Burke in the Land of Silver

by Tom Williams

  ‘Phooey and fiddlesticks! You went because it was fun. You enjoyed yourself playing at explorers with your man William and now that game is ended, you expect to return to Buenos Aires and play your other games with me. Well, perhaps I have found my own entertainment while you were away.’

  ‘Ana.’ James tried to think of a response but she had already returned to her accounts.

  ‘Don’t interrupt me, James. I’m trying to add up.’

  James, as a sound military man, decided to withdraw from the assault and regroup his forces.

  For the next few days, Ana was polite but distant and James bided his time, watching and waiting, anxious to find out what new entertainment she might have discovered.

  The answer came on the night of the next meeting of the Société Francaise. Ana spent longer than usual preparing herself for the evening’s entertainment and was adamant that she would prefer not to be accompanied. She might as well, in James’ opinion, have left a note for him: ‘Have gone to meet my lover; do not wait up.’

  Left alone in the house (Mr O’Gorman was conducting some business over dinner with another merchant), James told himself that he had not the slightest interest in Ana’s doings. She was but a passing fancy. It had been fun while it lasted, but it was not as if she had ever meant anything to him.

  He continued this internal monologue as he put on his boots and cloak. He was still telling himself that he cared not one jot for her as he heard Monsieur Bergotte being announced at the Societé Francaise soirée.

  Monsieur Goriot hurried over to greet him.

  ‘I’m so pleased that you could come after all. Madame Perichon was explaining that you were a little unwell after your travels but I see you appear quite recovered.’

  ‘I was a little indisposed,’ Burke agreed, tactfully. ‘But I decided that the best physic would be an evening of your company and, you see, I am recovering already.’

  M Goriot was delighted. M Goriot was pleased to hear that M Bergotte had suffered no real harm as a result of his arrest. (‘Such a ridiculous misunderstanding.’) M Goriot wanted to hear all about M Bergotte’s travels. (‘It must have been so exciting, monsieur. I only wish my business here allowed me to mount such an expedition.’)

  M Goriot’s interests so monopolised M Bergotte’s attention that it was a good half hour before he caught a glimpse of Ana, deep in conversation with Admiral de Liniers.

  As James saw the two of them, Ana looked away from the older man and saw James’ eye upon her. For a moment she blushed, before, with a defiant toss of her head, she turned back to de Liniers and carried on with their talk.

  James watched them for a minute longer. All around him was the buzz of conversation but he no longer cared to listen. Abruptly, he turned away and, explaining to those well-wishers who would have detained him that he was not yet fully recovered from his journey, he returned home.

  He did not sleep well that night. When William woke him, the tea that he brought was more than usually welcome.

  ‘Thank you, William. I needed that.’

  ‘Can’t go wrong with a good cuppa to start the day, sir. The others are already up. Mr O’Gorman is off about his business and Mrs O’Gorman is in the breakfast room.’

  Burke hesitated. ‘Perhaps I should have my breakfast later.’ He had a vague recollection that Ana had featured in the dreams that had disturbed his troubled sleep.

  He took his time dressing and almost an hour had elapsed before he made his way down to breakfast. But when he did, Ana was there waiting for him.

  She gave him no chance to speak before launching into a furious attack. How dare he follow her? she wanted to know. What right did he think he had to behave in such a way?

  James stood silent as she abused him. Her eyes flashed, her cheeks were slightly flushed. She was, he realised, quite, quite beautiful. And she was right. He had abandoned and neglected her and then expected to return and take up as if he had never been away.

  She paused and, before she could add to her catalogue of complaints, he pre-empted her. ‘I had no right, Ana, and I am truly sorry.’

  He spoke as he did because, knowing he was in the wrong, he could think of nothing better to say. He had not adopted his approach as a cunning strategy. Yet nothing could have more completely won his way back into the good graces of Mrs O’Gorman. She kept up the pretence of anger for several more minutes but it was an act that was fooling neither of them. When Burke finally felt safe to sit and start on his belated breakfast, Ana insisted on heaping his plate for him and that afternoon, when she took her siesta, her bedroom door was no longer locked.

