Burke in the Land of Silver

by Tom Williams

  Now that Beresford had installed himself in the Viceroy’s palace, he saw no reason why he should pay any attention to Lieutenant Burke. In his view, the fact that Burke reported directly to the Commander-in-Chief’s office made it difficult to get rid of him, but there was no need to encourage him. So James was left to look helplessly on as Beresford blithely led British policy toward disaster.

  James was still welcome aboard the Narcissus but Popham also had other things on his mind. With Buenos Aires captured, his ships were lying idle and he was already laying plans to leave Beresford to his victory and take his flotilla to blockade Monte Video. When James went to him with his concerns, Popham was sympathetic, but unwilling to get involved.

  ‘Old Beresford’s got a point,’ he admitted. ‘We’re not putting the tariffs up. War’s expensive. We have to get money from somewhere.’

  ‘But I negotiated a deal that saw La Plata free from financial exploitation. It was on that basis that de Liniers agreed not to put up a fight.’

  ‘Well,’ shrugged Popham, ‘perhaps you’d better find de Liniers and discuss it with him.’

  James grimaced. De Liniers had vanished from Buenos Aires and was rumoured to be in Monte Video. It left James feeling foolish and wrong-footed. This was not a feeling he enjoyed. So he kept his face impassive and said nothing as Popham sipped at his wine and watched him with one eyebrow raised quizzically.

  Popham put down his glass and continued: ‘While he remains so damn elusive, it’s very difficult to take the agreement with him too seriously.’

  Reluctantly, James nodded. What the hell was de Liniers playing at? He seemed to be just biding his time, waiting to see what the British would do. But why? And what was he planning to do next?

  Burke nodded again, more definitely this time. He needed to find de Liniers and resolve the situation before Beresford made a political compromise impossible.

  For the rest of the meal, James was distracted, his thoughts coming back again and again to the problem of finding de Liniers.

  It was early when Burke went ashore. He went to his quarters in the fort and tried to sleep, but sleep was slow to come and, when it did, he dreamed of de Liniers, standing on the walls of Monte Video and laughing at him.

  When he woke, it was still dark. He lay there for what seemed like hours, still with no idea where de Liniers was or what he was planning.

  In the darkness, he found his thoughts turning to Ana. How close was Ana to de Liniers? Did she know anything that might help James now? The more he thought about her, the more he convinced himself that she might be able to tell him something that would give him an advantage over the admiral.

  It had been a year since he had last seen her. There had been other women while he was in Brazil but, he realised, no one who had meant anything to him. Surely there could be no harm in meeting her again.

  He called the next day. He knew O’Gorman would be at the warehouse so when he presented himself to be told, ‘I’m sorry, sir, but the master is not at home,’ it was easy enough to say, ‘Oh, dear! Is Mrs O’Gorman in a position to receive me, perhaps?’ And Mrs O’Gorman did receive him. But this was not the passionate Ana of his recollections. She sat opposite him in the morning room, hands chastely folded in her lap, while the servants bustled in and out with tea and cakes, ensuring that she was always respectably chaperoned.

  ‘You had business with my husband, I understand?’

  ‘I would far rather have business with you, Ana.’

  She sipped her tea and waited until the maid had fussed with the arrangement of cups and saucers and departed, at least for the moment.

  ‘I have no idea what you might mean by that.’

  ‘I thought we parted on good terms, Ana.’

  Ana’s eyes flashed.

  ‘We parted on no terms at all. One minute, you were here: the next, you were gone! Did I mean no more to you than that?’

  ‘I had to leave without delay. You were not here. I could hardly write a love letter for you and have it sent via your husband.’

  ‘You didn’t have to leave as quickly as that. You went to Brazil. I know because Thomas told me all about that and the way that you were smuggling hides with him so he could make a few extra pesos on each consignment. I thought you were a gentleman and you abandon me for this squalid money-grubbing.’

