Betrayal

‘Is my duty, Nicholas. I playing my part.’

The exaltation had passed and there was now seriousness – and resolve. ‘But not so easy. Los patriotas they are many, but many leaders also. They quarrel, fight each other. I will tell them for the sake of freedom they must join in one.’

‘Then – would you wish it that we go together?’ In Renzi’s past he had seen his share of naivety and treachery and feared for his young friend.

‘No es posible. Here is no place for the English gentleman. The country is raw and wicked, the people as untamed animals. No, is my duty, my glory.’

‘Then I honour you for it, Vicente. So, Puerto del Ingles, where is it at all?’

‘Ah, Maldonado, to the west twenty miles. Is where you English take on shore your smuggled goods to trade. A lagoon of seven mile protect and it have a pretty beach.’

‘Captain Kydd wishes to make contact as quickly as possible. You should be prepared to land in the darkness tonight. Are you ready?’

A knapsack of rations and a canteen of water was all he would accept, together with a stout boat-cloak and scarf, insisting he go entirely unarmed. It was Renzi who quietly pointed out that any documentation of authenticity provided by the commodore would be a death sentence if he was taken up by the authorities.

In the evening, L’Aurore ghosted into the bay. A boat was put in the water with Renzi and Serrano as passengers and they warily made for the point at the northern end of the beach, passing inshore fishermen in their curious flat boats, ignoring them as they worked. In the gathering gloom the boat doused sail and, under oars, hissed into the sand.

Serrano stood in the boat and hesitated, staring into the anonymous countryside with its wafting odour of dryness and cattle.

‘If you’d rather wait . . . ?’ Renzi offered.

He shook his head, made his way clumsily down the boat and dropped on to the beach, remembering to turn and lift a hand in farewell.

‘Vaya con Dios, mi amigo,’ called Renzi, in a low voice. He watched the man trudge up the beach and into the thickets.

Chapter 6

‘Flag, sir. All captains.’ It was Calloway, now holding a temporary warrant from the commodore as master’s mate after the death of Pearse. With a vacancy on the quarterdeck for a midshipman, the earnest Searle had been elevated, seeming young and vulnerable in the inherited uniform that hung about him.

‘Thank you,’ said Kydd. The summons was expected: at this critical point Popham had decided on a proper council-of-war, which had full legal standing – no mere gathering of opinion but the coming to a course of action that they would all agree upon. Then if there was a calamity, no one could claim they had known it all along and not been heard.

Diadem’s great cabin was soon packed. At one end of the table athwart was the commodore, at the other Beresford, general officer in command of land forces. The naval captains were along one side, the army on the other.

‘Thank you for your attendance, gentlemen,’ Popham opened, with a broad smile. ‘This council-of-war now begins.’ One of his lieutenants sat to his right, taking note of the proceedings, a subaltern next to General Beresford doing the same.

‘Prospects for our success remain excellent, I’m happy to say. The strength of the enemy is as we heard before and there appears no reinforcement contemplated. Should we make our stroke with boldness and speed, we shall be able to avoid a protracted campaign.’

Beresford coughed discreetly. ‘That is all very well, sir, but may we be told where such information has come from? Do you have sources of intelligence among the Dons that can be trusted to reveal all to us?’

Popham looked pained. ‘Sir, as in most expeditions of my experience, the usual fishermen, merchants and others are well capable of providing a picture of their circumstances, which, taken in the round, can establish the situation better even than a lone spy or traitor. They have nothing to gain by giving false information, which will be discovered later, and everything to gain when it is over and we are in power.’

The general harrumphed but offered no further question.

‘I’m interested to know how your revolt is to be managed,’ rumbled Honyman. ‘Are they to play in our show? When will we know they’re of a mind to rise up and such?’

‘I’ve an envoy passed ashore to speak with the chief of the rebels, and another courtesy of Captain Kydd. Their task is to bring them to a meeting with ourselves with the object of co-ordinating our attack with their rising. Their instructions are to proceed with the utmost celerity.’

‘Have you communication from them?’

‘I expect it hourly, General.’

‘So, no word yet after three days. We cannot delay matters for them,’ Beresford came in sharply, ‘and, further, it’s my opinion that no reliance whatsoever be placed on the services of irregular troops, whatever their dedication. Are they to be under my express command? If not, then they cannot appear in my order of battle.’

‘Neither do we expect to see them there, sir,’ Popham replied smoothly. ‘Any accession to strength from these irregulars is to be welcomed but not relied upon. Our expectation is that any revolt will be more in the character of a general and spontaneous uprising in the population as a whole, following the example of our assault, which will go on to overwhelm the Spanish forces.’

‘Hmph,’ glowered Beresford. ‘Let us now consider the reduction of the Montevideo fortress. We’ve little enough in the way of siege engines and such, and you admitted before, did you not, that this is the chief stronghold for the entire River Plate?’ He looked about him significantly.

‘I’m not saying we’ve no chance of success, merely that our planning has to be meticulous. Therefore this is what I propose. We land well to the east, marching rapidly for a hooked advance from the interior instead of-’

Popham held up his hand. ‘Thank you, General. Before we discuss these details I wish to advise that in the light of recent intelligence I’ve been looking at quite another strategy as it offers itself.’

‘Recent intelligence?’ the general growled. ‘Should we not be told of this?’

‘All will become clear in a moment, sir,’ Popham said patiently. ‘The intelligence comes from an unimpeachable source – the chief pilot of the viceroyalty, lately taken. He may be considered the first major figure coming over to us. He’s laid before me the defensive situation of the Spanish, and this is that all their regular troops have been moved to Montevideo on the assumption that that city will be our objective.’

‘Any fool knows this.’

‘He further specifies that, as a consequence, the city of Buenos Aires is defenceless, a paltry militia battalion only.’

‘Are you seriously suggesting-’

‘It crosses my mind that as this is the chief city and seat of power, its loss will, at a blow, paralyse the Spanish and give heart to the people in their rising.’

‘This is a foolish notion that flies in the face of military science. To leave an enemy position of strength in the rear of one’s advance is of the first rank of idiocy and I cannot countenance such an act.’

‘Umm. Not only this, General, but you may not be aware that in the city treasury lie untold millions in silver that cannot be freighted to Spain for want of ships . . .’

There was an immediate stir of interest. ‘Purely out of curiosity, dear fellow, but should this be confiscated, for the Navy . . . will it be put forward as in the nature of, er, prize money?’ Captain Byng asked.

‘There is precedent, George. I rather feel that Droits of the Crown will not be asserted in this case,’ Popham murmured.

Another voice came in: ‘Ah. Then-’

‘Shall we get back to the matter in hand?’ Beresford broke in heavily. ‘Montevideo will not easily be taken by storm with the forces I have to command. Therefore we will-’