The fort, where General Beresford had taken up his quarters, was an edifice of imposing appearance but of no great strength, situate in the centre of the river-face of the city. Its eastern front, which overlooked the river, was a semicircular pile of brickwork, rising from the water's edge some sixty feet above the average level of the river, and was pierced with embrasures from which the black mouths of cannon protruded. It was built in the massive style adopted by the Spaniards, but its chief strength consisted in the shallowness of the river, which prevented the near approach of any hostile squadron. In the rear of this semicircular casemate stood some brick buildings in which the Viceroy and his principal officers had apartments. Beyond these buildings was a flat, open space, which served as a parade ground, in the centre of which rose the flag-staff, on which the standard of Great Britain had now replaced the gaudy flag of Spain. The whole of these buildings and the parade ground were surrounded by a low brick wall, which was again surrounded by a wide, dry ditch, crossed in the centre of the western front of the fort by a drawbridge which through a wide gateway gave entrance to the stronghold from the Plaza de Los Perdices.
This Plaza was a wide, open space, about 150 yards across, where the country people daily brought their game, fruit and vegetables for sale to the citizens; it was thus the market place of the city. This wide, open space still exists, and is now known as the Plaza Veinte y Cinco de Mayo, but it is no longer used as a market. To the west of the Plaza de Los Perdices, facing the fort, stood two rows of shops, the flat roofs of which were prolonged over the causeways both in front and rear, and resting upon square brick pillars at the edge of the causeways, formed arcades, cut off from the buildings at the north and south the Plaza by roadways, which were the continuations of the two central streets of the city.
Between the two arcades there was an open space crossed by a towering arch of brickwork, having the appearance of a gigantic gateway, which gave passage from the Plaza de Los Perdices to the Plaza Mayor, which lay beyond. These two arcades with the archway were known as the "Recoba Vieja."
The Plaza Mayor was equal in size to the other, and was surrounded by buildings; half the western face being occupied by the "Cabildo"or Government House, a lofty building two storeys high, with balconies projecting in front of the windows of the upper storey, which storey also projected over the causeway in front of the Cabildo, resting upon massive brick pillars, and so forming another arcade, which occupied one half of this side the Plaza. Half the northern side the Plaza was occupied by the cathedral; the rest of the buildings around were ordinary houses mostly one storey high, those on the south side being also fronted by an arcade which covered the causeway, and gave the name of the "Recoba Nueva" to that side the Plaza.
The centre of the Plaza was unoccupied and unpaved, but carriages and horsemen being restricted to the sides, it was maintained in tolerably level condition, affording a pleasant promenade for the citizens in fine weather. All the buildings in both Plazas were of brick, plastered and whitewashed, the cathedral being surmounted by a mighty dome. The houses had large doorways and windows, but the latter were protected by iron railings.
General Beresford took up his quarters in the fort, where he occupied the apartments of the fugitive Viceroy; British soldiers occupied the casemates and the barracks of the troops, their scarlet uniforms were continually to be seen crossing the parade ground, and were by day plentifully sprinkled about the adjacent Plazas. Most of his troops Beresford cantoned in the houses about the Plaza Mayor; one strong detachment occupied the Cabildo. His enterprise so far had been attended with great success, but he did not disguise from himself that his situation was extremely critical, his force was too small to do more than overawe the city. All that he could do was to strengthen his position as much as possible and wait for reinforcements.
In furtherance of this plan he constructed temporary platforms and planted thirty guns on the parade ground at the fort, whose fire swept the Plaza de Los Perdices and commanded all its approaches; he drew breastworks across the entrances to the Plaza Mayor, and established a line of outposts, one strong detachment being stationed at the Retiro to the extreme north of the city, where on the high ground fronting the river stood a large edifice which had been built about a century previously by some English slave merchants, and used by them as a storehouse for their human merchandise. This storehouse had been more recently used as a barrack by the Spanish garrison of Buenos Aires. In front of it there was a large space of open ground some squares in extent; to the north of this open space stood a bull-ring, a large circular edifice very strongly built round an open arena. From this bull-ring the open space in front of the barracks was sometimes named the Plaza Toros, but its more usual name was the Plaza del Retiro.
Further, General Beresford sought in every way to conciliate the good-will of the inhabitants, preserving the strictest discipline among his soldiery, and paying liberally for all supplies. And the inhabitants of Buenos Aires apparently bore him no ill-will, treating him rather as a guest than as a conqueror, inviting him and his officers to tertulias at their houses, and accepting such hospitality as he could offer them in exchange. Conspicuous among the householders for their friendlytreatment of the English were Don Gregorio Lopez and his son-in-law Don Roderigo Ponce de Leon.
The Marquis of Sobremonte, Viceroy of Buenos Aires, in his hurried flight from the city, had an excuse in his anxiety to save the public treasure, which amounted to nearly a million and a half sterling in bullion and specie. At the Villa Lujan, a country town some fourteen leagues west of Buenos Aires, he was overtaken by a detachment sent by Beresford in pursuit, and fled without any attempt at resistance, abandoning the greater part of the treasure. The British detachment met with no opposition from the country people either in its march upon Lujan or on its return to the capital, and Beresford, after reserving sufficient specie for the pay and support of his troops for several months, embarked one million sterling on board the frigateNarcissus, which sailed at once for England.
The ground plan of the city of Buenos Aires resembles a chessboard, all the streets running either perpendicular to the course of the river—that is, due east and west, or parallel with it—that is, due north and south, crossing each other at right angles at distances of 150 varas. The city is thus cut up into square blocks of houses, each block being styled a manzana. Between the two streets which run out westwards from the Plaza Mayor, the two central streets of the city, and ten squares distant from this Plaza, one entire block was left vacant of buildings, and was in those days a mere open space of waste ground.
At the northern corner of the eastern side of this vacant space stood the house of Don Isidro Lorea. Don Isidro was a captain in the city militia. On the morning of the 26th June, when the English were advancing upon the city, he had mustered his men, had marched them to the fort, and had placed himself and them at the orders of the Marquis of Sobremonte. Later on he had marched them into the suburbs, and upon the near approach of the invaders had fled with them in confusion and dismay back to his own home. Don Isidro's ideas on military matters were vague in the extreme; previous to that day he had never seen a gun fired in anger; but he was no coward, and when the first effects of his terror had passed over he bitterly upbraided himself for his pusillanimity. Tears had stood in the eyes of his wife, Doña Dalmacia, as she had watched him march away, and she had spent the time during his absence on her knees in a neighbouring church, praying earnestly for his safety; but when he returned to her safe, sound, and vanquished, then those same eyes looked upon him in utter scorn and contempt, and his heart quailed within him even more than it had quailed at the sight of the British bayonets.
