Chapter XI: The Pathways of Death

The Corrales de la Miserere stood in a hollow. On the higher ground behind this hollow stood Mr White's house and some other quintas; to the east of the hollow the ground rose gradually for more than half-a-mile till it reached the level of the centre of the city, which extended to within half-a-mile of the eastern face of the city, when the ground again sloped gently down to the beach. Thus from the Corrales de la Miserere nothing whatever could be seen of the city, save the houses immediately bordering on the Plaza, and the orchards and aloe fences of the suburbs which stretched to the right and left of the position held by the British army. Even from Mr White's house, which overlooked the suburbs and the nearer quarters of the city, very little could be seen of it without ascending to the roof, from which the towers and domes of the churches were plainly visible, but the city itself appeared only as a wilderness of houses, the lines of the streets being undistinguishable.

The city of Buenos Aires at that time was in the shape of a triangle, of which the river front of the city, about three miles long, formed the base, the apex being at the Plaza Miserere. On the two sides of this triangle clustered the suburbs, cut up at regular distances into blocks by roads which were the continuations of the streets of the city. The city with its suburbs formed thus an irregular parallelgram, but in the suburbs, in addition to the streets, there were many bye-roads, in which a stranger might easily go astray.

The centre of the position held by the British army rested upon the apex of the triangle which formed the city proper; in front of the right and left of this position lay the suburbs.

* * * * *

An hour before daylight on the morning of the 5th July the entire British army was under arms. Each subdivision paraded at the head of the street by which it was to advance into the city. The number of men in each subdivision varied from 250 up to 600 men, the total force comprising the three columns being something less than 5000.

The column of the left, under the command of Sir Samuel Auchmuty, comprised the 38th, 87th, and 5th regiments of the line, and was directed to occupy the bull-ring, the Retiro, and the convent of Las Monjas Catalinas. The column of the centre, under the command of General Lumley, comprised the 36th and part of the 88th regiment, and was directed to establish itself in the houses overlooking the beach, and then combine with the column of General Auchmuty in an attack upon the centre of the city. The column of the right, under the command of General Crauford, comprised eight companies of light infantry, eight companies of the 95th (the rifle corps), and seventy recruits of the 71st regiment, also the 45th regiment, which was detailed under Colonel Guard for the special service of occupying the Residencia. General Crauford was directed to occupy the church of Santo Domingo. Thus the instructions to the three generals in command were to establish themselves along the eastern face of the city, in positions distant three miles from the headquarters of the army, and separated from it by a wilderness of houses and quintas swarming with a hostile population. Further than this they had no definite instructions, save that the capture of the fort and the great square was understood to be the main object of the attack.

The reserve consisted of the 6th Carabineers; four troops of the 9th Light Dragoons, all dismounted; a part of the 88th regiment; pickets from all these regiments, which remained in charge of the knapsacks and great-coats of the men; about forty of the 17th Light Dragoons, mounted, and such of the artillery as had not been left with Colonel Mahon at Quilmes.

General Crauford had two light field-pieces attached to his column, the other columns were without artillery.

Colonel Duff of the 88th regiment had such misgivings as to the result of the day that he left the colours of his regiment behind him with the reserve, and, when he advanced before dawn to the head of the street by which he was to enter the city, he found his regiment so weak that he sent back for two of the companies which had been left with the reserve. Before these companies were allowed to join him they were ordered to take the flints from their muskets and leave them behind, and Colonel Duff lost much time in trying to provide them with flints, by searching among the rest of his men for spare ones. Even so, many of the men of these two companies entered into action without flints.

The division under the command of Colonel Mahon, which advanced from Quilmes to the Puente Galvès on the 5th July, consisted of about 1800 men, infantry, artillery and dismounted cavalry, the 9th and 17th Light Dragoons, and 200 sailors from the squadron, who had been landed by Admiral Murray to assist in dragging the cannon through the swamps at Ensenada, where five guns captured from the Spaniards at Monte Video stuck fast and were destroyed by Colonel Frazer.