  She knew him too well, he thought. Of every blow she could have struck, she had found the cruellest. It was true, he had been in trade but only incidentally. It had been profitable, certainly, but he was not a common merchant. Surely she knew that!

  Ignoring the risk of interruption, he stepped across the room, and seized Ana by her shoulders where she sat.

  ‘Ana, I had no choice but to go. I had negotiated an agreement with de Liniers that promised British success. He insisted that I leave immediately.’

  She tossed her head and her dark hair moved in way that James found strangely affecting. He just wanted to kiss and caress her, but in her present mood he knew that would be fatal.

  ‘Why would he insist on such a thing?’ He could tell that she wanted to believe him but the whole situation was so ridiculous he could well understand why she did not. He decided that he might as well tell the truth and be damned.

  ‘Because he did not want me to see you again.’

  Ana stared at him, trying to take it in what she had heard.

  ‘You see, Ana, you can honestly say that you were the price that had to be paid for this country.’

  James had thought that this was quite a romantic conceit. It put Ana on a par with the great beauties of history – a sort of Helen of Troy for South America. To his astonishment, though, far from being flattered, she was furious.

  ‘Are you telling me that you sold me to de Liniers for your wretched agreement?’

  James retreated to his chair.

  ‘You were hardly sold, Ana. And your husband tells me that you appear to reciprocate de Liniers’ affection all too publicly.’

  ‘How dare you! How dare you criticise my conduct after the way you took advantage of my husband’s trusting nature when you were a guest under his roof!’

  James opened his mouth to reply and found he could think of nothing to say. Ana, her eyes sparking, her cheeks flushed with fury, was a far more terrifying foe than any he had ever faced on the field of battle.

  At that moment, the door opened and a servant entered.

  ‘Is everything in order, madam?’

  At once, Ana’s face was a mask of icy calm.

  ‘Everything is perfectly in order, George. But perhaps Maria could return in a few minutes to refresh the pot?’

  So, James thought, Ana is even better chaperoned than was at first apparent.

  As soon as the servant left, and taking care to keep his voice low, he tried again.

  ‘Truly, Ana, if I did anything to cause you distress, I am humbly sorry. We were friends – more than friends – and I grieve that you have come to hate me.’

  Ana sipped her tea and helped herself to a small slice of cake, which she nibbled daintily with her astonishingly white teeth.

  The mechanics of eating and drinking seemed to calm her. ‘I do not hate you, James. But I was disappointed in you. And I am, of course, much disquieted by the intelligence you have just offered me.’

  ‘It wasn’t what you imagine, Ana. De Liniers was jealous and he insisted I leave immediately. Everything hung on a knife-edge. I really had no choice.’

  Ana dabbed at her lips with a napkin. ‘And what was this agreement with de Liniers?’

  When James did not reply, she answered her own question. ‘He agreed to betray the city to the English, didn’t he?’

  ‘He’s a patriot, Ana. He’s saving his country from Spanish domination.’

  Ana laughed. She had a very musical laugh. It was one of the things that James loved about her. Her laughter seemed totally genuine. ‘De Liniers cares nothing for the country. Or the Spanish. Or the English. De Liniers cares only about th
e inexorable rise to power of Santiago de Liniers.’

  ‘I had rather feared that you would say that. I don’t trust him to keep to our agreement and I was hoping you might have some idea of what I might be able to offer him to ensure his loyalty.’

  Ana was laughing again as Maria came in, bringing more tea. Only as the servant left did she respond to James’ question. ‘Loyalty is not a notion that takes up much of Santiago’s time. He is loyal to me, because I am convenient and I am attractive and, in a town full of men and jealously guarded Spanish women, there is, frankly, little alternative.’

  ‘Then why are you loyal to him?’

  Ana smiled sadly across the teacups. ‘You left, James. My husband is a good man and a fine husband in his way but boring beyond belief. And he has no ambition. He thinks that to be respected in our merchant community is to be a success.’

