Betrayal (11 page)

The man touched his old-fashioned tricorne respectfully. ‘Cap’n,’ he said carefully, with a slight American accent.

‘Captain Waine has some interesting things to tell us, Kydd. Shall we go to my cabin?’

Dismissing the sentry, Popham offered wine, then turned to Kydd. ‘This gentleman has been talking to me about his recent experiences in the viceroyalty of the River Plate, which I thought you’d wish to hear.’

‘My pleasure, Admiral,’ Waine responded.

‘Among the things he’s imparted is that at the moment there are no Spanish ships of war in the whole River Plate – none. They’ve left to sail north to contest a rumoured landing at Caracas.’ He winked at Kydd, and went on smoothly, ‘And it seems the inhabitants are restless and bitter, concerning the state of trade obtaining there. The Spanish, being at war with England, have been sorely affected, their relations with their colonies all but severed by our blockade.’

‘Ain’t none been seen this two-month!’

‘And what is worse to the situation is that commerce with any other nation is forbidden under the direst penalties. It’s true there’s a species of smuggling of contraband into the main metropolitan centres, but none may legally trade without leave from the viceroy.’

‘From Viceroy Sobremonte hisself!’ Waine picked up a newspaper, which he identified as the
Telégrafo Mercantil
of Buenos Aires and waved it at Kydd. ‘There it’s at, less’n a couple o’ months old.’

He spread it out, a blunt forefinger running down the columns of type to find a passage. ‘There!’

In Spanish, it meant nothing to Kydd, but Waine translated. ‘A
porteño
, man o’ property an’ standing in the city,’ Kydd remembered this was how the painter on Table Mountain had described himself, ‘gets mad at the viceroy, sayin’ the city’s going t’ ruin over trade being cut off and demands he goes over t’ free trade.’ He jabbed at the text in several spots where the words ‘
libre comercio
’ were prominent. ‘Didn’t do him no good, though. He’s slammed in chokey f’r his cheek.’

‘And you say there’s unrest against Spanish rule?’ Popham asked innocently.

‘Unrest? Why, I’d say a stronger word’n that. Them as is born there, they’s called
criollos
and, no matter how high ’n’ mighty, they has to bow down to any as comes from Spain an’ takes all the top positions in trade an’ gover’ment, no mind how low they’s been born in the home country. No, sir,
unrest
is too kind a word.’

‘Can you tell us anything of the military? What forces do the Spanish have?’

Waine winked slyly, tapping his nose. ‘Why, you’re not thinkin’ to do mischief there while there’s no men-o’-war doing the guardin’, b’ any chance?’

Popham assumed an appalled look, leaving Kydd to ask awkwardly, ‘I was more concerned with how the Spanish might put down any pother at all . . .’

‘Well, reg’lars at Montevideo an’ a whole lot o’ militia in Buenos Aires. A sorry bunch an’ nothin’ to worry on.’

‘Er, I’ll not detain you further, Captain,’ Popham said, taking his empty glass. ‘I know you’ve cargo to clear. My thanks for your information and we may well talk again.’

After Waine had left, Popham sat down, his brow furrowing. ‘You heard that. From one who has nothing to gain by concealing the truth. This sharpens the urgency considerably.’

With Renzi’s words and sarcasm still ringing in his ears, Kydd asked, ‘Dasher, you can’t
really
be thinking to invade South America?’

Popham looked up with a lopsided smile. ‘Invade? Of course not. But here’s a thought: the Dons have left an open door to seaward while they deal with Miranda in the north, and the population is simmering with revolt. Should a British squadron appear, offering liberation from the oppressors and at the same time throwing open the entire port at last to free trade – which is precisely what we did with such success here in Cape Town – then wouldn’t you, as a South American, feel just a little bit inclined to side with us?’

‘I’d think so, but the size o’ the continent! How can we—’

‘No, no,
not
an invasion. We haven’t the resources and that was never in my thinking. While we can, we seize Montevideo and neutralise the Spanish military. The people rise up and we ride in triumph into the capital. By the time Spain hears of it, for them it’s too late. They’ve lost their seat of power in the south and Miranda is raising the standard of revolt in the north. A mighty empire of three centuries standing – brought down by us!’

It was nothing short of mind-shattering. To go from humble overlooked naval squadron to empire toppling? There had to be a reason why not.