The idea of General Whitelock appears to have been, that by avoiding the main streets of the city, which led direct from the Corrales to the Plaza Mayor, and by a rapid march before sunrise, without firing, through the suburbs and shorter streets, he would succeed in surprising the principal positions to the north and south of the great square, which idea, considering that most of these positions were a league distant from the Plaza Miserere, presumed a great want of vigilance on the part of the garrison, while all chance of a surprise was effectually destroyed by the way in which the signal to advance was given.

As the day dawned a salvo of twenty-one British guns on the Plaza Miserere gave the signal. The troops marched at once; each subdivision in column of sections, seven men in line, left its position and disappeared down the muddy roads, hedged by aloe fences, which led through the suburbs. They disappeared, marching along avenues in which they could see nothing either to the right hand or to the left, towards an unknown goal at the end of a long, narrow path shrouded in darkness and in mist.

Liniers had made every preparation for a vigorous defence. Including the regular troops, the three battalions of Patricios, the Arribeño regiment, armed citizens, slaves,[6] and the dismounted paisanos, he had over 15,000 men under his command. The regular troops were concentrated about the defences of the Plaza Mayor, but the militia were spread about on the azoteas all over the city.

The thunder of the British guns roused up at once the sleeping city; on every azotea the troops stood to arms, by every gun stood a gunner with a lighted match. There had been much rain for several days past, now over all the city there hung a thick haze. Men rushed up to the roofs of their houses, and peered anxiously over the parapets into the murky morning air. Then over the whole city there fell a great silence.

Rapidly through the suburbs marched the invading columns, meeting with no foe, scarce seeing any sign of life; then as the haze cleared somewhat away they entered the long, straight streets of the city, long monotonous lines of white houses, with barred windows and parapeted roofs, deserted streets in which was neither life nor motion, streets stretching straight before them with no visible end. Some of the subdivisions encountered cavalry videttes near the suburbs, who trotted away before them, shouting up to the azoteas of the houses as they passed the warning of their approach.

When or where the firing commenced no one knows, but presently these deserted streets sprang at once into fiery life; on each hand the azoteas bristled with armed men who fired without aim into the thick of the moving mass of men beneath them, who still marched swiftly on with shouldered muskets, and fired not one shot in return. When one man fell another took his place, and still the word was "forward." Fiercer and fiercer grew the fire from the parapets of those flat-roofed houses, men no longer crouching under them for shelter, but leaning over the better to select their victim. Losing patience at the tedious task of reloading, casting aside their firelocks, some tore down the parapet itself with their hands and hurled the bricks at the heads of the marching men. Women with dishevelled hair ran about madly on those flat roofs, more fierce, more relentless than the men, urging them on in their work of death, seizing bricks, grenades, or any other missile that came to hand, and throwing them in wild fury at the lines of living men, who pressed steadily on with teeth clenched and glaring eyes, but who still sent back not one shot in return. Rank after rank was broken, men fell by dozens and by scores, and still where each man fell another took his place, still with sloped muskets, and shoulder to shoulder, the soldiery pressed on up those pathways of death, where the leaden hail poured upon them like hailstones in a winter storm, and where, as they neared the centre, round shot and grape from the defences of Plaza Mayor tore through them.

Through all this tempest of fire the well-trained troops held on their way unflinchingly, and every subdivision, or a remnant of it, reached the position for which it marched. The bull-ring, the Retiro barracks, the church of Las Monjas Catalinas, the church of Santo Domingo, the Residencia, and several blocks of houses on the river face of the city were captured and occupied. But round each position so captured crowded thousands of the furious foe, rendered more furious still by the unavailing slaughter they had inflicted upon the invaders.

