Betrayal

Author’s Note

For readers wondering what happened next – well, the longed-for reinforcements arrived a few weeks after the surrender took place, not from England but from Baird at the Cape. However, they were too slight to effect more than the token capture of Maldonado.

Stung by public opinion, the government had in fact sent out reinforcements but they did not arrive until early the following year, and with them Popham’s replacement: he’d been summarily recalled to face court-martial for leaving his station.

The reinforcements were turned into an expedition for the retaking of Buenos Aires. This started well, with the capture of Montevideo, but Whitelocke, a remarkably incompetent political appointee, had been sent out to replace the able General Auchmuty.

The final assault on Buenos Aires was all but over when victory was turned into complete defeat by Whitelocke. Liniers then had the satisfaction of taking the sword of yet another British general. Terms this time were for a complete evacuation, including prisoners from the first incursion.

A year after they had arrived, the British finally sailed away for ever.

The subsequent fate of the main players varied.

Popham’s court-martial resulted in a severe reprimand but it seems not to have affected his career, he at the same time being presented with a sword of honour by the City of London for his efforts to open up the markets of the River Plate. In future Kydd tales you shall see more of this intelligent, manipulative, gifted and controversial figure.

Beresford escaped in a manner much like Kydd did, taking the same line on parole. Later, he led in the capture of Madeira, where he so won the confidence of the Portuguese that he was given the command of their armies following the invasion of Portugal by Napoleon. Like so many military in this book – Pack, the 71st itself, other officers – he went on to distinction in the Peninsular War.

The bluff and energetic Baird, however, was caught up in the recriminations and ended under recall, losing his governorship of the Cape. He was never employed at that level again.

Santiago de Liniers, twice victor, was hailed as viceroy to replace the cowardly Sobremonte, but in the growing divisions between loyalists and patriots, as a royalist and French by birth he was suspected of treason and executed barely a year later.

In a stroke of irony, Spanish and Argentinian sources both freely admit that it was the barely known fringe act of empire portrayed in this book that produced the spark that set South America ablaze to achieve independence, by demonstrating the fragility of the Spanish hold on their old colonies, while Miranda’s descent on Caracas failed. This struggle for independence beginning three years after the British left saw other bonaerense such as Pueyrredon, Guemes and Belgrano take forward roles, and the colonial South America that Kydd knew was quickly swept away.

Buenos Aires, never before and never since under threat from the outside, is now the capital of Argentina. The city bears little resemblance to what it was in those days: vastly bigger and with only the Plaza Mayor itself barely recognisable, the fort long gone and the waterfront an altogether healthier prospect. The River Chuelo, in which seamen swam heroically to build their bridge of boats, is now straddled by a vast dock area, while Ensenada de Barragan is a naval base and the Perdriel ranch has been swallowed by the suburbs.

The northern shore is now Uruguay but Colonia del Sacramento still has a defiant Portuguese colonial feel to it, the little bastion at the water’s edge attracting curious visitors.

Of this whole South American episode there are very few relics remaining but in the down-town church of Santo Domingo a visitor to Buenos Aires may stand before the actual colours of the 71st Regiment of Highlanders, surrendered on that fateful day by General Beresford.

As usual, for space reasons, I am unable to acknowledge everyone I consulted in the process of writing this book, but to all I owe my deep thanks. Special mention, however, must be made of Sarah Callejo in Madrid who gave unstintingly of her time in respect of various queries on Spanish sources. I also owe a debt of gratitude to the staff of the British Library and the University of London Library.

And, as ever, my huge appreciation must go to my wife and literary partner, Kathy, my agent Carole Blake and my editor Oliver Johnson.