‘Er, we’ll need an army of quite some size, I’d warrant,’ Kydd said, trying to keep his voice steady, ‘as can be transported in what vessels we have to command. The guns? And horses, o’ course.’ He was flailing about now, trying to find solid ground under his feet.

‘Leave that to me,’ Popham said, with a seraphic smile. ‘As soon as our Mr Waine can give me details on their barracks and forces, we’ll know how to proceed. I’m sanguine a regiment of Highlanders is worth three of the Spanish. And guns – do remember that there’s been no threat to South America since the days of Francis Drake, and never to the River Plate. Even a brace of our paltry field guns will send ’em packing the first time they smell powder.’

‘You really
are
going after the Spanish!’ Kydd said in awe. This was a breathtaking display of moral courage, not only in the conceiving but the firm self-reliance in initiating and planning the entire matter.

‘I am! Should I be satisfied in the odds and what we have to face them, that is.’

Kydd looked at him for a long moment. ‘Then, Dasher, you have m’ full support. Is there anything I can do?’

‘Why, thank you. I suppose there is, old fellow. This is no small matter. I’d be obliged to you if we could get our heads together in the planning. With so many strands coinciding in our favour at this time, there’s not a moment to lose. Say, at four?’

Renzi arrived late for breakfast, tousled and bleary-eyed.

‘Why, you wicked dog! You’ve been up carousing half the night!’

‘Your jest is ill-timed, brother. In truth I’ve been wrestling with chapters and endings and . . . things, and nothing will answer that would satisfy. How can a character be a feckless rake, yet take our sympathy at one and the same time? It’s just not logically possible,’ he said bitterly.

He flopped into a chair, picked up a new local newspaper, the
Cape Town Gazette
, and distractedly leafed through it.

‘Himself in a taking over
L’Aurore
? I shouldn’t have thought it,’ he murmured, when Kydd said he was going to the flagship shortly.

‘Oh, just an enquiry,’ Kydd said casually. With Renzi’s attitude to Popham, he could see no reason that his friend should know of what was afoot until it was at a more mature stage of planning.

‘Then you’ll have time for a small discussion of
Portrait
, brother?’ Renzi said hopefully, closing the newspaper.

‘Not now, Nicholas,’ Kydd said absently, looking for his leather dispatch case. He found it and tested its lock with his fob key. ‘I have to, er, keep Mr Popham abreast o’ things, I find.’

Renzi’s eyebrows lifted at the sight of the dispatch case, normally used for the transfer of confidential materials, but he refrained from comment.

‘Right. To the first. How do we proceed from here?’ Popham said briskly, pulling out papers and looking encouragingly at Kydd. ‘I’ve questioned our American friend at some length and have discovered that for us things are looking better and better. It seems that not only are there few and poor military but their equipment and fortifications are in dolorous order. I’m content that what we are possessed of here will be sufficient to achieve the goal.’

He passed across some lists. ‘I don’t have to remind you, I consider this discussion and materials in perfect confidence between us. Surprise is everything.’

‘Of course.’

‘No one shall know until we have our full dispositions in the matter.’

‘You have my word.’

‘Not even that secretary chap of yours – what’s his name again?’

Kydd paused. ‘It’s Renzi. You’ve never really taken to him, have you, Dasher?’

‘Well, no,’ Popham said, straightening his cuff. ‘A little too much of the dark side about him. As one might say, he’s the air of a fox, too cunning by half. I’m actually intrigued as to why you have the fellow about you all the time.’

‘We’ve known each other for years. I’d trust him with my life,’ Kydd said steadily.

‘Quite. But not with planning confidences.’

‘As you wish,’ Kydd said, ‘but if I might make just one observation, Dasher?’

‘Fire away.’

‘Shall it be you who commands the expedition? Your experience in the military line is . . .’

‘It will be in the character of a joint venture, naval and military, as was the case with Cape Town.’

‘You’re not expecting General Baird to leave his governorship here to take command of a South American army?’

‘Sir David? No, not at all. But I have a special mission for you, my friend, the honour of co-opting our future general-in-command.’

‘I – I don’t understand you.’

‘You’re in the right of it. I’m a military tyro, no acquaintance to speak of in the planning of an army action. We’ve need of a field officer to advise, to render assistance in the promoting of the operation and so forth. It would appear . . . self-aggrandising if it were I who approached the man. It were better that you broach the possibilities, don’t you think?’

‘Very well. Whom do you have in mind?’

‘There’s only one I’d feel has both reason and desire for the position.’