Then the British troops came to bay, the welcome word was given to load and fire, and in turn their shot poured havoc and death into the dense masses about them. Many a trim soldier of the Patricios fell lifeless on the parapet over which he leaned. Many an honest householder, who had loaded his fowling-piece with ball that day in defence of hearth and fatherland, then fired it for the last time, and fell back upon the tiles which covered his own home, pouring out his life-blood from a mortal wound. Many a swarthy, bearded paisano threw up his arms as a pang shot through him, and glaring wildly on the unwonted scenes around him, bethought him of the peaceful solitude of his native Pampa, bethought him of his lowly rancho and of the half-naked little urchins who called him father, then sank down with swiftly-failing breath as death darkened those wild eyes for ever. Many a slave who fought bravely with freedom before him as his guerdon then gained equality with his master in the grave.

But, regardless of those who fell, more and more pressed fiercely round every position held by the British troops; those regiments which penetrated into the vicinity of the Plaza Mayor were the most fiercely assailed.

The 88th regiment, in two subdivisions, under the command of Colonel Duff and Major Vandeleur, entered the city by the streets now known as Piedad and Cuyo. After an abortive attempt to capture the church of San Miguel, Colonel Duff marched on, losing men at every step, till he found himself under the guns of the defences of the centre, when turning to the left he burst into and occupied a house close to the Merced Church. Major Vandeleur, after losing half his command, occupied another house about a square farther north. But their men were driven from the azoteas by the overwhelming fire of the enemy, and after several hours of unavailing resistance both divisions were compelled to surrender.

General Lumley, with the remainder of his brigade, advancing by the Calles Parque and Tucuman, seized some houses in the last block before reaching the beach and held them with the 36th regiment against furious assaults and a heavy cannonade from the fort until the afternoon.

The column of the left, under the command of Brigadier-general Sir Samuel Auchmuty, advanced upon the northern quarter of the city. The 38th regiment, under the command of Colonel Nugent, at the extreme left of the line, made a considerable detour through the suburbs, and then advanced by a narrow road straight upon the Plaza del Retiro. Here the garrison was strongly posted in the barracks and the bull-ring, with cannon planted upon the open ground, and a large, flat-roofed house in front was occupied as an outpost. From this house a heavy fire was directed upon the regiment, causing severe loss; but it was captured by the bayonet, not one of the garrison escaping. Colonel Nugent then attempted to advance upon the bull-ring, but was repulsed by a murderous fire of artillery, upon which he detached two companies to take possession of a house on the high ground overlooking the river, to the north of the Retiro barracks. This operation was successful, and the two companies leaving the house by a side door forced their way into the barracks, drove out the garrison at the point of the bayonet and captured several cannon, all of which but one twelve-pounder were spiked. Colonel Nugent then hoisted his colours on the flag-staff, and opened fire with the captured gun upon the bull-ring.

Meantime Sir Samuel Auchmuty had advanced with the 87th regiment by the Calles Arenales and Santa Fé, thinking that they would lead him to the left flank of the enemy's position on the Plaza del Retiro; instead of which, after a march of more than two miles, he found himself directly in front of their position, and was received by a tremendous fire of artillery and musketry from the bull-ring, against which it was impossible to advance. He accordingly retreated two squares to the right, where the little river Tercero, which flows down the Calle Paraguay, had scooped out a sort of trench, along which he marched his regiment, sheltered from the fire of the enemy, and took possession of a large house and garden on the high ground overlooking the river. Then hearing of the success of Colonel Nugent, he advanced to his support, and at half-past nine, after two hours of incessant firing the garrison of the bull-ring hung out a white flag and surrendered at discretion.

By this success the British column captured 700 prisoners, thirty-two guns, most of them of large calibre, two mortars, and an immense quantity of ammunition, and secured at once a formidable base of attack, and the means of communicating with the squadron.

The right wing of this column, consisting of the 5th regiment, under the command of Lieutenant-colonel Davie, which advanced by the Calles Charcas and Paraguay, met with but slight opposition, and captured some spiked guns in a cross street. After occupying some houses on the river front Colonel Davie detached an officer with a strong party to seize the church and convent of Las Monjas Catalinas, but Major King of this regiment in attempting to capture another large house was driven back by overwhelming numbers of the enemy.

