Chapter VII: The Baptism of Fire

Drearily passed the night of the 1ST July with the citizen soldiers of Buenos Aires and their Spanish brethren in arms, who to the number of about 8000, with fifty guns, under the command of General Don Santiago Liniers, the Reconquistador, the hero of the 12th August, had crossed the Riachuelo by the Puente Galvès after nightfall, and had encamped in the open country beyond, there to await the advance of the English upon the city. Tents they had none, baggage little more than each man could carry for himself, and their commissariat was of the most limited extent. The mounted auxiliaries from the campaña, many of whom had arrived at the general rendezvous, had driven herds of beeves before them; many of these beeves were slaughtered, abundant rations of raw meat were served out to the hungry soldiery, but for the cooking of it each man had to trust to his own devices. The hardy horsemen of the campaña were accustomed to such emergencies, they threw slices of the meat into the ashes of their bivouac fires; when the outside of the meat was burned to a cinder they considered it cooked, and devoured it half raw. But the more delicately nurtured citizens of Buenos Aires could not eat the tough meat with such cookery; some of them had been provident enough to carry small supplies with them, but the majority were dependent upon the ration beef, and suffered accordingly.

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Some two hours before midnight a mounted officer, covered from neck to heels in a long cloak, rode through the encampment inquiring for the bivouac of the Patricios, and more particularly for Captain Lorea of that regiment. Captain Lorea, his brother-in-law Don Felipe Navarro, and several other officers were grouped round a fire, talking together in low tones and puffing wreaths of blue smoke into the chilly night air from under the wide brims of their hats.

"Felices noches, Señores," said the horseman, drawing rein beside them.

"Ah! Don Marcelino," said Captain Lorea, starting to his feet; "welcome! Dismount, and tell us what you have seen of these invaders. I hardly thought to see you till to-morrow."

"To-morrow we shall have plenty to do," replied Don Marcelino Ponce de Leon, dismounting; "so I have come to talk to you now, and to ask you what preparations are making in the city. I have been encamped here for two days, but know nothing of what has been done."

"This will not be new to you," said Don Felipe Navarro, as they shook hands.

"Oh no! Among you city men I feel like an old campaigner. You have much to learn yet, from what I could see as I came along. I fear some of your men will not be in very good fighting trim to-morrow."

"To-morrow is another day," said Lorea. "We shall pass the night badly, but it will pass."

Marcelino then gave them a detailed account of the events of the 27th and 28th June.

"My uncle," he added, "is encamped with part of his cavalry between this and Quilmes, a chasque has just come in from him. He says that the English have already marched a strong vanguard in this direction, but he believes that the main body is yet beyond Quilmes."

"So much the better," said Lorea. "We will beat their vanguard to-morrow and there will be so many the less to fight the day after."

"And what of the city? Have any preparations been made to resist an assault?"

"An assault! There is time enough to think about that. To-day, at a meeting of the Cabildo, your grandfather proposed that the city should be entrenched, and that we should let the English attack us there. Fortunately the Reconquistador was there. Here in the open camp, in face of the enemy, is the proper place for the defenders of the city."

"In any way," said Marcelino, looking gloomily at the fire, "this is not our proper position, with a river and a narrow bridge behind us. We ought to be on the other side the Riachuelo to defend the bridge and the passes higher up."

"Oh!" said Felipe Navarro impatiently, "the Reconquistador knows what he does."

"Don Gregorio had a plan," said Lorea. "According to him our city is much stronger than Monte Video, just because it has no walls."

"I have seen that plan," replied Marcelino, "and I believe that if it were adopted the English could never take our city by assault, every street is a new line of defence. The man who drew out that plan----"

"Your friend Evaña," said Lorea scornfully. "All that he does is well done in the eyes of a Ponce de Leon, and there is no Ponce de Leon among you who is not worth three of him! Bah! we will speak no more of it. How did your negroes stand the march?"

"For them it was nothing. I left them singing round their fires after a good supper; come and see them. I can give you a good cup of coffee to warm you up for the night."