‘Beresford?’

‘Just so. An ambitious brigadier general, twice thwarted of glory in Cape Town – at Saldanha and with Janssens’s hasty surrender – and destined to rot unless he can find himself some other adventure.’

Tall and commanding, Beresford’s figure was always prominent in social events at the castle. He still basked in the reputation he had won in a forced march across the desert with Baird from the Red Sea to the Nile, which had resulted in the defeat of the French Army abandoned by Napoleon. And in which the unknown sloop commander, Kydd, had played his small part.

Was this sufficient grounds to strike up an acquaintance with the general, become comradely enough to impart confidences of such giddy import? He felt a jet of nervousness at the thought, for social manoeuvring did not come easily to him. ‘I’ll, um, see what I can do,’ he said cautiously.

‘No need to make an immediate approach,’ Popham said pleasantly, ‘as the initial objective has first to succeed.’

‘Being?’

‘I think it proper that my captains should be made acquainted with what we plan at the outset. We carry them with us, and our approach to Sir David will be that much the easier, particularly since by your golden words his colleague General Beresford will stand persuaded of the necessity of a descent at this time.’

Kydd was beginning to feel out of his depth, but he also knew that in a post-captain such skills were requisite if he was going to progress in his profession. ‘They’ll need some convincing,’ he said, as heartily as he could, ‘evidence of our military resources as will have them satisfied in every particular of the enterprise.’

‘Exactly. So – to work. These papers list our assets and an appreciation of what we face across the Atlantic. You shall be a captain and I shall rehearse on you what will be presented. Then I beg you will say whether or no you are decided.’

‘Well, I’m ready for you, Dasher.’

Popham leaned forward. ‘This is no triviality I’ll have you know, my dear Kydd,’ he said gravely. ‘If you are not agreeable in any wise, for any reason, I shall not proceed. That is, the whole venture to be called off – abandoned. I will not risk men’s lives unless there is good prospect of success. You understand?’

It was unfair: he was being put in a position where his word would be enough to destroy a daring and far-sighted stroke against the enemy – or to send men to their deaths. But then again, wasn’t Popham being scrupulous in his planning, getting a second opinion such that if it went against him the world would never hear of it again?

‘I do. Be certain you’ll hear from me should I feel to the contrary.’

‘Stout fellow! Then shall we begin?’

Popham had pleaded ignorance of military affairs but, if this was the case, it didn’t show to Kydd. Perhaps it was his experience of the Cape Town expedition or even the previous Red Sea joint operation but he certainly seemed perfectly at home dealing with forage for horses, biscuits and rum for the troops and second-run stores for the follow-up, as well as the joint administrative structures to be set up.

Numbers were demonstrably inferior, but Kydd had seen the Highlanders in action. And when Popham produced his trump card, he found it hard not to applaud. It was to formalise what had worked so well at Blaauwberg: that the invading ships would each contribute a proportion of their seamen and marines to form a sea battalion that would increase their effectives by a considerable margin.

‘Considering we have only to make a show against the Spanish, and the natives will flock to our banners, it should suffice,’ Popham said.

‘I hope you’ve something more interesting for us than last time, old bean,’ complained Donnelly of
Narcissus
. ‘I’ve an important appointment ashore, an’ she won’t wait.’

Popham ignored the gibe from the senior frigate captain and waited for the meeting to settle. At the other end of the elegant table in the flagship’s great cabin sat Kydd, studiously blank-faced, along with the men commanding the other ships of consequence, in all the totality of the rated vessels in his fleet.

‘I’ve called you here for one purpose only. That is to seek your advice.’

This brought immediate attention, for not only was Popham not given to asking what to do but in a flag-officer it was unprecedented.

‘Whatever we can do, sir,’ Downman said loyally. The others kept a wary silence.

‘Then it is in this matter.’ Glancing at each man individually, his manner confiding, persuasive and convincing, he spoke slowly: ‘I’ve recently had an extraordinary intelligence that reveals the Spanish have left their province at the River Plate completely unguarded, sailing as they have done to quell unrest in the north of the country and leaving contemptible forces only to guard Montevideo. Understanding that the French squadrons are now no longer threatening, that Trafalgar has robbed the Spanish of any means to contest us at sea and that we still retain most of the same fleet that succeeded so nobly here at Cape Town – then how absurd would it be to consider a sudden descent on the viceroyalty to achieve a famous victory, one that could well knock the Spanish out of the war?’