During those days of shame and despair which followed, Don Isidro nourished within his breast wild schemes of revenge and retaliation, and he eagerly associated himself with those who planned together the destruction of the small British force which held their city in thrall.
Yet weeks passed and nothing was attempted. As Don Gregorio Lopez had told them, their first necessity was a leader, and he to whom they all looked as a leader had gone from them. Liniers hadgone to Monte Video to seek the aid of Huidobro, who commanded in that city, telling them to make what preparations they could in the meantime, and that he would look to them for help on his return.
It was now the last week in July, a cold, clear, starlight night. In defiance of the orders of General Beresford, and in despite of British patrols, there was much going to and fro in the streets of the city that night; a rumour had gone forth that Huidobro, a man of very different stamp to Sobremonte, had received Liniers with open arms and had at once placed all his disposable military force under his command, and that Liniers was coming back with what speed he could. This news created a great ferment throughout the city, each man wishing to know the certainty of what he had only vaguely heard, and seeking information from others who were no better informed than himself.
The house of Don Isidro Lorea was divided into two distinct parts, the part occupying the corner of the block being used as the almacen (a general store), of which the main entrance looked upon the open ground, while several windows opened upon the adjacent street. The other half was the dwelling-house, and had a separate entrance, a massive doorway opening on the waste ground, which gave entrance through a zaguan to a large, brick-paved patio, surrounded by the principal rooms of the household. Three windows to the left of the doorway gave light to the principal room of all, the sala, at one end of which there was a smaller room known as the ante-sala, which was frequently used by Don Isidro as his private office. All the exterior windows of both house and almacen were guarded by massive iron "rejas," bars set in the brickwork, which prevented all clandestine entrance into the house.
On this night the door of the dwelling-house was fast closed, but anyone rapping with his knuckles at the door of the almacen would have found it open to him forthwith. Many did so knock on that night, and passing in, went out again by a side door into the patio of the dwelling-house, and thence to the sala, or to the ante-sala, as seemed to them good. The folding doors between the two rooms were thrown wide open, so that the two rooms were as one, and there was much passing to and fro between them. The sala was a large, richly furnished apartment, with spindle-shanked chairs and tables, and much gaudy frippery in the way of ornament. Here Doña Dalmacia sat in state, with a heavy velvet mantle thrown over her shoulders. She was a stout, handsome woman, something over thirty years of age, but was of that class of woman who preserves her good looks till long past maturity, her complexion being of that clear olive which looks perfectly white by candlelight, while the beauty of her chiselled features and dark flashing eyes age might impair, but would not destroy. Here she sat in state, talking eagerly and proudly with the men who thronged around her—chiefly young men, who had but one thought in their hearts, but one subject upon which they could converse—the expulsion of the English.
"Ah, Don Marcelino," she said in clear ringing tones, as Marcelino Ponce de Leon entered the room, "I have not seen you for weeks, but I know you have not been idle; tell me what have you done. The day is very near now."
"I kiss your feet, Misia Dalmacia," answered Marcelino, as he bowed low before her. "We have not lost our time; we have collected and armed nearly 1000 men, and they are near at hand when they are wanted. I have come in to hear what is doing, and to you I come first."
"You have done well, for I can tell you something which will rejoice you. Isidro has a note from Liniers dated a week back, he was then leaving Monte Video with 1000 troops, all fully equipped, and has probably by this reached Colonia. Vessels will meet him there to bring him to Las Conchas, so he may be here any day now."
"Viva, Liniers!" said Marcelino; "he will find us ready, and then——" His flashing eyes and clenched hands supplied the hiatus in his words.
"But, Don Marcelino, be cautious yet," said Doña Dalmacia. "We have done what we can to amuse these English, but this Beresford is a crafty fox, and has his suspicions."
"And there are traitors among us who sell news to him for gold," said a short, stout man, who stood near by, Don Felipe Navarro by name, a brother of Doña Dalmacia.
"Yes, you must not let anyone know where your men are," added Doña Dalmacia; "only be ready. If Beresford hears of your preparations he will attack you before Liniers can land."
"Let him," said Marcelino disdainfully. "We will be ready for him if he ventures outside the city. We have formed an encampment at the Quinta de Perdriel, if he comes there we will know how to send him back again."
"That is very near," said Doña Dalmacia.
"The less distance we have to march when the day comes the better," answered Marcelino. "But you city people, what have you done?" added he, turning to Don Felipe Navarro.
"Every house will send out a soldier, and every azotea will be a battery when the fire commences," replied Don Felipe.
"We have two cannon hid in the almacen, and plenty of ammunition," said Doña Dalmacia. "Isidro has all his arrangements complete. This house is the headquarters for all the neighbourhood, and when he fires off two rockets, at any hour of the day or night, 200 men will meet here."
A mulatta girl entered the room bearing a silver salver with cups of chocolate, which she handed round to the guests, and as they sipped the chocolate Marcelino listened to many a strange tale about the English. Don Isidro Lorea was very anxious to get rid of the English, but while they were there his tradesman's instincts prompted him to cultivate friendly relations with them. He had never before found such good customers, and in the daytime Doña Dalmacia had frequently parties of officers in her sala, with whom she conversed in very roundabout fashion, finding much amusement in teaching them to suck mate, and gleaning what information she could from them concerning the dispositions and intentions of their chief. Many shrewd remarks she made, and heartily she laughed as she told of the ludicrous mistakes they made in attempting polite speeches to her.
"But withal," she said, "they are not bad sort of people; it gives sorrow to me to think that they are enemies and—heretics."
"Little it matters to me that they are heretics," said Marcelino. "For my part I believe there is more than one way to heaven."
"Your friend Don Carlos Evaña appears very intimate with them," said Don Isidro, who had come from the outer room as they were speaking.
Don Isidro was of short stature and of light, active build, with very clear complexion, aquiline nose, and jet-black hair and beard, the latter falling in glossy waves down on to his chest. His manners were very polished, and he had a great habit of gesticulating with his hands as he talked.
"Ah! Don Isidro, buenas noches," said Marcelino, as he turned quickly and gave him his hand; "I thought you were not at home. Yes, I should think it probable that Don Carlos would be intimate with them, but what of that?"
"It is not well that a man should be intimate with the enemies of his country."
"Don Carlos has told us that in this affair he will take no part. He has lived in England and speaks their language well. Doña Dalmacia tells me that you are all doing what you can to amuse them; he is better able to amuse them than any of you."
"We amuse the officers, but the general seems to care little for amusement, he is doing all he can to strengthen his position, and seems to know exactly where to meet us. I tell you, Don Marcelino, there are traitors amongst us."