  *

  Buenos Aires at the start of September 1805 seemed not that much changed since he had left it. Spain had declared war on Britain at the end of 1804, but the news had not reached La Plata until just after James had left in February. Beyond the imposition of some extra taxes, the war had remarkably little effect on life in the viceroyalty. French, Spanish, and British merchants still lived and traded peaceably with each other. O’Gorman complained that new regulations were crippling his ventures, but Ana assured James that he continued to prosper.

  ‘He’s a lovely man, in his way,’ she said, ‘but he’s never happy unless he’s unhappy about something, and he’s convinced that he faces ruin once or twice a month. He loves his business, James.’ She sighed. ‘I could never really compete with that.’

  Burke looked at Ana who was, as she spoke, lying naked alongside him. O’Gorman, he thought, must have had an extraordinary commitment to commerce if he preferred to watch over his balance sheets rather than enjoy the prospect that Ana presented to Burke. He cupped one of her ample breasts in his hand.

  ‘You may, at least, be assured of my full attention, madam,’ he told her.

  She giggled and Burke, true to his promise, put aside all thought of military plans and troop dispositions until, some considerable time later, she was lying asleep in a tangle of sheets with a contented smile on her face.

  Burke slipped from the bed and made his way to his own room. He knew that he had come close to losing Ana, so he made sure that she did not feel she had to take second place to his business as well as her husband’s. But now that the war that he had expected for so long had finally been declared, there was a degree of urgency to his mission. He sat up long into the night busy with invisible ink and codebooks. William’s needle and thread stitched maps and drawings into leather goods, while troop numbers were hidden in the bills of account that accompanied them.

  It was not until well into the next morning that Burke had William take the fruits of their labours to O’Gorman’s warehouse, from which they would set off on their circuitous route to Whitehall and Colonel Taylor.

  That evening, James and William relaxed over a congratulatory brandy and Burke reviewed their progress to date.

  ‘We seem to have achieved most of what we set out to do. I have provided England with details of the coastal defences, both here and in Chile, and the state of the Spanish garrisons. With this intelligence, I am confident that Britain could, if it wished, mount a successful invasion. Our information on the geology and mineral wealth of the country will enable Mr Pitt to decide whether or not such a move would be in the national interest.’

  William raised his glass in a silent toast and Burke continued. ‘We have a menagerie of local wildlife for the Royal Society and a collection of jewellery for the Duchess of York. I think we can consider that a job well done.’

  He sipped at his brandy, his brow furrowed.

  ‘You’re not satisfied, sir?’

  ‘No, I’m not. There’s no doubt that we can capture and hold La Plata and Chile and the amount of silver that the Spaniards are extracting here may make it a worthwhile exercise. But we are ignoring the political aspect of it. The Spanish are vulnerable at least in part because the people here do not support Spain. They will not fight for her. But we know that there are hidden forces out on the pampas. If the leaders of these rebels, whoever they
might be, were to raise the people against any invasion, then the whole situation would be changed. We would need significant numbers of troops to hold down the province. But if the rebels were actively supporting a British invasion – or even just agreed not to intervene on either side – then we would be able to hand La Plata to His Majesty on a silver salver.’

  ‘So we need to find out who is leading the rebels and win them over to our way of seeing things.’

  Burke smiled at his companion. ‘As ever, William, you see the situation and have summed it up in a nutshell.’

  ‘So ask Iglesias for his help.’

  Burke gazed into his brandy while thinking over what William had said. It might be possible. But suppose the mysterious leader would not reveal himself and, instead, chose to conduct his negotiations through Iglesias? Burke was conscious that he represented King George and the might of England. It was only proper that he talk directly to the future ruler of La Plata. And then again, Iglesias was a proud man and might well insist on conducting the business himself. James did not want to end up a footnote in history, talking to another footnote. Besides, there were practical problems.

