“General Baird had none to spare,” Popham said with a dismissive wave of a hand, “and the horse transports had to be released for return to England immediately following the landing at Blaauwberg Bay. We do have those dis-mounted troopers of the Twentieth Light Dragoons … perhaps they could dash ahead on ‘shank’s ponies’, what?”
He got his expected laugh.
“With a swift landing, I have complete trust in your ability to brush aside what meagre opposition we may face, General. Now!” Popham declared, then clapped his hands once more and began to sketch out details of the landings.
Lewrie had a look at Beresford, and gathered that that worthy was not quite as sanguine as Popham was. For his part, he wasn’t as confident in Brigadier Beresford, either.
He’s a pleasant old stick, but what’s he done in the past, and against whom? Lewrie wondered; Our Army officers buy their ranks, buy their way up, and make Colonel or General by seniority, not experience! Belong to the right clubs, patrons an’ friends at Horse Guards, in Parliament? And, Beresford looks so mild a fellow, God help us.
General Baird had done a fine job at Cape Town, but he had had equal numbers against the Dutch, all the time in the world to get his troops ashore with no opposition, and had had to fight only one brisk skirmish to clear the Blaauwberg, and one sharp set-piece battle, with everything all “tiddly”, and superiority in artillery and infantry. Baird even looked like a soldier who knew what he was about!
A quick landing, a quick march to Buenos Aires, against how many? Lewrie speculated; Un-opposed? That might be askin’ a lot this time! From what I’ve seen of our Army, they don’t have “quick” in their field manuals!
He had been rapt in his own thoughts, with only half an ear for Popham, who had been carrying on with zest and enthusiasm, most-like formulating ideas for crossing the Andes to seize Chile, next, set up cattle ranches the size of France for every participant, or have a city named for himself, for all he knew.
Don’t matter, really, Lewrie sourly thought; Popham’s his own best audience.
“… once the mid-day meal is piped, we shall begin transferring Marines and sailors to Encounter and Narcissus,” Popham said, as if he was summing up, at last. “Captain Lewrie, not only shall we need your fourty-odd Marines and twenty armed sailors, I fear that I must requisition your barges and cutters, to speed the landings when they begin. You’ll get them all back, once the landings are done.”
“Of course, sir,” Lewrie answered.
“Can’t let you have all the fun ashore, this time, hey? This time, Acting-Captain King of Diadem will command the ‘Royal Blues’,” Popham said. “Your Reliant draws too much water, in any event, to accompany us further up the estuary.”
“I understand, sir,” Lewrie said by rote, reminding himself to plaster a wee smile on his phyz.
“That should be all for now, gentlemen,” Popham concluded. “On the morrow, we shall set off for Point Quilmes, land the Army and our naval contribution, and win ourselves a splendid victory!”
“Hear hear!” the others shouted, pounding and drumming their fists on the table top. “Toast, toast! To victory!”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Reliant’s sailors and Marines returned back aboard to a hearty welcome, loud cheers, and good-natured teasing, boasting of their experiences alongside the army, and crowing over their easy victory. A soon as Marine Lieutenant Simcock, and the Second and Third Officers, Lts. Spendlove and Merriman, gained the deck, Lewrie and Lt. Westcott were all over them, demanding news.
“It came off as easy as ‘kiss my hand’, sir!” Lt. Merriman crowed. “We waded ashore on the twenty-fifth and the morning of the twenty-sixth, set off up the coast road, met the Dons, and had a battle—”
“Not much of one, sir,” Lt. Simcock interrupted, bubbling over with good cheer. “They were all cavalry, about fifteen hundred or so, and we saw them off after a few volleys and some sharp practice with our artillery. They scampered, and we marched again to catch them up, but they melted away.”
“They did cut the bridge over the Cuello, but they didn’t stay to deny us crossing, sir,” Lt. Spendlove boasted. “Captain King had all the landing boats come up the river, we used bridge timbers to make rafts, and were in the city’s outskirts by the twenty-eighth. After that, the Spanish had no choice but to surrender the place to us.”
“God, the loot, sir!” Simcock hooted. “We took nigh a million silver Spanish dollars from the treasury, and a company of Highlanders caught up with their viceroy’s coaches on his way to the back country, and took over six hundred thousand more! What we seized by way of goods in the warehouses might be worth double of all that!”
“A rather peaceful and un-eventful occupation after that, sir,” Lt. Spendlove said with a shrug. “A lot of angry looks were all that we got. The Commodore ordered that private property was respected.”
“That, and some harsh wines, and high prices in the taverns and eateries,” Lt. Merriman stuck in. “Beef steaks the size of serving platters with almost every meal, though. The Argentines are simply awash in cattle. They roast steaks over hot coals on almost every streetcorner.”
“So the independence movement is now in charge?” Lewrie asked.
“Pshaw, sir!” Lt. Simcock spat. “As far as any of us could determine, there is no independence movement, save for a few top-lofty scribblers and rich intellectuals. The whole idea seems more an idle salon exercise than a real revolutionary movement.”
“Not one?” Lt. Westcott asked with an amazed brow up.
“Let us just say that no one we encountered came up to congratulate us, or thank us, sir,” Lt. Spendlove told him in his usual serious mien.
“Were the ladies at least pretty?” Westcott pressed.
“Oh, sir,” Lt. Merriman said in mock sympathy, “had you been with us, you would have been mightily dashed. Anyone with a fetching young miss, and a tad of common sense, would keep them locked behind iron-barred windows and doors from los heréticos ingleses such as us.”
“Our sailors and private Marines might have seen one or two somewhat fetching doxies in the brothels,” Lt. Simcock teased, “but surely, one cannot expect gentlemen officers to stoop to entering establishments like that. Right, sir?”
Westcott delivered Simcock a very bleak expression. Westcott had proved himself such an ardent chaser of quim that he might’ve!
“Any of our people killed or wounded, Mister Spendlove? Any ‘run’?” Lewrie asked.
“Not a one, sir, and all are now safely back aboard,” the Second Officer reported in a brisker tone.
“Good,” Lewrie said, “for we may have need of them.”
“Sir?” Spendlove asked.
“Since you all set off on the sixteenth, there’s been hints of something on the horizon, out seawards,” Lewrie explained. “I spoke Diomede and Raisonnable now and again on our patrols off the mouth of the estuary, and we’ve all spotted a single set o’ t’gallants or royals lurkin’ out t’sea. Round dawn, round sunset, and whatever sorta ship it is, it scuttles off soon as we stand out to ‘smoak’ her. She may be a Spanish merchantman, fearful of enterin’, some neutral afraid of what we are … an American worried we might press some of her hands off her? Or, it could be a warship. She stands aloof, either way, and if she is a warship, there might be a fight in the offing.”