“And, there is rich potential in the Argentine, sirs,” Popham enthusiastically drilled on. “Cattle, hides, tallows, and lards, and mineral wealth, along with vast seas of grain crops, and the bark of the cinchona tree, which is a specific against Malaria. And, Buenos Aires is one terminus of the Spanish Philippines trade, with all the spices, gold, and silver that that means, annually. Our Drake, in his time, would have given his right arm for the chance to take one of the ‘golden galleons’. Who knows what untold wealth now lies in the warehouses and counting houses of Buenos Aires, gentlemen? Do we appear in the Río de la Plata to augment and light the match to the nationalist uprising, we will outnumber, and over-awe, those Spaniards who still cling to the old regime in Madrid, and they are a distinct minority, all our intelligence, and Captain Waine’s personal observations, assure me!”
He’s mad as a hatter! Lewrie gawped to himself; As daft as a March hare!
“Won’t this require an army at least as large as the one that we brought to the Cape, though, sir?” Captain Rowley hesitantly asked, sounding tempted, but wary. “And, do we sail for Buenos Aires, and leave Cape Town un-defended, might we run the risk of losing it to an expeditionary force from the French bases in the Indian Ocean, once they learn of its loss?”
“The French have barely enough troops to garrison Réunion and Mauritius,” Popham was quick to dismiss, “so General Baird will be as safe as houses so long as he holds both fortresses, and can field one brigade of his present strength. A naval presence to defend the Cape is of secondary importance, leaving us free to undertake the invasion of the Argentine.
“I have already spoken with Sir David, and he assures me that he may spare us the Seventy-first Foot, and some dis-mounted dragoons, along with field artillery.… Perhaps we may arm and equip these rescued soldiers from the Queens’ and Fifty-fourth Regiments with surrendered Dutch arms and accoutrements, or trade them for a half-battalion more of Sir David’s troops. General Beresford will command our landing force. And,” Popham paused to give them an reassuring smile, “since the passage to South America requires us to take a great circle route Nor’west with the Sou’east Trades and currents, then over towards neutral Portuguese Brazil, I intend to break our passage at Saint Helena for more water and firewood, and prevail upon the island’s governor to lend me some more troops. A force of two thousand, all told, should be more than sufficient for the initial landings, after which the nationalists come to us. Both Colonel Miranda, and Captain Waine, assure me that there are no more than two thousand Spaniards under arms round Buenos Aires.”
“And here I thought we’d be goin’ East, not West,” Lewrie gaped to fill the uneasy, thoughtful silence. “Have a shot at Réunion, and clean out one privateers’ nest. Have a chance to engage a French squadron, broadside-to-broadside? We’ll be back at convoyin’.”
“Well, in this instance, Lewrie,” Popham said with a pleased simper, “we will most assuredly muster all our Marines and as many sailors as may be spared for shore duty. You may have a chance for even more action ashore … and more mud and dirt on your boots!”
“It could be … glorious,” Lieutenant Talbot of the little Encounter brig spoke up for the first time.
“As glorious as Lord Clive of India, sirs!” Popham exclaimed, seizing upon that word. “One man, with a laughably small force of sturdy British for the backbone, leading native armies in rebellion against the great Moghuls and their tyranny, won not just a province, but the entire Indian sub-continent, and came home with honour, and the untold wealth of emperors! And, might I add, un-dying renown, hey?
“I fully intend,” Popham said, turning more business-like, as if his case was won, “to depart round the middle of April, if not earlier, so see to your victualling and readiness, gentlemen. We shall be having future conferences anent our preparations, and meetings with General Beresford and his staff officers. It would be good for all our Sailing Masters to meet, as well, to share what knowledge they possess of the Plate Estuary, their pertinent charts, along with what charts may be available from the chandlers here in Cape Town.…”
Lewrie looked round the table at his fellow captains, wondering if he should say something along the lines of Have ye lost yer bloody mind? or This is all a load of moonshine! and would speaking up make a groat’s worth of difference. There were several hooded expressions of worry, but in the main, his compatriots looked as if they would go along with Popham’s orders, “muddle through”, and hope to make the best of it. Deference to the authority of one’s commanding officer was sacrosanct in the Royal Navy; men had been court-martialled for mute insubordination for obeying but doing so in a surly manner, or for questioning a superior’s order too strongly.
He ain’t askin’ for our suggestions, Lewrie thought; His mind’s made up and he’s Hell-bent on his little … crusade, and nothing anyone can say’d dissuade him! This ain’t goin’ t’end well!
“… may appear wide, but it is rather shallow, so we may have to put off the selection of our landing beaches until we enter the estuary,” Popham had been going on, just bubbling over with enthusiasm, and waving his cabin stewards to come forward with newly-opened wine bottles. “A glass with you all, sirs!” Popham cried as their glasses were filled. “To victory and glory in the Argentine!” he proposed, and they had no choice but to echo that toast and toss back their wines.
* * *
“Well, that was … breath-taking,” Captain Donnelly of the Narcissus frigate muttered to Lewrie as they stood near HMS Diadem’s entry-port to make their departures in order of seniority.
“Aye, breath-takin’s a mild way t’put it,” Lewrie agreed in a low voice. “Never been there, mind, but it does strike me that there is a lot more to the Argentine than Buenos Aires. God only knows how many people there are, in a long-settled country nigh the size of all Southern Africa. And we’re t’take it with only one infantry regiment? Sounds daft t’me!”
“We might get a second regiment, or a battalion at the least, at Saint Helena,” Donnelly speculated. “With three hundred and fifty of our Marines and sailors … strip our ships to the bare bones … we might succeed. If we find allies in the rebels, and the Spanish garrison is weak.” Donnelly didn’t sound hopeful.
“If there’s no opposition from the Spanish navy,” Lewrie had to point out, scowling. “If that Colonel Miranda is to be believed. It is just too … iffy.”
“The Dons don’t have much of their navy overseas, and we will have two sixty-fours, a fifty-gunner, and three frigates, so we have little to fear on that head,” Donnelly said.
“Only two sixty-fours?” Lewrie asked.
“Belliqueux is to escort the East India Company ships to Madras, now their part in the invasion’s done,” Donnelly told him.
Captain Honyman of the Leda frigate emerged from Popham’s cabins, looking as if he was in a pet, his fingers drumming on his sword hilt.
“I am to stay here at Cape Town,” Honyman announced, growling. “Don’t know whether to feel cheated, or mightily relieved.”
“Protect it all by yourself, sir?” Lewrie asked, amazed.
“I will have the Protector gunboat,” Honyman sneered, “and the sight of that French fourty-gunner, Volontaire, anchored between the shore fortresses. She hasn’t a full Harbour Watch aboard, but anyone who sails in for a look should take her at face value for a ship in full commission.”