitifully thin horses.

  They looked downwards on to a stretch of foreshore and saw washerwomen at grassy pits working vigorously with wooden mallets, completely oblivious to the great happenings about them. Further along sea-birds wheeled in noisy clouds, shrieking as pieces of fish offal were thrown into the water, and out in the bay dozens of small ships lay at anchor, waiting for the situation to resolve.

  ‘A certain fragrance, don’t you think?’ The air was thick with competing odours: the fish, a suggestion of the grasses of the Pampas and the usual exotic cooking smells of a foreign land.

  ‘Yes, as may be. Did you hear I’m to be port captain?’

  ‘No, I didn’t. Then we shall be deprived of your presence on our good ship?’

  ‘The next few weeks or so until the reinforcements arrive, I’m told.’

  Something passed across Renzi’s face, and Kydd added, ‘Nicholas, you never thought we’d do it, did you? Doubted that we’d win over such odds as we saw, that Popham’s plan was nonsense – isn’t that so?’

  Renzi shook his head and looked at him gravely. ‘Dear fellow. It’s more that I have misgivings, not to say a sense of foreboding. I can’t say it more precisely, but it was all too easy, so like our success at Cape Town – but this continent is strange, ominous in its differences in a way Africa never was.’