Betrayal (43 page)

‘We are,’ Popham said shortly. ‘We’re on the spot, we’ve achieved so much with so few and, well, we know the way,’ he finished, his head drooping again.

Kydd was taken aback. The reinforcements might well be fewer in numbers than he supposed, and to go in again without overwhelming force would in any circumstances be a grave mistake.

‘Dasher, I’ve seen this Liniers. He’s stirred up the people with patriotism and high words and I’d wager they’d be much harder to beat this time.’

‘Do you take me for a poltroon? I’m not cutting and running! They’re for the most part an undisciplined rabble that will crumble before a determined thrust, take my word for it.’

‘We’ll still need to find many more ships and men than we can expect of the reinforcements, Dasher.’ Kydd paused. ‘Can we not make sure of it by calling for more from another station?’

Popham spoke slowly: ‘I’ve asked Governor Baird for more from Cape Town but St Helena won’t send another man.’

‘No, Dasher. I was thinking more of the Leeward Islands station. Ships-o’-the-line, troops, stores – all for us, if we can convince ’em of the value of rescuing this expedition.’

For a long moment Popham remained silent. Then he straightened painfully. ‘Umm. It is the nearest, I’ll grant you, but I’d hoped not to trouble them in matters concerning this expedition.’

At his words, Kydd realised that he must have refrained from such a move before for one very compelling reason: the far more senior commander-in-chief there would promptly take control of the whole enterprise, its profits and laurels. But higher things were at stake now.

Popham gave a sad smile. ‘However, I believe you to be in the right of things, Thomas. It would make it sure – and that’s what counts. I shall pen a letter immediately. I don’t suppose you’d object to the voyage?’

Kydd threw off his coat and eased into his favourite chair by
L’Aurore
’s stern windows, accepting Tysoe’s proffered toddy.

His friend waited impatiently. ‘So, what is to be our fate, dear fellow?’

Kydd finished his drink, then replied, ‘To sail to the Leeward Islands station to beg for reinforcements. We’re to clap on all sail and spare none.’

Renzi beamed. ‘The Caribbean! A little tropical sunshine would be a capital restorative.’

He looked intently at his friend. ‘And I’m put in mind of some illustrious adventures in the past on that refulgent main. Do you remember our dear
Seaflower
cutter?’

For a long space Kydd gazed out of the window – and then, for the first time in many weeks, a smile spread.

For readers wondering what happened next – well, the longed-for reinforcements arrived a few weeks after the surrender took place, not from England but from Baird at the Cape. However, they were too slight to effect more than the token capture of Maldonado.

Stung by public opinion, the government had in fact sent out reinforcements but they did not arrive until early the following year, and with them Popham’s replacement: he’d been summarily recalled to face court-martial for leaving his station.

The reinforcements were turned into an expedition for the retaking of Buenos Aires. This started well, with the capture of Montevideo, but Whitelocke, a remarkably incompetent political appointee, had been sent out to replace the able General Auchmuty.

The final assault on Buenos Aires was all but over when victory was turned into complete defeat by Whitelocke. Liniers then had the satisfaction of taking the sword of yet another British general. Terms this time were for a complete evacuation, including prisoners from the first incursion.

A year after they had arrived, the British finally sailed away for ever.

The subsequent fate of the main players varied.

Popham’s court-martial resulted in a severe reprimand but it seems not to have affected his career, he at the same time being presented with a sword of honour by the City of London for his efforts to open up the markets of the River Plate. In future Kydd tales you shall see more of this intelligent, manipulative, gifted and controversial figure.

Beresford escaped in a manner much like Kydd did, taking the same line on parole. Later, he led in the capture of Madeira, where he so won the confidence of the Portuguese that he was given the command of their armies following the invasion of Portugal by Napoleon. Like so many military in this book – Pack, the 71st itself, other officers – he went on to distinction in the Peninsular War.

The bluff and energetic Baird, however, was caught up in the recriminations and ended under recall, losing his governorship of the Cape. He was never employed at that level again.

Santiago de Liniers, twice victor, was hailed as viceroy to replace the cowardly Sobremonte, but in the growing divisions between loyalists and patriots, as a royalist and French by birth he was suspected of treason and executed barely a year later.

In a stroke of irony, Spanish and Argentinian sources both freely admit that it was the barely known fringe act of empire portrayed in this book that produced the spark that set South America ablaze to achieve independence, by demonstrating the fragility of the Spanish hold on their old colonies, while Miranda’s descent on Caracas failed. This struggle for independence beginning three years after the British left saw other
bonaerense
such as Pueyrredón, Güemes and Belgrano take forward roles, and the colonial South America that Kydd knew was quickly swept away.

Buenos Aires, never before and never since under threat from the outside, is now the capital of Argentina. The city bears little resemblance to what it was in those days: vastly bigger and with only the Plaza Mayor itself barely recognisable, the fort long gone and the waterfront an altogether healthier prospect. The River Chuelo, in which seamen swam heroically to build their bridge of boats, is now straddled by a vast dock area, while Ensenada de Barragán is a naval base and the Perdriel ranch has been swallowed by the suburbs.

The northern shore is now Uruguay but Colonia del Sacramento still has a defiant Portuguese colonial feel to it, the little bastion at the water’s edge attracting curious visitors.

Of this whole South American episode there are very few relics remaining but in the down-town church of Santo Domingo a visitor to Buenos Aires may stand before the actual colours of the 71st Regiment of Highlanders, surrendered on that fateful day by General Beresford.

As usual, for space reasons, I am unable to acknowledge everyone I consulted in the process of writing this book, but to all I owe my deep thanks. Special mention, however, must be made of Sarah Callejo in Madrid who gave unstintingly of her time in respect of various queries on Spanish sources. I also owe a debt of gratitude to the staff of the British Library and the University of London Library.

And, as ever, my huge appreciation must go to my wife and literary partner, Kathy, my agent Carole Blake and my editor Oliver Johnson.