The right column of attack, under the command of General Crauford, marched upon the southern quarter of the city. The left wing of this column, led by Colonel Pack, about 600 strong, advanced by the Calle Moreno, and penetrated to the last block without much loss, although the Calle Moreno was but one block distant from the defences of the Plaza Mayor. The approaches to these defences had been all night illuminated by lamps hanging in the doorways and windows of the houses; these lamps were still burning dimly in the murky air of the early morning when Colonel Pack halted among the scattered houses which overlooked the beach to the south of the fort. These houses were under the guns of the fort and offered no position that he could safely occupy. He looked about him; to his left lay a narrow street, closed by a black mound of earth; once over that mound and he was in the Plaza de los Perdices, and by one desperate effort might seize the fort and decide the fortunes of the day. His first step was to detach Colonel Cadogan with his rearguard to attack the church of San Francisco and so secure his rear. This church stood close to the trench which crossed the Calle Defensa at its junction with the Calle Potosi; the azoteas all round were strongly garrisoned.

Advancing rapidly up the narrow street, Colonel Cadogan brought up a field-piece to blow open the side door of the church, but from the surrounding azoteas and from the earthwork so tremendous a fire was poured upon him that "on a sudden the whole of the leading company and every man and horse at the gun were killed or disabled." He was forced to a precipitate retreat, and bursting into a house in the Calle Moreno took refuge there with 140 men.

Colonel Pack, with the remainder of his command, wheeled rapidly into the Calle Balcarce, and made a desperate assault upon the earthwork which closed the entrance to the Plaza de los Perdices. Over the top of this earthwork frowned the muzzles of two heavy guns, in front yawned a ditch twelve feet wide by six deep. The light infantry rushed up that narrow street straight upon the black muzzles of those guns, while the grape-shot tore through their ranks, and an incessant fire of musketry poured upon them from the azoteas on either hand. They reached the ditch and sprang into it, only to find before them a perpendicular wall of earth twelve feet high, over which they strove to clamber, while hand-grenades, bricks, and all sorts of missiles were showered upon them from above; till seeing no possibility of success, Colonel Pack, who was himself wounded, drew off seventy men, the remnant of his force, and retreated upon the church of Santo Domingo. There he met General Crauford, who had reached that position unopposed, and who at once took possession of the church by blowing open a side door with a shot from a field-piece.

On the extreme right of the British line, Colonel Guard, with the 45th regiment, penetrated through the suburbs to the south of the city, and attacked and captured the Residencia with very slight loss, taking about 100 prisoners. The Residencia was at that time used as a hospital, the wards being occupied by 150 sick, many of whom had been wounded in the affair of the 2nd. It was surrounded by high walls and an iron railing, and was a very strong position. Leaving Major Nicholls with 400 men to hold the Residencia, Colonel Guard then advanced with the grenadier company by the Calle Defensa to join General Crauford. Reinforced by that general with a detachment of light infantry, he then attempted to re-open communications with Colonel Cadogan, but had hardly advanced fifty yards from Santo Domingo when the guns on the defences of the Plaza Mayor opened upon him with grape, and a storm of shot poured upon him from the adjacent azoteas. The grenadier company was swept away, Major Trotter of the Rifles was killed, and he, with the few men left, was forced to seek shelter in the church.

Meantime, on the Plaza Miserere, General Whitelock, surrounded by his staff, walked to and fro, knowing nothing of what had happened, hearing from far off the shouts and cries of the combatants, the incessant rattling of musketry, the frequent boom of cannon. Of those troops who had disappeared in the murky dawn into that great wilderness of houses, not one returned to tell how their comrades fared. The firing was far off on the eastern face of the city to the north and to the south of the Plaza Mayor. Between these points and the Plaza Miserere there intervened a vast mass of flat-roofed houses, which swarmed with armed men. No messenger could penetrate that wilderness. One officer, who was sent off to the right with a few dragoons, returned, saying that to pass onwards was impossible.

The troops of the reserve were all under arms, and surrounded by swarms of native cavalry, who now and then crept near enough to fire upon them, and who watched for an opportunity of pouncing upon any weak party which might venture away from the main body. One party of this cavalry, about 200 men, approached so near that Lieutenant-colonel Torrens, chief of the staff to General Whitelock, was apprehensive of danger from them. Taking with him thirty dragoons, he charged them, drove them before him, and pursued them for nearly a league.

