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.
* * * * *
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.