As Don Isidro said this he stretched out both his hands with the palms upwards and stamped his foot on the ground, looking somewhat defiantly at Don Marcelino. The latter flushed to the roots of his hair, but smiling to conceal his annoyance, he answered in a light tone:
"It may be so, of that kind of people there are always too many. Find them out and shut their mouths for them, that is all the advice I can give you."
"If you and the others would have taken my advice, the Señor Evaña would have been forced to leave the city, and there would be one traitor the less walking amongst us to-day. What does he here, aiding us in nothing, and holding conferences every day with the English general?"
"How!" said Marcelino, now really angry. "Have you yet that absurd idea in your head? I tell you again, Don Isidro, that as I know my own honour so I know that of my friend Carlos Evaña. To walk among you and to tell of your preparations to the English is to be a spy, and if you apply that word to my friend you will answer to me."
"I know you, Don Marcelino, and I know that there is not one man amongst us of a sounder heart than you, but every man is liable to be deceived, and your friendship blinds you to——"
"Isidro!" said Doña Dalmacia interrupting her husband. "Basta! in these circumstances it is not meet that those who are working in the good cause should quarrel."
"The intimate friend of General Beresford——"
"Isidro!" exclaimed Doña Dalmacia, again interrupting her husband.
"Thou also!" said Don Isidro; then shrugging his shoulders, and clapping his hands on his hips, he made a low inclination with his head to Don Marcelino and returned to the ante-sala.
Marcelino returned his salutation with rigid formality; then taking Don Felipe Navarro by the arm he led him to a retired corner of the sala, where he questioned him earnestly concerning the treachery thus plainly imputed to his friend.
"One thing is certain," said Don Felipe, "Don Carlos is very intimate with General Beresford, hardly a day passes but he spends some hours with him, and they have often long private conversations together. We have our spies, and know everything that the English do, but we do not know what the general and Don Carlos find to talk about."
"I will ask him, and you may be sure he will tell me. But from what you say Don Carlos makes no effort to hide his friendship for the English general."
"Not the slightest."
"Then that is proof at once. Spies walk in darkness, and do not go to visit their employers in broad daylight."
"But Don Carlos makes no secret of his opinions. He counsels us to make friends of the English, and openly speaks of freeing us with their help from Spain. That is treason against our lord the king."
"Against the king I say nothing; but Spain is our tyrant, and Spaniards come here only to plunder us. Don Carlos shows his patriotism by his enmity to Spain, and his patriotism is guarantee that he will never prove false to us who are his countrymen."
"But further, he is an enemy to the holy mother Church, he never goes to Mass, and scoffs at the priests; he is an infidel, a heretic—from a man like that one may suspect anything."
"One should suspect no man without proofs," said Marcelino, turning away. Then after taking leave with great cordiality of Doña Dalmacia and of those about her he went on to the ante-sala.
"Don Isidro," said he, "I am going to see my friend Don Carlos Evaña. I shall tell him plainly that he is suspected, and advise him to avoid the society of these English for the present."
"You will not find him," said Don Isidro; "Beresford gives a dinner to-day at the fort to the authorities, and to some of our principal men; naturally his great friend will be there."
"I doubt it," said one of the visitors, who had been talking to Don Isidro; "Don Carlos never goes anywhere where he is likely to meet Spaniards."
"My father will be at the fort," said Marcelino.
"I know he is, and the two Don Gregorios also," said another; "I saw them go together."
"Then I will go and see my mother. I have avoided our house whenever I have been in the city, for I feared to compromise my father."
"You have done well," said Don Isidro. "More than once I have been asked by English officers whether I knew anything of the eldestson of Don Roderigo Ponce de Leon. If you go to-night you will see some of them there, there are always English officers there in the evenings, tertulias are things of every day. As your father will not fight them, Doña Constancia does her part in amusing them."
"Hum!" said Marcelino. "I do not wish to meet any of them until we meet sword in hand."
"No fear," said another; "the officers will be all on duty to-night."
"I will go at any rate," said Marcelino. "I may meet Carlos there, so good-night to you all untiltheday."
But Don Isidro would not let him depart thus coldly, he sprang to his feet, and grasping him warmly by the hand said:
"Before many days we will meet again; meantime, warn your friend that he keep within his own house and I guarantee you that no harm shall come to him."
Marcelino found no difficulty in reaching his father's house, his name was his passport. He walked boldly along the streets, met several patrols of British soldiery, was questioned by them, but was immediately permitted to pass on, as he gave his name, speaking in English, and told them where he was going. As he drew near he heard sounds of music; in the first patio he found several English soldiers muffled in their grey great-coats, unarmed, walking up and down and joking in a rough, good-humoured way with the mulatta girls and negresses, the servants of his father's household.
"What are you women doing here?" asked Marcelino sternly.
"The night is fine, and the Señora permits us to watch the dancing," answered one.
"It is Don Marcelino," whispered another. "What joy for the Señora; I will run and tell her."
"Stay where you are; I want to see who are here first." So saying Marcelino went up to one of the sala doors, and opening it softly looked in.
His mother was seated on a sofa at the far end, conversing gaily with an English officer, whose massive epaulets showed him to be one who held a high command. Other ladies sat about the sides of the room, most of whom had one or two cavaliers in attendance, while the centre of the room was filled with a crowd of dancers, of whom some half-dozen wore the scarlet uniforms of Great Britain. The dance was one of those formal square dances then much in vogue, and a flush of pleasure spread over Marcelino's face as he looked upon the graceful forms flitting to and fro. As he looked there came a pause in the dance, and the smile that was on his face vanished in a frown. At the head of the room, standing conspicuously side by side under the full glare of a chandelier of wax lights, were two upon whom his gaze was riveted at once. One was a British officer, in the scarlet jacket and tartan trews of a Highland regiment. He had the yellow hair, clear skin, blue eyes, and reddish whiskers of a Lowland Scot. The other was his own sister Dolores.
One looking casually upon these two might have taken them for brother and sister, there was so much likeness between them, but a second look would have shown an essential difference. Dolores Ponce de Leon was remarkable for the small size of her hands and feet, andfor the delicate moulding of her features. The hands and feet of her partner, though well formed, were large, and his features were somewhat coarse—there was more of strength than of elegance in his appearance. No one after a careful scrutiny could have taken them for brother and sister, they were types of two branches of one great race, the Anglo-Saxons of Great Britain, the Goths of Spain.
Again closing the door, Marcelino walked away to his own room in an inner part of the house, saying to the same girl to whom he had before spoken—
"When these go, tell my mother that I have returned."
When he reached his own room he clapped his hands, at which summons an aged negro presented himself.
"Ah! Patroncito Marcelino," said the old negro as he saw him; "so much as the Señora has hoped for you, and no one could tell where you were. The Patron said you would be back in a few days, but now it is weeks. In what can I be of service to your Señoria?"
"Have you seen Don Carlos Evaña to-day?"