  He put his glass to one side and leaned forward.

  ‘Easier said than done. He’s seldom in town and when I find him here I have to tell him I’m not an American patriot but an Englishman and would he kindly entrust me with the identity of his leader – a man who seems to have gone to some trouble to protect his anonymity. And, of course, I have then exposed myself to him as a spy. Not perhaps the wisest move.’

  ‘That’s all very well, sir, but it could be the only move you have left to make.’

  Burke whirled his brandy around the glass, sniffed, grimaced, and swigged.

  ‘You could be right. But we’ll try another week before we give up any hope of identifying the man behind all this.’

  So for a week, William went back to trawling the taverns in the hope of hearing something while James courted Colonel Calzada Castanio, the Viceroy, and M Goriot. He even persuaded Ana O’Gorman that they should make another visit to the Societé Francaise together.

  Their excursion to the Goriots’ salon was the first time she had returned there since James had discovered her with de Liniers. Ana was nervous of being together with both of her lovers at the soirée and she decided to fortify herself by appearing at her very, very best. If a woman is to sin, she reasoned, she is less likely to be condemned if she sins in a truly beautiful dress. She tried one outfit after another, finally settling on a white creation in spotted muslin, so long that it effectively had a short train. To offset the plain white, she wore a silver brooch with a great red stone in it.

  If the intention had been to make an impact on James, she succeeded beyond her wildest dreams. As she entered the room, he looked at her finery with a smile and then, catching sight of the brooch, he had stepped over and seized her arm.

  ‘Where did you get that brooch?’

  She had tried to make a joke of it.

  ‘Mr Burke, I didn’t know you were so anxious to have one like it.’

  He was still holding her arm – so tightly she feared it would leave bruises.

  ‘Mr Burke! James! Let me go!’

  James released her arm and took a step back.

  ‘I’m sorry, Ana. But I need to know where that brooch came from.’

  ‘It was a gift.’

  ‘From whom?’

  Ana blushed and suddenly James realised.

  ‘De Liniers!’

  She nodded.

  ‘Are you very angry?’

  James laughed. He could not help himself. He laughed and pulled her to him and kissed her.

  He had seen that brooch before, as Pedro emptied the treasure they had captured on their raid. De Liniers! A Frenchman, with nought but a mercenary commitment to the Spanish court. A military man, ambitious but unlikely to rise further in a military hierarchy where birth mattered. No wonder he was so anxious to keep his identity a secret.

  ‘Ana.’

  ‘James?’

  ‘Do we have to call upon M Goriot?’

  ‘I thought you wanted to.’

  ‘I’ve changed my mind.’

  ‘The chaise is waiting for us.’

  He looked at Ana, a vision in white. Beautiful, vibrant Ana – who had just given him the answer to a mystery that had been tantalising him for the better part of a year.

  ‘Then let’s drive out. Only not to the Societé Francaise. We have something to celebrate.’

  In the chaise, he remembered the inn where they had first made love and wondered whether he should not drive there. On reflection, though, the gown deserved more elegant surroundings.

  ‘What’s the best hotel in Buenos Aires?’ he asked.

  Half an hour later, they were dining in a private room at the Hotel Colón. And two hours after that they were lying in bed in the most luxurious bedroom Burke had ever spent a night in.

  ‘I love this room,’ said Ana.

  James looked at the fine rugs, the elegant wallpapers, the polished mahogany tables.

  ‘What do you like most?’ he asked.

  ‘Well,’ she smiled, ‘it has a very beautiful ceiling.’

  *

  James called on Sr de Liniers at his home early on Tuesday 10th September 1805. The admiral was at home and he was shown into the morning room by the butler, who announced him at the door.

  ‘Mister James Burke.’