Then about eight o'clock General Whitelock determined upon a further offensive movement upon the centre. Two detachments were ordered upon this service. Three companies of infantry with two field-pieces advanced by the street now known as the Calle Piedad, and a corps composed of the 6th Carabineers and two troops of the 9th Light Dragoons, dismounted, under the command of Colonel Kington of the Carabineers, with Major Pigot of the Dragoons as his second in command, was ordered to penetrate by the next street to the right. This corps had also two field-pieces attached to it. The carabineers were armed with carbines and bayonets, the dragoons had muskets.

The infantry, galled by a heavy fire from the azoteas, forced their way as far as the church of San Miguel, and bursting open the church doors and the doors of several of the adjacent houses established themselves there, filling the tower of the church with marksmen, whose fire soon drove away the enemy from the neighbouring azoteas. The two field-pieces were planted in the street in front of the church and by their fire drove off a party of the enemy who were advancing upon them up to Calle Piedad.

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At dawn Don Isidro Lorea inspected all his preparations and posted his men with great care. At each loop-hole in the barricaded windows of his house and almacen he placed three men, two of whom were to load while the other fired; his own company of Patricios he stationed on the azotea and took command of them himself. He had barely completed his arrangements when the salvo of British guns gave the signal for the attack. At the report of the guns Doña Dalmacia ascended to the azotea.

"Go! go!" said Don Isidro, as she approached him. "They come! How can I do my duty if thou art in danger?"

"I come to but embrace thee once more," she answered; "I know that thou art brave and wilt do thy duty," so saying she threw her arms round him and kissed him. Then turning to the men she spoke cheerful words to them, encouraging them to do their duty, and passing along the ranks shook hands with many of them whom she had known from childhood. The men answered her words with loud "Vivas," she left them and retired to the security of her own room, but not to rest there in idleness, she knew that fighting would entail wounds and death. With her maids around her she went on with the work from which the report of the guns had roused her--appliances for the relief of the wounded and for the alleviation of the sufferings of the dying.

Hardly had Doña Dalmacia left the azotea than the report of a musket was heard in the suburbs somewhat to the right, then another, then came shouts and cries, and the musketry grew into one continuous rattle, gradually spreading over the whole city to the north and to the south of the Plaza Mayor, but Don Isidro could see no foe approach him, and no musket was fired in his immediate neighbourhood.

Two hours his watch lasted and the partial cessation of the firing told him that the heat of the conflict was over; from all sides came reports of a fearful slaughter of the invaders. Then away in the suburb beyond his position he heard the reports of several muskets, and there was a cry from a neighbouring azotea:

"They come!"

He moved his men up to the parapet, and stationed himself at the corner, looking up the street out westwards. What he saw was a dense body of red-coated soldiery, with brass helmets, with sloped muskets and bayonets fixed, marching rapidly towards him. What he saw was a miscellaneous multitude of men leaning over the parapets of the houses and firing upon these marching soldiers, or stepping back from the parapet to reload. What he saw were soldiers dropping on their faces as they marched, or staggering out of the ranks and clutching at the bars of windows ere they laid them down on the side-walks to die.

As they issued from the street and emerged upon the open space, the galling fire which had attended their progress died away. The azoteas in front of them and about them were lined with armed men, who waited for the signal from Don Isidro, and Don Isidro stood motionless at his corner watching them. At the head of the column came a troop of stalwart men, marching on with firm step and eyes looking straight before them; in front of them rode a mounted officer, the plumes of his cocked hat had been shot away, blood stained the white gauntlet he wore on his bridle-hand, but stiffly erect he sat in his saddle, and his face was calm as though he knew no anxiety, but his lips were firmly pressed together, and the fingers of the right hand twined round the hilt of his sabre in a convulsive grasp.