"I saw the Señor Evaña not half-an-hour ago, when I went in with a tray of dulces."
"Go and tell him that I am come, but do not let anyone else hear what you say."
The meeting between Marcelino Ponce de Leon and his friend Don Carlos Evaña was very cordial; they embraced like brothers. Then Don Carlos proceeded to question Marcelino concerning all that he had done during the past three weeks. To every question Marcelino answered unreservedly, Evaña listening to him with a tender light playing in his usually stern eyes, and an approving smile upon his lips.
"How I envy you," he said, as the other paused, his face glowing with enthusiasm.
"Why do you not join us? You are more clever and braver than I am. Ah! how willingly I would serve under you. The chiefs we have are zealous enough but very few of them have any brains. I have no experience, but I can see the follies they do; one man like you were worth more than all the rest put together."
"Of all those you have named to me, Don Juan Martin and yourself seem the only ones at all fitted to command," replied Evaña. "Why are you only a subordinate?"
"There is so much jealousy among them, all want to command, so I thought I should set a good example by showing how to obey."
"Would there were more like you," said Evaña, with a sigh.
"There would be one more and one better than me, if you would only join us," replied Marcelino.
"It may not be, I have vowed my life to one work, the Independence of my native country. So long as Spain claims dominion over these provinces I have only one aim in life, and there is only one enemy against whom I will raise my hand."
"Yet, cannot you see, Carlos, that in this struggle with the English we shall train our men and make soldiers of them, and so prepare them for a fiercer struggle which must come later on?"
"What you have told me teaches me, even if I did not know it before, that the worst misfortune which can happen to us is to triumph over these English."
"How so? We shall at any rate gain experience and confidence in our own strength."
"And ignorance of our own weakness; that is the danger I foresee," said Evaña. "It will be painful to me to see my own countrymen defeated by a foreigner, but believe me, Marcelino, it will be thegreatest good that can happen to our country, if it teach us that success can only be gained by self-abnegation."
"Let the Spaniards then be our teachers, not these English, who are strangers to us."
"I have talked much with their General Beresford during the last month," said Evaña.
"So I have been told," said Marcelino abruptly.
"You have been told? My wise countrymen with their childish plots, and their schemes which anyone can see through, object to my intimacy with the English general. Is it not so?"
"It is, Carlos. Is it well that you should be a friend to the enemy of your country?"
"I seek to destroy that enemy by making him our friend."
"The English have taken our city by force, so long as they behave themselves as conquerors we must look upon them as enemies."
"You will find them stern enemies to grapple with. Your preparations only make my work more difficult. Beresford may listen to reason, but he will meet force with force, and he is well informed of all your movements."
"Yes, Carlos, there are traitors amongst us, and it was about that I wished to talk with you. Do not go any more to visit General Beresford; shut yourself in your own house, or leave the city, there are many suspect you."
"Suspect me! And of what?"
"Of being a spy of the English."
"A spy! Me a spy of the English! Can you sit there quietly, Marcelino, and say that to me?" exclaimed Evaña, springing to his feet.
"I know you, Carlos, therefore I can sit here quietly and tell you of it, for I know that it is false. I did not sit quietly when they told me."
"Who are they?"
"Nay, that I will not tell you, this is no time for quarrels among ourselves. But I have told them that whoever applies that word to you shall answer to me for the slander. Yet I ask you for your own sake to hold no more conversations with the English general. You only expose yourself to calumny, and your efforts will be all in vain. We cannot look upon these English as friends so long as they hold our city."
"Then you will turn them out if you can, and will make enemies of them, for they will not forgive a defeat. You will give yourselves back bound hand and foot to the Spaniards."
"Carlos, my friend, believe me, it is too late to reason now. Liniers is near at hand, and the whole city and province is ready for a rising. If Beresford had come here offering us friendship and alliance against Spain we might have joined him, or at least remained neutral, now it is too late."
"Too late! no, it is not too late yet. I will see Beresford again for the last time. He knows of all your preparations, for he has his spies, though I am not one of them, but he makes light of what you can do, the man he fears is Liniers, and it is against him that he is onthe watch. I will show him that your aid to either side will turn the scale, then perhaps he may decide at once for an alliance withus."
The two friends talked little more together that night, the room door was opened by an eager hand, Doña Constancia and Dolores came in, and in the joy of meeting them again Marcelino thought no more of the projects of his friend Evaña, but spoke only of the speedy expulsion of the English from their city.
The next day, in the forenoon, Don Carlos Evaña left his house and walked through the city to the Plaza Mayor, and thence to the fort, where he inquired for General Beresford. On his way he had met and passed many of his countrymen; sometimes they stood in groups at street corners, or at the doors of almacenes talking together, sometimes they were walking hurriedly along; on all their faces there was only one expression, an expression of suppressed excitement and anticipation. With some of them he exchanged salutations, some of them looked another way, affecting not to see him, none of them accosted him; he felt himself thrust out from among them, he knew that he had no share in the one thought which occupied all hearts, and his heart grew bitter within him.
"A spy!" he muttered to himself, as he folded his cloak more closely round him; "when I do but seek to prevent them forging fresh fetters for themselves. The fools!"
"There goes Evaña to visit the friend," said one as he turned into a street leading to the Plaza Mayor; and they to whom this man spoke gave him no salutation, and looked after him, as he passed on, scowlingly.
General Beresford was writing, but was not particularly occupied for the moment, and rose smilingly to meet Evaña as he entered his apartment, stretching out his hand to him in welcome. Evaña took his hand somewhat coldly, and laying his hat on a table seated himself.
"You do well to keep your cloak on," said Beresford, walking up and down, and stamping his feet upon the tiled floor. "There is one thing of which you Porteños have no notion, and that is how to make yourselves comfortable in cold weather. Look here at this large, half-empty room without a fireplace, how can you expect a Christian to live in such a room in such weather as this? Why in England the horses are better lodged than you are here. There is not a window that fits tight, and as for the doors, they seem made on purpose to let the wind in instead of keeping it out. It comes in from both doors and windows in little gusts which would give a horse his death of cold, to say nothing of a man."
"Yet we don't die quicker than other people, that I can see," replied Evaña; "our city is noted for its healthiness."
"That you owe to the Pampero, as you call this south-west wind, which clears the air for you about once a month, and a very good wind it is in its way, but of the best things it is possible to have too much. It was awfully cold when I inspected the troops this morning; some of the men looked blue with the cold and could hardly hold their muskets, this wind goes through you like a knife. I don't object to it on the parade ground once in a way, but I do object to it most decidedly in my own room. I must have something done to these windows, hear how they rattle."
"Unless you make up your mind quickly to some decisive action they will not annoy you much longer," replied Evaña.