  She left her seat and passed across the room to the window. ‘Look at the world out there. There’s a whole continent waiting to be conquered. There are men like you and de Liniers who will take this world and shake it and form it to their ends. There are men who will know power and fame and who will build nations here. And there’s my husband, who will plot to turn a peso here and a peso there and who will account himself happy that men like you will acknowledge him in the street.’

  She sat again. ‘I’m a woman. I cannot fight. I cannot rule. But in de Liniers, I can touch that power. I can be a part of this new world.’

  She stopped and the two looked at each other in silence for a while. ‘You left me, James.’

  ‘I’m back now.’

  ‘You’re a soldier. You’re back because your duty has brought you back. And when your duty calls you away, you will depart. And I will be left here alone.’

  Now it was James turn to take a slice of cake that and make a great show of eating it. Only after he had finished did he speak again. ‘Where is he, Ana?’

  ‘I don’t know. Really, I don’t.’

  ‘If I find him, what can I offer him? Is there truly nothing that he cares about?’

  ‘Just power, James. Not even the trappings of power – just the naked rawness of it.’

  James thought of the ruby brooch that de Liniers had given to Ana. ‘He may not care for the trappings of power, Ana, but I think he cares for gold. Money is, in its way, a measure of power.’

  ‘It will take more gold than you will be able to lay your hands on if you seek to buy him.’

  In an instant, it came to him. He leapt up and kissed her. ‘You’re a genius, Ana. I know where I’ll find the gold. And when I’ve found it, I’ll come back here and I’ll take you wherever you want to go and I’ll try to make you forget this whole damn mess.’

  Ana smiled up at him. ‘Yes, James, I think you will. And I think I’ll let you.’

  And then she rang for her man, and George presented Mr Burke with his hat, and the visit was over.

  Burke made his way straight back to the fort and asked the duty officer for a sergeant and six good men. Then (fondly remembering when he was a real soldier who led troops into battle) he marched briskly to de Liniers’ house. It was so obvious, he told himself, that he should have thought of it before. De Liniers had moved out of Buenos Aires only hours before the British attack. He had travelled quickly and he was now in hiding. It was unlikely that he would have been in any position to carry treasure chests with him. Therefore, James reasoned, they must still be in Buenos Aires and the most likely place for them to be was in his home.

  James Burke might not have enough money to hand to buy de Liniers – but he intended to bribe the scoundrel with his own gold.

  The squad arrived at the house where Burke had negotiated his agreement with de Liniers more than a year earlier. Their hammering brought the same butler to the door. James remembered him all too well. It gave him a distinct satisfaction to push past that haughty retainer and to watch the expression on his face as six burly Scots took the house apart. They dug up the ground floor, ripped open the mattresses on the beds, smashed into every chest, and tore down every tapestry. By the time they had finished the place was barely habitable.

  Burke and the butler surveyed the damage. James had to admit that he was not displeased with the effect. There was only one small problem. They had not found as much as a single coin.

  Burke found the lack of any money at all vaguely reassuring. Had there been the odd bag of gold or some pieces of jewellery, he might have reasoned that de Liniers did not, in fact, have the sort of treasure trove they were looking for. But the complete absence of anything valuable suggested that things had been hidden. It was just a matter of finding them.

  The following day saw the same six Scotsmen destroy de Liniers’ office in the morning and search his stables in the afternoon. The stables took a long time and when they had finished there was not a bale of hay that had not been scattered in the street outside. Of de Liniers’ treasure, though, there was no sign.

  Burke began to wonder if he might possibly be mistaken or if the cache could have been so cunningly hidden that he would be unable to find it. Perhaps he would be unable to celebrate his triumph with Ana after all.

  And that was when it came to him. De Liniers was a senior officer in the Catholic Spanish forces. While men were men the world over, the Spanish had always liked to pretend otherwise. A Spanish officer might well take a mistress but it was frowned upon if it were too obvious. It was unlikely that Admiral Santiago de Liniers would, like James, be in a position to roger another man’s wife in a dockside inn, and he would certainly be too discreet to take her to his home. Somewhere, there was a love nest that no one knew about. No one except Ana.