Don Isidro was a civilian, but he was also sufficiently a soldier to admire and appreciate the perfection of military drill. Admiration and pity struggled within him against what he knew was his stern duty; his men looked at him in astonishment. The leading troopers were already half way across the open space, when with a shudder he shook himself free from his thoughts, leaped up on to the parapet, waved his sword, and shouted:

"At discretion! fire!"

A storm of shot shattered the ranks of those stately troopers, the horse of the mounted officer plunged wildly in the air, and fell back over him, the head of the column was completely destroyed, the bodies of the tall troopers strewed the ground on which a minute before they had marched so proudly. Only for a moment was the march of the column delayed, on it came swiftly as before, men dropping at every step under the fire from the loop-holed windows. They reached the corner, then from the windows of the almacen a rapid flanking fire opened upon them, and fresh assailants, leaping over the parapets of the houses on either hand, met them with a fresh storm of shot. The column reached the corner, entered the street, but went no further, the leading files melted away under that deadly fire. The retreat was sounded, the soldiery retired out of reach of the fire of the Patricios to the back of the open space, where, opening fire themselves, they drove the defenders back from the nearer parapets and obtained a respite.

Meantime the infantry corps had passed on a square further north. From this subdivision came galloping back a mounted officer, his cocked hat and plumes showed him be to an aide-de-camp. He enquired angrily from Colonel Kington the reason of his halt, and of his breaking the general orders by allowing the men to fire. In reply the colonel pointed to the heaps of men, dead and dying, who lay about the street corner.

"I am bringing up a gun. I must take that corner house, I cannot pass it, the windows are all loop-holed."

"You know the positive orders of General Whitelock! Unless you advance at once I shall be forced to report you."

Again the troopers formed in column, again they advanced over ground strewn with the bodies of their slaughtered comrades, their leader marching, now on foot, at their head, the aide-de-camp beside him, a fine-made young man, with the blue eyes and yellow hair of the midland counties, Craddock by name, the favourite aide-de-camp of General Whitelock.

Don Isidro had watched all these manoeuvres; again he reserved his fire till the column was more than half way to the fatal corner, again leaping on to the parapet he waved his sword as a signal, again a storm of shot swept away the whole ranks of living men. Colonel Kington fell; the aide-de-camp reeled in his saddle, let go his reins to press his hand to his side, his frightened horse turned and galloped off, away back through the now silent suburb to the British camp; his rider, seeing nothing, knowing nothing of where he went, kept his seat till the horse stopped, when he was gently lifted from the saddle, carried into a house and laid upon a bed. There he lingered till sundown, neither opening his eyes nor speaking, save once when General Whitelock bent over him and spoke to him.

"Ah, General!" he said, "Those streets of Buenos Aires, they are, as that Spaniard said they would be, the pathways of death."

Again the column recoiled from that fatal corner, and a gun being now brought up was wheeled into position in front of the door of Don Isidro's house, at somewhat more than 100 yards distance. The first shot crashed through a panel of the door and did little harm; the second struck it full in the centre, where it was secured by a heavy cross-bar, shattering the latter and the door itself so much that it was only held by the lower bolts. Two more shots, and the door was a complete wreck. Then the troopers, in open order, again advanced, firing steadily at the Patricios on the azotea, and at the loop-holed windows.

Fiercely occupied as each man was at his own post, Doña Dalmacia was the first to notice the shattered door. Leaving her own room she ran across the patio to the almacen, calling upon the men there to bring out boxes and barrels to block up the zaguan. Excited men rushed out into the patio as they heard her voice, not comprehending what she said amid the roar of musketry. Seeing the open doorway they fired from the patio upon the advancing troops. In vain Doña Dalmacia ran among them, entreating them to block up the entrance at once, they were mad with fury of the fight. English bullets came amongst them, several of them fell, then Doña Dalmacia, running into the sala, brought out a heavy chair and threw it on its side in the middle of the zaguan. Hardly had she done so ere a bullet struck her in the throat, she fell forward upon the chair, clinging to it with her hands, her blood pouring over the embroidered velvet in a steady stream.