"Ha, ha, my friend!" said Beresford; "that is your little game, is it? I thought you looked unusually solemn this morning. That Frenchman of yours, Liniers, is coming with a pack of Spanish curs behind him to pitchfork me into the sea. When may we expect his Excellency?"
"I think you know when to expect him better than I can tell you."
"Well, perhaps I do, but you see I am not trembling in my shoes yet."
"You are not afraid of Liniers, and you have no cause to fearhim."
"Then who is this dreadful enemy who is more to be feared than the mighty Liniers?"
"The people of Buenos Aires."
General Beresford paused in his walk up and down the room and looked earnestly at Evaña, and a grave look came over his face as he slowly answered:
"You mean what you say?"
Evaña merely bowed his head in reply, and Beresford renewed his pacing up and down, evidently in deep thought. Then pausing again he resumed:
"I know it. This apathy, of which you have spoken to me so much, is a mask. I have sources of information of which you know nothing. I know that these shopkeepers have their deposits of arms, and that hordes of gauchos are assembling outside. It will be necessary to give them a lesson, and yet you would fain have persuaded me that they were my friends."
"They might have been."
"And my allies, too? I want no such allies. Liniers would send them flying with one volley of musketry, as I did a month ago."
"That they fled from you then was because they had no heart in the cause. Why should they fight for Spain? I tell you that if you fight them again you will find them a much more stubborn foe. Shopkeepers you call them and gauchos!" said Evaña, rising to his feet; "you will find that whatever be their occupation they are men. The next time you set your bull-dogs on them they will not turn like frightened sheep, but will meet you foot to foot and hand to hand. Do I not know them? They are my countrymen! What have you done since you have been here but insult them? Even your civility and the strict discipline you keep among your men is an insult to them. One does not waste polite speeches on a friend, nor are soldiers kept to their quarters when they are living in a friendly city. You have your outposts keeping watch upon all their movements; you have your patrols, who prevent free transit about the streets at night. Every means you take to show them that they are conquered; but they know that they are not conquered—they know that they have never measured their strength with you yet. You despise them, but I tell you that if you persist in making them your enemies you will find them more dangerous than Liniers and his Spaniards. They will not drive you into the sea, but they will tear you to pieces where you stand."
"Sit down, sit down, do not get excited," said Beresford quietly. "I am not afraid of the raw levies they can bring against me, but I have no wish to try their strength. What I have done in the way of outposts and patrols is a necessity."
"You are a soldier, and act on military rules," said Evaña, resuming his seat. "If you wish success to your enterprise, you must learn to be a diplomatist as well as a soldier."
"And with whom shall I treat? To whom can I address myself?"
"To the people, in a public declaration that you make war only on the Spaniards."
"Even if I could make such a declaration—for which allow me to remind you that, as I have told you before, I have no authority—my words would be but as words spoken to the wind. Who is there that can give me any answer, or can come forward to treat with me?"
"No one," answered Evaña, with a sigh; "but your words would not be spoken to the wind, they would speak to the hearts of men, and would disarm those who are now arming against you."
"Look you, Señor Evaña, the Home Government knows nothing of this expedition; it is an affair entirely arranged by Sir Home Popham and myself. We have taken your city from the Spaniards, and intend to hold it until we get instructions from England. Our Government has no wish to take possession of this country, but they wish to open these rivers to our commerce. Go you and two more of your principal men to England, and arrange an alliance for yourselves with Great Britain. You will be well received by Mr Fox; he is an enthusiast about liberty of the people, and so forth. With Pitt you would have had no chance, but there is no telling, these Whigs might like the idea of a liberal crusade in South America, and of serving the Spaniards as the French served us. I do not see why you should not be independent of Spain; you are quite strong enough to stand by yourselves, if you only knew it."
"I do know it, and I know that without our aid you cannot hold our city against Liniers and his Spaniards, therefore I come to show you how you may make an alliance with us."
"You know it yourself, but your countrymen do not know it; they have grown up from childhood with a blind reverence for Spain. Nine-tenths of them would think it treason to enter into any alliance with me, therefore I will not ask it of them; all I ask of them is that they keep neutral."
"To remain neutral would be to forfeit our rights as men. My countrymen will not tamely look on while you and the Spaniards arrange between you who is to rule over us. We claim the casting vote in the dispute. Offer us your aid to achieve our independence, we will treat with you, and you shall be our guest; if you refuse it, you are but a foreigner and an enemy, and we will thrust you forth."
"With whom shall I treat? With you? You have no influence with them; first, because you are little known, and secondly, because you are my friend. With the municipality? Its powers are ill-defined; I could but treat with its members as with private individuals, besides which they are Spaniards. With Don GregorioLopez, or with any other of the wealthy Creoles? What I might arrange with them might be all cancelled by the first popular government you might appoint. No, Señor Evaña, you are a man who has studied much in books, but you have not studied men as I have. I can make no treaty, except with some recognised authority, and no such authority exists among you. A declaration from me as general of the British army it is beyond the scope of my commission to give; but you know my opinion concerning the feasibility of achieving your independence, and I have told you that the Government of Great Britain would be likely to look upon the project with favour, if it were properly represented to them. Now is the time for you to strike a blow for your independence yourselves; turn your armed levies against Liniers when he arrives with his Spaniards, then you will make yourselves my allies, though there can as yet be no treaty between us. You shake your head, you cannot do it! Then allow me to tell you, my friend, that you were born too soon. Men who will not fight for their own freedom are not yet ripe for independence."
To this Evaña answered nothing for a space, but rising from his chair, commenced to walk with hasty strides about the room, while Beresford, seating himself at his desk, took up his pen and went on calmly with some writing on which he had been engaged when Evaña entered. Ten minutes so elapsed, then Evaña stopped in front of Beresford, and laying one hand on the table, said:
"Can I, then, promise that you will aid us?"
"I can promise nothing officially, personally, there is nothing I should like better."
"Too late! too late!" said Evaña, in a bitter tone. "Our men are eager for the struggle, nothing but an open declaration from you will now give me any influence with them."
"Yea, there is something else may bring them to their senses," said Beresford, laying down his pen. "They were panic-struck when they first saw me, now they have got used to the sight of red coats, and they have got back some stomach for fighting, they want a lesson to cure them of their new mania for playing at soldiers. They have had the folly to collect a strong force of their levies not far from here, right under my nose, as it were, but where they are I do not exactly know. Where are they?"
"Nay, do not ask me," replied Evaña.
"Though you will not tell me I shall easily find it out, and you may tell them, if you like, that I am going to beat up their quarters; but I would advise you to do nothing of the kind, unless you think they would wait for me."
"So that you may massacre them with your disciplined troops."
"There shall be no unnecessary bloodshed, I shall merely disperse them and send them off to their homes, where they will be much more safe than in trying to help Liniers to hoist the Spanish flag on that staff outside there. Plenty of them will die if they try to do that."