  Santiago de Liniers was sitting at a writing table and he did not rise to greet James. Only after he had finished reading the note on the table in front of him did he address his visitor.

  ‘Mister Burke.’

  ‘Señor.’

  De Liniers looked sharply at the Englishman. He was not wearing his wig. As James had deduced, he was going bald and this combined with the sharpness of his nose gave James the impression that he was being examined by a particularly intelligent eagle.

  ‘I think we have already met. Only you were under the name of Monsieur Bergotte.’

  James nodded his acknowledgement of the point.

  ‘Or was it Captain Witz?’

  ‘My apologies, señor. You will appreciate that I had my reasons for not advertising my true identity.’

  ‘But am I to take it that you really are Mister James Burke?’

  ‘Or Lieutenant Burke, if you prefer.’

  ‘You are a British officer?’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘So you are a spy. Why should I not have you shot?’

  ‘Because, señor, you, too, are not what you appear.’

  The older man said nothing but simply looked at Burke.

  James decided that he looked less like an eagle and more like one of the great Andean condors examining some creature on the point of death, deciding where to take the first bite.

  ‘I know where Sr Iglesias received his instructions.’

  No reply.

  ‘Señor, I am here as a friend. I am an agent of the British government. I have the ear of the Duke of York.’

  It was true, up to a point. He certainly had the ear of Colonel Taylor and Colonel Taylor was constantly at the Duke’s side.

  ‘Why would the British government want to be a friend to me?’

  ‘Because you are an enemy of the Spanish.’

  ‘I am an admiral in the Spanish navy.’

  ‘But you are a South American patriot.’

  Finally, de Liniers allowed himself a flicker of emotion. The tiniest inclination of his head suggested that he accepted Burke’s point. Encouraged, James continued:

  ‘La Plata will be independent of Spain. I have seen enough of this country to know that it can be no colony, yoked to a European master. Britain lost her colonies in North America and Spain will, as surely, lose hers in the south.’

  ‘You are correct. Revolution will come. And sooner than anyone expects. But why would Britain support such a movement?’

  ‘Because an independent South America cuts off Spain’s su
pplies of treasure as effectively as a country garrisoned by British troops. If you would rise against Spain, then Britain will stand at your side.’

  The admiral appeared to give this some consideration.

  ‘Are you offering military support?’

  ‘The British, as you must know, are contemplating a military expedition to South America. Such an expedition, by removing Spanish control, would allow you your independence.’

  ‘Our independence from Spain, certainly. But only to exchange one master for another.’

  So far, Burke had remained standing. Now, without being asked, he took a seat.

  ‘You are in charge of the sea defences of La Plata.’

  De Liniers nodded.

  ‘Should you choose, you would be in a position to ensure that the British were able to land with no real opposition.’

  ‘That would be to betray my country.’

  ‘It would be to betray Spain. You are a Frenchman, living in South America. Your loyalty is to this land that you love, not to the Spanish crown.’

  For a full minute, de Liniers sat silent. Finally, he rose and stood in front of Burke, looking down at him.

  ‘I do not like you, Mr Burke.’

  Burke said nothing.

  ‘I do not like you and I do not like the English. But you offer our country the chance for freedom. Return here tomorrow at the same time. Then you will have your answer.’

  De Liniers turned and returned to his seat. He did not offer to shake hands or bid his visitor farewell, but it was clear that the interview was over. James left the room, collected his hat from the supercilious butler, and made his way home.

  The next twenty-four hours passed slowly. James could not settle to anything. Even Ana’s flirtatiousness failed to elicit any response. Unusually, he slept badly and the next morning found him up soon after dawn, pacing his room until it was time to venture out to the admiral’s house.

  This time, he was shown to the library where Santiago de Liniers was waiting for him at a table covered in maps which themselves were submerged under piles of books and sheets of notes.

  ‘Lieutenant Burke.’

  James noticed the use of his rank and accounted it a good sign.