The negro corps, which was known as "Los Morenos de Ponce," was encamped near to the Puente Galvès, almost in the centre of the position occupied by the army; sentries paced to and fro between the watch-fires; round each fire groups of men lay wrapped in their thick ponchos, sleeping soundly; beside each fire stood a row of camp-kettles filled with soup for the early breakfast on the morrow.

At one fire sat Lieutenant Asneiros on a three-legged stool, beside him knelt a tall negro who was feeding the fire, and watching a kettle of water which stood on the embers. Giving his horse in charge to the negro, Marcelino introduced his friends to the lieutenant.

"Here you are quiet enough," said one of the officers of the Patricios; "the rest of the army is too enthusiastic to care much for sleep."

"They know nothing," said the lieutenant. "Good food and sleep are the necessary preparation for hard work."

"For my part," said Don Isidro Lorea, "I rejoice to see the men so joyful. I feel no inclination to sleep, and am only anxious for the moment when I can give the word to fire on the invaders."

"You will give it without doubt to-morrow," replied the lieutenant. "I hope to God that firing may be all we have to do."

"And what more would you have?" asked Don Felipe Navarro.

As the lieutenant only shrugged his shoulders contemptuously at this question, Marcelino answered for him:

"Any man can fire off a musket, but only a trained soldier can manoeuvre in face of the enemy."

"What matters it?" said Asneiros; "what will be, will be."

After this they sat or lay on the ground round the fire till midnight, talking cheerfully together of the loved ones whom they had left behind them in the city, sipping coffee which was served to them by the tall negro (who was Marcelino's favourite servant, Manuel), scenting the damp night air with the perfume of their cigars, and occasionally singing snatches of song. When his guests left him, Marcelino wrapped himself in his cloak, threw himself down under a low hedge on a heap of twigs and leaves which Manuel had prepared for his couch, and slept till dawn.

Gaily the trumpets sounded a welcome to the new-born day, the men sprang up with alacrity from their couches on the cold, wet ground, threw fresh fuel on the watch-fires, and crowded round them chafing their hands at the ruddy blaze.

Marcelino, climbing to the top of the hedge under which he had slept, looked eagerly out over the encampment, marked by the blue lines of smoke which hung heavily in the damp air over every watch-fire. The extent of ground it covered made the force collected appear much greater than it really was, and the heart of the young soldier swelled within him with pride and a fierce joy as he looked upon this evidence of the power of his native city.

A fresh flourish of trumpets saluted the rising sun, and then the whole force stood to arms, each regiment in its own encampment, while the aides of General Liniers galloped wildly about, for an immediate movement was in contemplation. The Reconquistador had ridden out at dawn to survey the ground in front of him; the aides, as they delivered their orders to the commanders of the different regiments, announced that fresh chasques had arrived from Colonel Lopez, that the English vanguard had encamped that night two leagues this side of Quilmes, and must now be close at hand. For an hour there was a great amount of marching and counter-marching, then on a level space of ground intersected by the southern road the whole force was drawn out in line of battle, with guns in the intervals between the different divisions. The extreme right was held by the first regiment of the Patricios, the left by General Balviani's division, and the "Morenos de Ponce" were stationed near the centre of the line. In front of them groups of horsemen were dotted over the plain, while far away on the great southern road was seen a dense column of infantry marching steadily towards them, their scarlet uniforms contrasting vividly in the bright sunshine with the dark verdure of the surrounding pasture-land. This was the British vanguard, under the command of Major-general Levison Gower, numbering some 2000 bayonets.

General Liniers, attended by his whole suite, rode along the line from right to left. Confidence and exultation beamed in his face, and with many a cheerful word he complimented the commanders of the various regiments as he rode by upon the martial appearance of their men. Each regiment presented arms as he passed it, but the negro corps alone received him with shouts of welcome, shouts which were sternly silenced by Lieutenant Asneiros, as subversive of discipline. Marcelino sat on horseback in front of his men, the Reconquistador drew rein beside him.

"What say you?" said he. "These friends of ours arrive late to the dance. Think you that they will force their way through us and gain the bridge?"