"If I can bring six or eight of our principal men here, will you tell them that you will do your best to aid us in freeing ourselves from Spain?"
"I will tell them what I have told you, that I myself would gladlyjoin you if I had a commission to that effect, and that I believe the British Government would receive the idea very favourably. But I tell you now, that you will not get six or eight men to listen to me, whom I would care to speak to."
"Not now perhaps, but they may," replied Evaña, with some hesitation.
"Yes, when they have had a lesson to show them their weakness."
"You will give them that lesson, you say?"
"Yes, but Liniers should be at Colonia by now, if my advices are correct. There is no time to lose if we are to come to any understanding together. Once Liniers joins them, to me all are alike Spaniards."
"Will you promise me that your troops shall not fire upon them?"
"I do not think I shall go myself, I shall probably send Colonel Pack, his orders will be to disperse them. If he finds it necessary he will fire, not otherwise."
Evaña turned from him and walked to the far end of the room, where he stood for some moments at a window, gazing with dreamy eyes out upon the parade-ground, where British sentries in long grey coats paced between the Spanish guns which had so recently changed owners; upon the Plaza de Los Perdices, where the market-people moved to and fro among their stalls; and further yet upon the towers and domes of the churches of his native city.
"The day is close at hand," said he to himself. "This man does not see his danger, though I tell him of it. He will fight like a lion at bay, but that flag with the red and blue crosses will come down, and that hated flag, the flag of tyranny, will go up there again. If there were division among them he might have some chance, and as he says there is no time to lose, even to-morrow Liniers may land and it will be too late, to-day is already the last day in July. Besides, I shall not save them any way, he has spies."
As he said this, his whole frame trembled with suppressed passion.
"Yes, they want a lesson, the fools," he muttered through his teeth. Then turning back to Beresford, he looked him sternly in the face.
"The Quinta de Perdriel, do you know where that is?"
"Yes," answered Beresford.
"There it is that your pupils await you."
A smile flitted over the face of the English general as he bowed in reply. Evaña without another word left the room and walked with hasty strides away to his own home.
Don Carlos Evaña spent the afternoon, evening, and night of the 31st July shut in his own apartments, seeing no one, studying not at all, reading by fits and starts, and knowing nothing of what he read, thinking always. He could not sleep; before dawn he mounted to his azotea, hoping by exercise to weary himself to sleep.
His house stood in the same block as that of Don Gregorio Lopez. As he looked round him he saw a stout figure wrapped up in a thick woollen poncho, standing on the azotea of Don Gregorio's house, he crossed two other houses and went up to him, it was Don Gregorio himself.
"Buenos dias, Carlos," said Don Gregorio; "you are early abroad in spite of the cold."
"Milagro!" replied Evaña; "it is a frequent custom of mine to pass the night in study, and then to breathe the morning air before I go to bed."
"A most abominable custom, my friend," said Don Gregorio. "The night is made dark on purpose that men may sleep, when the sun shines then is the time for all work."
"I find the quiet of night very favourable to study, one is not liable to interruption when all others are asleep."
"That is one of the ideas you have brought with you from the Old World. Like many of your ideas it is out of place in the New."
"My ideas are out of place solely because they are new," replied Evaña; "but the new will be old when their time comes."
"True. Some day you will be as old as I am, Carlos; perhaps, I should say, for if you pass your nights without sleep continuously you will never reach my age. If you ever do, you will know by then that all rapid and violent changes are out of place, not only in the Old World but in the New also."
"Violent changes are at times necessary, Don Gregorio. Without violence change is frequently impossible, and change is one of the conditions of our existence."
"Change is one of the laws of Nature," replied Don Gregorio; "but the changes of Nature proceed gradually. Watch them in the trees; from bud to leaf, from leaf to flower, from flower to fruit, then fall the leaves and the tree rests for the winter. When spring comes again another series of change commences, and from year to year the tree increases in size and beauty."
"Till the day comes," said Evaña, as Don Gregorio paused, "when a storm tears up the old tree by the roots and it gives place to younger trees. Your simile does not hold good, Don Gregorio; even Nature finds violence a necessity at times to remove some obstruction to her invariable law of progress. These fierce storms which at times sweep over our city cause great damage and suffering while they last, but without them neither trees nor men would flourish."
"True, but Nature does not work blindly, she knows what will be the result of the storms she sends upon us. Do you know, Carlos, what will be the result of the storm you would fain raise amongst us?"
"I do. The result will be the birth of a great nation."
"If the nation is to be, it is born already, but it is not yet strong enough to walk alone."
"And therefore requires assistance," said Evaña.
"We shall know before long what sort of assistance we may expect from your friends the English. I was awakened an hour ago by their trampling along the street; they do not treat us very much like friends."
"Some patrol, I suppose."
"No patrol at all, but an expedition."
"A reconnaissance, probably, into the suburbs."
"A reconnoitring party would not take guns with them."
"Guns!" said Evaña, with an involuntary shudder of apprehension; "what direction did they take?"
"Westward. I have no doubt that they have gone to wake up our friends at Perdriel. Marcelino is there, so, as you may imagine, I am very anxious. It is that has brought me so early to the azotea."
Evaña turned away sick at heart. Marcelino was in danger, the English must anticipate resistance, or they would not take guns with them. Evaña knew the daring spirit of his friend; with raw levies of men, the whole brunt of the fighting, if there were any, would be borne by such as he. He had brought this danger upon him, he had not even attempted to warn him of it. Marcelino had reposed such confidence in him that he had told him of all their plans, and had confided in him as though he were one of themselves, though he had openly refused to join them. He had stood forth alone to defend him when treachery was imputed to him; he had taken as an insult to himself a calumny which was a calumny no longer. Evaña shivered, but it was not with cold, as he folded his cloak more closely round him. Two or three turns he took on the azotea, then going back to Don Gregorio, the two paced up and down for some time in silence, side by side. In thoughts and ideas they were wide apart, but one great anxiety was common to both, and though they spoke no more they were well content to be together, the presence of each was to the other as a mute sympathy.
Presently, as the dawning day broke over the city which lay around them, there came to them from afar off the crackling sound of an irregular fire of musketry, which lasted about ten minutes, when there came the louder report of a cannon, then all was still. As minute after minute passed and there was no further sound of fighting, Evaña breathed more freely.
"It is all over now," said he to Don Gregorio.
"So it appears," replied the elder gentleman. "Thank God, there has not been much of it."
"I will go and see what has happened," said Evaña.
"Do, Carlos, and bring me word as soon as you return."