  *

  ‘Ana, when de Liniers bedded you, where did you go?’

  For a moment, he thought she was going to strike him.

  ‘It’s important, Ana. I need to know.’

  She saw he was serious. ‘He had a little house on the edge of town. To the west. I can take you there if you want.’

  *

  The house was small and unprepossessing: a single floor built around a small courtyard. There was just one servant – an Indian girl, little more than a slave. She stood dumbly while the soldiers tramped through the rooms. They left her room untouched, and barely glanced at the bedroom. Next to the bedroom, though, was a locked door. When they broke the door down, they found an office.

  James took one look at it and knew that he would find what he was after. This was the room where de Liniers kept his secret life. On the wall was a French tricolore, the ceremonial sword he had carried when he first joined the Order of Malta as a twelve-year-old page, and a portrait of a man in French naval uniform whom James assumed to be his father. There was little furniture: one chair, a bureau, bookcases, and a map table. The floor was of paving slabs, laid directly on the earth.

  ‘Lift the slabs,’ ordered Burke.

  They had brought a pickaxe and went to work with a will, levering the slabs from the ground. The chest was under the third one.

  *

  Early in August, O’Gorman delivered a consignment of hides to the wharves to load aboard the Santa Theresa, only to be told that the ship would not be putting to sea.

  He spent that afternoon making enquiries of other ships’ masters, and then generally around the port. What he learned had him striding across the Plaza Victoria and into the fort, where he demanded a meeting with Colonel Beresford.

  The next day he returned to the Castillo de San Miguel and asked to see Lieutenant James Burke.

  When James was eventually located and had taken O’Gorman to his offices in the bowels of the place, O’Gorman told him what had happened.

  ‘I asked to speak to Colonel Beresford, but they said he was busy. I spoke to a man who said he was an aide-de-camp to the colonel – some snot-nosed kid who thinks he’s better than me because his family had the money to buy him a commission.’

  ‘That kind of thinking isn’t helping you, Thomas.’

  ‘I’m s
orry.’

  The merchant made a visible effort to pull himself together. ‘He said that La Plata had been Spanish, so that the ships owned there were Spanish ships and, being as England was at war with Spain, if they went to sea, they were liable to be seized as spoils of war. I went to him myself, Mr Burke, and explained the injustice of it but he said that there was nothing he could do. Even if he allowed them safe passage down the Plate, any British captain finding them on the high seas would seize them. I asked if they could not sail under our flag but he said that they were dagos and it would be quite improper to extend them the protection of our colours.’ By now, O’Gorman needed a sip of whisky before he could continue. ‘I ship my own goods on those vessels. There were never going to be enough British ships for all our trade. Shipping fees would rise; our goods would be stuck in our warehouses. Mercantile activity would cease. And could I make him understand this? The military mind, Mr Burke, can be remarkably limited in its outlook. Present company excepted, of course.’

  Not only limited, Burke thought, but profoundly stupid. Beresford’s latest pronouncement meant that ‘free trade’ meant only trade with England and her colonies or with countries allied with England in the war against Napoleon. The merchants, who had tacitly supported the occupation up to now, would, once they realised what was happening, turn against the British. And, Buenos Aires being built on trade, once the merchants opposed them, the city would take more than a garrison of fifteen hundred to hold it.

  To make matters worse, Beresford was now isolated. After weeks of idleness, Popham had decided to withdraw his marines and all but one of his ships and move on to the business of blockading Monte Video. (‘I might even bring de Liniers back for you, James,’ he had joked.) Burke saw the situation moving out of control. Everything that he had achieved was to be undone by Beresford’s stupidity.

  O’Gorman had sat, uncharacteristically silent, while Burke thought over what he had been told but now the Irishman spoke. ‘Can you not talk to Colonel Beresford?’