"That is more than they can do," replied Marcelino.

"Just so, but they will try it, probably by an attack on my right flank. Your negroes march well; when the action commences I shall send orders to you to make a circuit beyond yon clump of poplars and fall upon their rear. Balviani will support you, but will advance by the road; the success of the movement will depend upon your speed."

"Your trust shall not be thrown away, general," replied Marcelino, dropping the point of his sword as the general rode on; then looking round he scanned the dark, eager faces of his men, as they watched the movements of the foe, and he knew that they would not fail him, but would follow him where he led, even into the thickest of that forest of glittering steel.

General Liniers had hardly completed the inspection of his forces, and the British were yet more than half-a-league distant, when Marcelino saw them halt. They had reached the crest of a lomada, from which the ground sloped gently towards the position occupied by the army of Buenos Aires, and which stretched away westwards as far as eye could reach, running nearly parallel to the course of the Riachuelo. On resuming the march, the hostile column left the highroad and turned off westwards, following the course of this lomada.

Liniers, fearing to be taken in flank, immediately commenced a corresponding movement to his right. Both armies thus marched parallel to each other, retaining much their former relative position, but hidden from each other by the rising ground and by the various chacras and plantations which lay scattered about.

The British, marching on the high ground, met with few obstacles to their progress, while the Buenos Airean army had to force its way through swamps and the many water-courses which intersected the low-lying grounds between the lomada and the Riachuelo. Through these swamps the men waded knee-deep in mud; in the water-courses many of them sank up to their elbows, wetting their ammunition. After more than a league of this toilsome marching they reached firmer ground, where the lomada approached nearer to the course of the river; here they found that the British had again halted behind the crest of the lomada. Again Liniers drew up his array, and the citizen soldiers forgot the sufferings of the rapid march and the cold which pierced them to the bones in their eagerness to close at once with the foe.

The British screened their movements by the rising ground, but the gleam of bayonets to the right of their position showed that some manoeuvre was in preparation. Then skirmishers in the dark-green uniform of the rifles moved rapidly forward on the high ground. An aide-de-camp from General Liniers came at headlong speed to the left centre, where stood the "Morenos de Ponce." He delivered an order to the commandant of that corps. Marcelino, wheeling his horse, addressed a few words to his men, then, waving his sword, the negroes with a loud shout rushed forward, and, breaking into skirmishing order, ran swiftly up the slope. The British rifles received them with a spattering fire, then hurriedly retreated to the crest of the lomada, and formed in line. A few notes on the bugle and Marcelino had his men all again together, and, telling them to reserve their fire, led them on. The dark line of soldiery gave way before them and marched rapidly off. The negroes broke their ranks and rushed after them with loud yells.

On the crest of the rising ground Marcelino drew rein, and----Where was the British army? Half stupefied, he gazed over the vacant plain before him. All of the enemy that he could see was this small body of light-armed riflemen, who were in rapid retreat, pursued by his own negroes.

"Marcelino! They have gone! They have gone!"

"Evaristo!" exclaimed Marcelino, as he saw his brother, mounted on his pony, close beside him.

"I told you I would be with you when the fighting came," said the boy, with a bright smile. "Before day I was up and saddled my pony and came away. I have watched them all the morning, and I knew you could not be far off."

"But they? Where are they?"

"They have gone, do not I tell you? There where those quintas hide the river, the Paso Chico. They have crossed by the pass, and have marched up the road straight away for town."

"There, Evaristo, over there," said Marcelino, pointing towards the hollow where the army of Buenos Aires was waiting, drawn up in battle-array, for the foe who had escaped them; "gallop as hard as you can to General Liniers and tell him that. Tell him that I have gone in pursuit."

As Evaristo galloped off, Marcelino put spurs to his horse, and, rejoining his negroes, urged them on; but, rapidly as they marched, the British riflemen, who had nothing more than their rifles and cartridge-boxes to carry, out-paced them, and had crossed the pass ere Marcelino and his negroes reached the river.

