Chapter 33

 

The second night in São Luis was considerably quieter than the first. Cochrane was installed in his new residence and groups of marines and sailors patrolled the town to deter any trouble. The admiral was delighted with his temporary home, but even more pleased with a rumour now circulating around the city that the phantom army would arrive in three days. It had allayed the suspicions of many of the Portuguese and the first ship containing those fleeing from the city had already left. More were expected to leave the next day, including the army.

“What are we going to do when the imperial army does not arrive?” I asked. “Even if the Portuguese are gone by then, it will still be hard to control the likes of Delgardo. He will have more men in the city than us and knows its streets well. We can only hope to hold a few strongpoints. Unless he is stupid enough to make a stand by the waterfront, the guns of the Emperor will be useless.”

Cochrane gave a heavy sigh. “While I am sure we cannot trust the fellow, I think we will have to make an accommodation with this Delgardo if he is as influential as he claims. I will invite him to serve on the governing council. It will be better to have him on the inside of the new government than waiting to overthrow it after we have left. When we get back to Rio we can ask the emperor to send a new governor and some regular troops to back him up.”

“By then he will probably have the whole province under his heel,” I grumbled. “You would be better off arresting the bastard now while he is feeling threatened and throwing him in gaol before he can cause any more trouble.”

“No, Flashman,” warned Cochrane sternly. “That kind of tyrannical behaviour will not be tolerated in Maranhão under my governance. We will soon hold elections and establish a legitimate provincial government that will be respected.”

I did not reply but it seemed to me highly unlikely that Delgardo would play by Cochrane’s rules. However, for the time being the villain stayed out of sight as he waited for events to unfold. The next day most of the Portuguese who were planning to leave put to sea. They wanted to be well out of sight of land before the expected arrival of the Brazilian army. There were a few that stayed to settle affairs before they departed and others who dithered around the dockyards unsure whether to sail or stay. They were not the only ones at the wharves and warehouses; Cochrane was there with his quartermaster and several of the crew, counting up what we had captured.

“There were over a hundred and twenty vessels in the harbour when we arrived,” he enthused to me on the third day after we arrived in the city. “On top of that there are holds and sheds full of valuable cargos, not to mention the public properties such as this mansion and other land here that was owned by the Portuguese government.” Laughing with delight he declared, “It must all be worth several million dollars and under the terms of my commission with the Brazilian government it all counts as prizes. We are all going to be rich men, Thomas.”

“But you surely do not expect the Brazilians to pay you millions in prize money?” I was astonished that he would think such a thing possible. “If they could afford that, they would have been able to pay for skilled soldiers and seamen instead of the sweepings of the dockyard that they foisted on us.”

“They have to,” insisted Cochrane, his jaw jutting out stubbornly now. “After my troubles in Chile I insisted that the clauses on prize money were very clear. It is all there in black and white and remember, it was the prospect of prize money that attracted many of the skilled seamen to our fleet. I am not betraying my own crews.” He paused, thoughtful for a moment and added, “But you are right, we cannot expect all of the money in one lump sum. I would be willing to consider a stipend or pension.”

I pictured Jackson sitting in his room in Rio still calculating what was due from Cochrane’s adventures in Chile. If the poor fool thought that he was nearing the completion of his task, he was in for a rude awakening. The calculations of prize money from Brazil would dwarf those of Cochrane’s former employer and I judged the claims for payment to be just as likely of success. There was no way that the emperor’s government could consider such a sum and so, like politicians everywhere, they would try to wriggle out of unfavourable commitments. But the value of the property in São Luis was also a powerful incentive for Delgardo and his cronies and they would be keen to get their hands on it. From what I had heard he had already tried to seize some of the more valuable cargos – Cochrane’s sailors had recovered them from his warehouses. It would only increase his animosity towards us and that was unfortunate as, according to my widely circulated prediction, the non-existent imperial army was due to arrive the following day.

I awoke, anxious, the next morning in the governor’s mansion. Our bluff was about to be revealed and things were bound to get ugly. If not that day then over the next week, Delgardo was likely to make his move. There would probably be rioting and other disturbances when the people realised that they had been tricked. I was just wondering if I would be safer shifting my belongings back to the ship and sleeping there, when I heard shouting in the street outside. Surely it has not started already, I thought as I pulled back the shutters. Then I heard the last thing I expected to hear: people were running past the mansion yelling that the imperial fleet was in sight.

A few moments later and Cochrane and I stared at each other in astonishment. “It must be the Portuguese fleet here at last,” he concluded. It was the only plausible explanation as the Brazilian ships were still scattered all over the Atlantic, chasing vessels to Lisbon or escorting them to friendly ports. The Emperor was still anchored just off the town.

“Are you leaving the flagship where it is?” I asked. “If the Portuguese get close enough to attack, we would be able to fire on them from the fort.”

“No,” said Cochrane. “Our strength lies in our mobility and speed. I will leave some sailors in the fort, but we will weigh anchor and at least show ourselves in the river mouth.” He looked me in the eye and continued. “I need you, old friend, to stay here. Leave ten reliable men to guard the residence and ensure that the emperor’s flag continues to fly from the rooftop. Then march the rest to the gun emplacement at the end of the peninsula. Keep the emperor’s flag flying there too; we need their fleet to see it so that they know the port is taken. But if they get close open fire to show we are ready for them.”

“Hang on,” I protested, not at all keen on the idea of being left stranded ashore while Cochrane put to sea. Apart from the risk of the Portuguese landing troops on the coast, there was Delgardo and other Portuguese supporters among the townsfolk who could also strike if they saw the opportunity. “If we let their ships get close enough to see the flags flying over the city the people here will see the Portuguese flag flying over their ships too. They will know then that they have been tricked.”