Evaña descended at once to his own house, and going to an inner patio where his horse was tied under a shed, he saddled him himself, led him out into the street, mounted, and rode off. As he passed along he saw many men looking out from the doors of their houses, stopping the market-people or the milkmen as they trotted in on their mules and raw-boned horses, and questioning them. He drew rein once or twice and listened to what was said, but the information he thus gleaned amounted to nothing at all, so pressing his horse to a sharp canter he went on more rapidly, had passed the suburbs and was among the quintas, when again he heard the sound of musketry. This time it was no longer the irregular dropping fire of skirmishers, it was the regular file firing of trained infantry hotly engaged, and presently mingled with it came the thunder of artillery.
Evaña drove his spurs into his horse's flanks and galloped on at full speed, but ere he reached the scene of action the firing had ceased, and light clouds of grey smoke drifting away were all that he could see of the recent conflict. Passing a hollow without slacking speed, he was soon on the open ground, and Perdriel lay before him.
Pickets of grey-coated infantry were marching away from him, while beyond the plain was dotted with flying horsemen. Now and then one of these pickets would halt, there was a shimmer of glistening steel as their muskets fell to the "present," there was a flash of fire and a light cloud of smoke, then on marched the infantry as before. Further and further away galloped the horsemen, and Evaña saw that the rout of his own countrymen was complete.
He knew that it would be so, he had said that their victory would be a misfortune, but the sight was not pleasant to him. He felt that he would rather himself have been one of those panic-stricken horsemen, flying for their lives after hazarding them for their country, than be as he now was, a passive spectator of the scene.
He galloped on till he reached the spot where he saw for the first time the immediate result of the "pastime of kings." Around him on the frosted grass lay some threescore of his own countrymen, dead or dying. Some lay peacefully stretched out on their backs or faces as though they were asleep; some with their limbs doubled up beneath them, and their bodies twisted into strange contortions; some lay crushed under their dead horses. Some few there were who were sitting up, striving in a helpless manner to stanch the blood from some deep wound which was draining their life away. Forcing his frightened horse to carry him into the midst of this scene of horror, Evaña, his heart wildly beating with a terror hitherto unknown to him, gazed eagerly around looking for something which he felt he could willingly give up his own life not to find, the body of his friend Marcelino. His search was unsuccessful, the bodies lying round him were all those of swarthy, long-haired, coarsely-dressed paisanos. Turning rein, and heeding nothing the cries of the wounded who called wildly upon him for assistance and for water, he again drove his spurs into his horse'sflank and galloped to the quinta, which he saw was occupied by British troops.
Two hours before dawn that morning was a mustering of men in the Plaza Mayor, no drums beat to arms, no trumpets sounded; silently the men took their places in the ranks, each man with his firelock on his shoulder, and his cartridge-box strapped on outside his grey overcoat, but without knapsack. They were in light marching order, and had been told off the night before for some special service which required secrecy and speed. There were about 500 of them, and they had two guns with them.
When all was ready the officer in command, who was mounted on a small horse, gave the word to march, and away they went at a quick step along the quiet, darksome streets out westward. Light sleepers were awakened from their dreams by the heavy tramp of armed men, and the rumbling of the wheels of cannon. Windows were opened, and men half asleep gazed forth from between the "rejas" on the long lines of grey-coated figures, who went swiftly by in the darkness, their eyes dwelling more especially with a sort of dreamy fascination upon the sloped barrels of the muskets, and on the polished bayonets which glinted in the clear rays of the stars.
After marching about a mile and a half the detachment emerged from the main city into the suburbs, where the streets were no longer continuous lines of houses, but were bordered by gardens and orchards, then the street itself merged into a broad track, along which here and there, on either hand, stood detached buildings, some of them large, square, solidly-built houses, with flat, battlemented roofs, and with reja-protected windows; but more of them were mere huts of mud and wattle, with thatched roofs and no windows, save perhaps a square hole in the wall closed at night-time by a wooden shutter. When there were no houses there the road was bordered by a shallow ditch, on the inside of which, on the top of the mound formed by the earth which had been thrown out of the ditch, was planted an irregular fence of aloes, whose broad, sharp-pointed leaves presented a formidable obstacle in the way of any intruder. These fences enclosed the gardens of the men who furnished the Plaza de Los Perdices with its daily supply of fruit and vegetables, these thatched houses were their dwellings. Some of them were already stirring as the troops passed, and were busy fixing panniers of raw hide upon the backs of long-eared mules, or filling these panniers with such produce as their gardens could produce at that season. The unwonted appearance of troops marching on the road caused them no surprise; they were men who were not in the habit of being astonished at anything. They paused for a moment in their work to look after the troops, observing one to another:
"The English! What do they, that they get up so early?"
Then straightway resuming their occupations they thought no more of them.
About a mile the grey-coated soldiers marched through these fenced gardens, which joined on to one another, or were separated only by an occasional roadway, till they came to a new region of "quintas,"which were only gardens such as those they had passed, but on a larger scale, divided one from another by wide open spaces of pasture-land. Here they frequently saw horses picketed, or cows lay chewing the cud, and gazing upon them with soft, sleepy eyes. The road was nothing but a broad, beaten track running between these quintas, cut up with deep ruts made by the wheels of heavy carts, but firm under foot, hardened to the hardness of stone by the frosts of winter. At some of these quintas boys were already driving up cows from the pasture towards rows of white posts standing outside the quinta fences, where other cows were tied, and women were busy milking.
In a hollow the troops were halted. At the head of the column had marched the light company of the 71st Highlanders, under the command of its captain, who had two lieutenants with him. As they halted, the commanding officer rode up to the head of the column.
"Gordon," said he, to one of the lieutenants, "you have been here before, and know something of the ground. We are close to Perdriel now, I believe."
"Yes, sir. It is just over the rise lying a little to the left of the road."
"Take twenty men with you and go forward, and see what you can make out."
The young officer touched his Highland bonnet, and then with twenty men, who carried their arms at the trail, marched swiftly away up the slope and disappeared. In about half-an-hour he returned alone.
"I have left my men hidden under the fence of a small quinta," he said. "The enemy are encamped just beyond in the open, to the left of the Quinta de Perdriel."
"Do they cover much ground?"
"They seem to have a great many horses picketed all about, they stretch as far as I could see, but they have not many bivouac fires, and those are close up to the quinta."
"Is the ground all open between here and there?"
"This small quinta where I have left the men is all that is in the way, and it will hide our approach. On both sides of it the ground is quite open."
"Have they no outposts or videttes?"
"None that I could see."
"Then the sooner we are on to them the better. Lead on straight for this small quinta you tell me of."
In low, gruff tones the word "march" passed from front to rear, and again the small column was in motion, winding along like a grey serpent up the slope, over the crisp, frozen grass, where each footprint left a black mark on the glistening surface, bringing on with it in the rear of the column the two guns, like a serpent which carries a double sting in its tail.