Evaristo was not the first to announce to General Liniers the evasion of the English vanguard. Colonel Lopez had also watched them all the morning, hovering on their flanks and rear, but not venturing to molest them. When he saw them march from their second position straight for the Paso Chico, he sent off an officer at once to the general with the intelligence, and putting himself at the head of such of his cavalry as he could collect around him he drew them up across the road leading to the pass. One British regiment deployed, poured in a volley, charged, and drove most of the horsemen pell-mell across the pass to the other side, dispersing the rest in all directions. Again collecting some of his scattered troops, Colonel Lopez endeavoured to cut off the retreat of the detachment which had remained on the lomada. But the ground favoured the light-armed infantry. Instead of following in the track of the main body, they made at once for a quinta which lay between them and the river, and bursting through the fences, which were impracticable for cavalry, reached the pass, and crossed without the loss of one man. The colonel then led his troopers to the road at a gallop, but on reaching the river was met by a volley of grape from two field-pieces in position on the far bank. Many of his men fell. He drew back to the shelter of the poplars which formed the quinta fence, and awaited the arrival of his nephew.

Marcelino, dismounting when he reached the quinta, led his men on foot to the edge of the river, just in time to witness the repulse of the cavalry. The owner of the quinta had a boat moored to a post about a square down the stream, hidden from sight of the pass by a bend in the river and the trees of another quinta on the left bank. Enjoining the strictest silence, Marcelino marched his men with trailed arms through the quinta to beyond the bend, rapidly passed them across the river, and took possession of the other quinta without being perceived by the enemy, who first knew of his whereabouts as from the shelter of the trees he opened a heavy fire upon the artillerymen and the light infantry who had halted close at hand. Colonel Lopez, who had been informed by him of his intention, and who had meantime been reinforced by several squads of cavalry, once more emerged into the main road, and, at the head of a yelling mob of horsemen, dashed through the pass. For a moment the capture of the guns appeared inevitable; the artillerymen defended themselves desperately, but were completely surrounded by the furious horsemen.

Colonel Lopez, however, by his eagerness to capture the guns, blocked up the head of the pass, and prevented the passage of half of his troops, and the riflemen, who were screened by the horsemen from the fire of the negro corps, rushed upon the disordered mass with levelled bayonets, forced many of them into the river, and drove the rest back upon the quinta. The negroes, who were advancing from the shelter of the trees to the assistance of the horsemen, were thrown into great disorder by the fugitives, and before Marcelino and Asneiros could reform their broken ranks and draw them clear they were attacked in flank by an entire regiment of light infantry, which was sent at the double by General Gower to the support of the rifles.

The bulk of the British vanguard had halted about a quarter of a mile from the pass to rest the troops after their rapid march from the lomada. General Gower had not perceived the passage of the river by the negroes, and was taken by surprise at the sudden fire opened upon his two guns from the quinta. The whole force was immediately under arms, and one regiment, driving Colonel Lopez and his scattered horsemen before them, charged upon the right flank of the "Morenos" at the same moment that the guns opened fire upon them from the river-side.

"To the quinta, muchachos!" shouted Marcelino.

The negroes faced about and ran for it. Marcelino, catching his bugler by the arm, followed more slowly, and as soon as the bulk of them had gained the shelter of the trees the trumpet sounded the "rally." About half his force obeyed the summons, the rest dispersed in confusion about the quinta. Despatching Asneiros to collect the stragglers, Marcelino then spread his men along the fence and again opened fire upon the English, who replied by one volley, and then retreated rapidly up the road, taking their guns and wounded with them.

Of the horsemen who had passed the river, hardly any were in sight; some had taken refuge in the quinta on foot, many had forced their horses into the river and had swam across; of what had become of his uncle, Marcelino knew nothing for long after.

When Asneiros rejoined him, they paraded the corps once more in the open and found they had suffered a loss of fifty men in killed, wounded, and missing.

"We have begun badly," said Marcelino to his lieutenant.

"What would you!" replied Asneiros, shrugging his shoulders. "Alone we should have done something. But with these others--Bah!"