Don Isidro had heard his wife's voice; calling upon some of his men to follow him, he ran down the narrow stair from the roof; as he set foot in the patio he saw his wife fall.

"Dalma!" he screamed rushing to her and raising her in his arms. It was the last word he ever uttered. She opened her eyes once, looked upon him with a loving smile, her lips moved, but no words came, he saw she was dead. With one arm clasped round her, he shook the other hand fiercely at the English; they poured in one deadly volley, and then rushed into the zaguan. Don Isidro fell, shot through the heart, in death yet clasping his wife to him; their blood, mingling in one red stream, dyed the feet of the furious soldiers as they ran in over their prostrate bodies.

The shouts of men, the screams of women, as they saw Don Isidro fall back upon the pavement with his wife's body in his arms, brought the entire garrison of the house into the patio. From the roof, from the sala, from the almacen men rushed towards the main entrance, beating back the soldiery with clubbed muskets, stabbing furiously with knives, bayonets, or whatever weapon came to hand, while from the azotea the Patricios opened fire upon the zaguan itself. The struggle was sharp but short; all the English who had entered the patio were killed, the zaguan was choked with the bodies of their dead. Reinforcements poured in from every side, a strong party from the suburbs ventured into the open street and attacked the invaders in the rear; Captain Buller who had led the attack upon the house had fallen in the zaguan; again they retreated. The Patricios rushed out in pursuit.

The English, re-forming their broken ranks, attempted to cover their retreat by the fire of their cannon, but from every side poured in upon them fresh hosts of foes. Men fell by dozens; for five minutes the open ground was the scene of a frightful butchery. Then a cry arose among the Patricios, "To the cannon, muchachos!"

A party of the Patricios, in something like order, rushed with levelled bayonets on the gun; behind them came a motley crowd--shopmen in their shirt-sleeves, their faces grimy with gunpowder; half-naked slaves armed with pikes and hatchets; paisanos, who, wrapping their ponchos round their left arms, threw aside their carbines and drew from their waistbands poniards twenty inches in the blade. The artillerymen were shot down or bayonetted, the gun captured, and the dismounted dragoons driven in confusion back up the street by which they had advanced. Here they were met in precipitate retreat by Captain Forster, an aide-de-camp to General Whitelock, who assisted Major Pigott to rally them. Re-forming them and bringing up the other gun, Major Pigott opened such a deadly fire of grape and musketry upon his pursuers that he drove them back across the open ground and forced them to take shelter in the houses, abandoning the gun they had captured. He then burst open the doors of a corner-house to the west of the open space, took possession of it, and posting a strong party of his men on the flat roof drove off by a well-directed fire all the men on the neighbouring azoteas.

Here he remained all the rest of the day, not venturing to make any further attempt to advance. Throughout the afternoon the Patricios kept up a fire of musketry, but they did not venture to attack him.

* * * * *

All morning the crews of the British fleet, anchored in the roadstead, had looked anxiously from the masts and yards of their ships for any indication of how the day was going. First on the Residencia, then on the church of Las Monjas Catalinas, then on the Retiro, then on the church of Santo Domingo, and at length, soon after ten o'clock, on the church of San Miguel they saw the flag of England waving in triumph. The greater part of the city was already theirs, and it was yet early; the first part of the plan of General Whitelock had been successfully achieved. As the flag was hoisted last of all on the church of San Miguel the watching sailors greeted the sight with loud shouts of joy, with ringing cheers which were heard even to the shore.

Yes, the first part of the plan of General Whitelock had been successfully achieved, the first positions had been attained, but at what cost? Fully one third of the troops which had paraded at dawn in full confidence of success were now hors-de-combat. All over the streets of Buenos Aires lay British soldiers still in death or grievously wounded. As yet merely the _undefended_ part of the city had been traversed, only one attack had been made upon an entrenched position, and that had been repulsed with fearful slaughter.

Those open streets of Buenos Aires, held only by squads of militia and half-armed citizens, had been to the trained soldiery of England the pathways of death.

[6] Many of the citizens had armed their household slaves.