The stars had faded away out of the heavens, the eastern sky was tinged with ruddy gold, birds hopped about in the short grass, or flew hither and thither chirping a welcome to the new-born day, for the birds do not sing in Buenos Aires, as this column of armed men, strong in their discipline, blindly obedient to the command of an experienced leader, marched swiftly and stealthily towards their prey.
And what was their prey? A body of men nearly twice their own number, as strong of arm and as stout in heart as they, but men who knew no discipline, and were strangers to the use of arms; men who knew just as much of war as did their leaders, that is to say, just nothing at all, and thus had no confidence or trust in them, but would perchance follow where they led, if they saw no faltering in them, and had no personal antipathy to them.
As the composition of these two bodies of men was distinct, so also were the objects which had brought them together. The British soldier did his duty, and asked no questions; he was ready to shoot, stab, or knock on the head anyone he was told; his life was just as precious to him as that of any other man was to that other, but he had sold his services, and his life, if need be, to his native country for a small modicum of pay and a pension, if he lived long enough to earn it. He had nothing to think of but to do his duty blindly, and it was his habit so to do it; he fought the battles of his native country wherever she liked to send him, and obeyed her implicitly, she being represented to him by whatever officer happened for the moment to be in command of him. To these men who formed this column of 500 soldiers, General Beresford represented the might and majesty of Great Britain; he had told them to go forth and scatter his enemies with fire and steel, and they intended to do it; why these other men were the enemies of Great Britain they never troubled themselves to inquire, they did their duty as they were accustomed to.
The men who were now encamped in and about the Quinta de Perdriel were no trained soldiers gathered together to fight the battles of their country, they were hardy yeomen, men whose lives were mostly spent on horseback and in the open air. A cry had gone forth among them that a band of foreigners had invaded their native country, had taken their chief city, and had chased away their Spanish rulers; men whom they knew had called upon them to assemble and take up arms to drive out these invaders. Such a call had never before been made upon them, but they obeyed it cheerfully, and had come together as though to some festive gathering, their hearts swelling with a strange, unwonted pride. That they had a country which was theirs, and from which it was their duty to drive any foreign invader, was an idea which was quite new to them, their hearts for the first time beat with patriotism.
Their leaders were mostly young men, to whom patriotism was not altogether a novelty, they were eager and enthusiastic, and waited longingly for the day when they might display their devotion to their country by feats of arms, and might seal it, if necessary, with their blood.
Neither of these two opposing forces represented a perfect army; the distinguishing qualities of both in combination have characterised all the armies of all nations, who have at any time in the history of the world earned for themselves immortal fame by their prowess both in victory and defeat.
As the column emerged from the hollow upon the level plain they heard a confused murmur of voices which came to them from a distance through the clear morning air, the patriot levies were alreadyastir. As they drew near the quinta, under whose fence Lieutenant Gordon had left his men, they heard a shout and saw some of the Highlanders rush out from their concealment. The approach of the column had been perceived by a small party which had passed the night at this quinta, the horses of which were picketed inside the fence. Several men had mounted hurriedly and were now trying to make their escape. The Highlanders ran to the tranquera on the south side the quinta, and stopped their exit by that passage, making prisoners of two who tried to burst through; but there was another exit in the western fence where the hedge had been broken down by stray cattle, by which others made good their escape, and galloped off to the main camp.
The column immediately deployed and advanced in line, with one company and the two guns in reserve. The Highland light company on the right had orders to advance upon and occupy the further quinta itself, the main body keeping more to the left, where the blue smoke curling up in long spirals from the watch-fires gave token of an encampment.
The Quinta de Perdriel was a large enclosure, one half of which was planted with trees. The buildings consisted of a large, flat-roofed house, stretching round two sides of a patio. Another side of this patio was shut in by a low wall with an iron gateway in the centre, which ran in a line with the fence, and the remaining side was occupied by a confused group of ranchos which stretched back some fifty yards into the quinta. The shape of the enclosure was an oblong, the fence was the usual shallow ditch backed by an aloe hedge, along which arose here and there the tall stems on which it is said that the aloe carries a flower once only in every hundred years. The hedge was in many places eight feet high and quite impenetrable, but there were numerous gaps through which a man might easily force his way if he could scramble up the bank and did not mind a few scratches. The quinta house and out-buildings stood on the southern face of the enclosure; the attacking column approached it from the south-east, and the encampment lay beyond, outside the western fence.
A horseman rode at full gallop into the patio of the quinta, other horsemen rushed madly about the encampment; all shouted the same warning cry:
"Los Ingleses! Los Ingleses!!"
In an instant all was confusion, men sprang to the backs of their horses without stopping to saddle, and galloped off to drive up the horses which were feeding in troops all over the plain; others seized their arms and collected in groups, not knowing what to do, and having no one to tell them. The leaders ran together in the large patio of the quinta, shouting contradictory orders which no one obeyed. The doors and windows of the flat-roofed house were closed, and the iron entrance-gate was shut. Women crowded into the ranchos, shrieking and dragging their children with them. Among all this confusion one man alone preserved his coolness and presence of mind, Marcelino Ponce de Leon, who at the first shout of alarm mounted to the azotea and made a rapid inspection of the approaching enemy; then descending again to the patio—
"Don Juan Martin," said he, addressing one of the chief leaders, "run you outside and mount all the men you can collect together, while we keep them out of the quinta."
Don Juan Martin Puyrredon mounted his horse, which stood at hand ready saddled for him, and causing the iron gate to be opened galloped off at once; and collecting the groups of armed men, who waited in the open, not knowing what to do, told them to take up their saddles and retreat with him behind the quinta, where by this time a good number of horses had been driven together.
"Now those who have muskets up to the azotea," said Marcelino, as Puyrredon galloped off.
"I will defend the gate," shouted one excited young man, drawing his sword, and giving it a wild flourish in the air, "who will help me?"
In a moment he was surrounded by volunteers. Then Marcelino, calling on a number of others by name to follow him, ran off through the trees which surrounded the house towards the eastern fence of the quinta. He was only just in time, the Highlanders were already on the other side, but had halted while search was made for some way of passing through it. A random volley of pistol and carbine shots was the first notice they had of a foe more formidable than thorny aloes.
The captain in command gave the word "Forward!" and Lieutenant Gordon shouting, "Come on, 71st, follow me!" ran quickly over the intervening ground, and picking out the lowest place he could see in the hedge before him jumped clean over the ditch and into the hedge, whence he slipped and fell on his knees inside. In an instant he was on his feet again, and with two or three dexterous cuts with his claymore cleared a way for his men to follow him through the fence; the next moment a blow on the head stretched him on the ground, but ere it could be repeated the Highlanders came springing in through the gap and entrance was won.