“Well that cannot be helped,” said Cochrane, brushing my objection aside. “Just do what you can to keep a lid on things until I get back.” With that he was gone and I was hurriedly left to make my own arrangements.

I left Mallee and ten marines to guard the residence and took the rest hurriedly up the track to the gun emplacement closest to the sea. The streets were busy with people, some heading in the same direction as us to see the ships. Other groups, particularly women, were heading the other way to hide in the countryside to avoid the marauding bands of murderers and rapists that they thought were fast approaching. Judging from the noise coming from the surrounding streets, yet more were busy hammering planks over windows and doorways to provide some protection from the anticipated human storm to come.

It was fifteen miles up the coast to the gun emplacement, a good morning’s march for hardened troops. It was hard going for my marines, who were not used to marching such distances. I had requisitioned a horse, but after a few miles my thighs were aching too after so long out of the saddle. Without Mallee, it was hard to force the men along at a brisk pace. I promoted the big marine to corporal as he seemed to command the most authority amongst them. I had often seen Mallee and the big man together, they seemed close friends, but even he struggled to keep their pace up.

I was desperate to see how much of the Portuguese fleet was offshore. If it was the entire naval squadron and all the troopships then we were in trouble as they were almost certain to force a landing. My marines and a few sailors would not stop them. I had thought of galloping up the path ahead of my men, but I wanted to keep the horse fresh in case a precipitate retreat was required. I was damned if I knew where I would retreat to, though, with the Emperor putting to sea. After the tales of terror we had spread, we would do well not to be lynched if we were abandoned in the city. It was with a pang of anxiety that I saw the big flagship go down the river and past us towards the sea. The winds were light and once more Cochrane was using the tide to take his ship where he wanted to go.

By noon we were still three miles short of our destination and my little column was stopping to fill their flasks at a well. I could bear it no longer and so, ordering them to follow as quickly as they could, I galloped off alone down the track. At least there was no sound of gunfire, I thought, as I pressed over the final ridge to get my first view of the open sea.

There were three ships, around four miles offshore. As best as I could judge, one was a frigate and the other two were troopships, but at that distance it was hard to be sure.

“They have been patrolin’ up and down for the last few hours,” called a voice. I turned and saw four of the Emperor’s sailors sitting in the shade of a tree. They had been stationed there as look-outs and to man several ancient cannon that pointed out to sea above a nearby wall.

“Have you tried firing at them?” I asked.

“Nah, they haven’t got close enough for that. They would barely see the splash if we fired at them from this range.” I studied them with my glass but they still were too far away for me to make out a flag. I looked up at the flagstaff near our guns and realised that the light wind from the east would not make it easy for the ships to see the Brazilian pennant either. If they had been expecting the Don Miguel to sail out and welcome them, they were to be disappointed, for to my left I could see the tide pulling the Emperor out into open water. The Portuguese ships must have seen her, but maintained their position as they studied the shore. Were they an advance party for the rest of the fleet? I wondered. But scanning the horizon in all directions with my glass, I could not see the masts of any more ships approaching. Canvas was now appearing on the yardarms of the flagship as it began to tack south-east to get close to the intruders.

Still the Portuguese ships remained on their patrolling line. They must have recognised the flagship by now – they had seen enough of her on the way here. The fact that she had sailed undamaged and without being fired upon from the fortifications of São Luis was a clear indication that the city, and hence the province, had fallen to the emperor. Perhaps they could not believe their eyes; this was to have been their redoubt on the continent from where they would retake the country. They knew we had no soldiers to speak of and that a thousand Portuguese troops had been here. It must have seemed impossible that the place had fallen to us. They knew of Cochrane’s reputation and were perhaps wondering if this was a trick and that the garrison remained up the river.

“Fire a one-gun salute to the flagship,” I ordered the sailors. A few moments later the thumping sound of a large cannon boomed across the water. I watched Cochrane through the glass, he was staring back at me and then along the coast as though he thought I was warning him of something. “Dip the flag in salute as well,” I ordered, exasperated that he did not understand what I was doing. At last the penny must have dropped as Cochrane ordered the salute returned from the flagship and his pennant dipped in response. While they may not have been able to see the flags, the Portuguese would have heard the guns. It was the clearest indication possible that men manning the shore guns in São Luis were for the Brazilian cause. A few minutes later, as the Emperor began to pick up speed, the Portuguese ships shifted their helm onto a south-easterly heading. Presumably, this would take them back to the main fleet. There was no way that they could allow our powerful flagship to get to windward of them.

Cochrane patrolled off shore for the rest of the day, with men aloft to watch for any more approaching ships and to check that the ones we had seen did not double back to the shore. My marines arrived an hour after I did, moaning about the long march in the heat and throwing themselves down in the shade.

“You should have seen the soldiers march at Assaye,” I cajoled them. “Over twenty miles in the burning Indian sun and then winning a battle against odds of ten to one.”

The big marine, his name was Joshua, glanced up and asked, “Did you fight there?”

“I did,” I confirmed, neglecting to mention that for most of the battle I had been a prisoner. He seemed impressed with my military prowess, even though that battle had happened twenty years before.

We stayed there for the rest of the day. In the evening the Emperor sailed slowly past us as it headed back to the city, but I kept my men where they were. They did not seem ready for another fifteen-mile march and in those parts, it gets dark quickly. In any event, I was not yet convinced that the Portuguese had gone away for good or that more would not arrive. I planned to stay there until dawn the next day. Having ensured that the horizon remained clear of enemy shipping, only then would we return to the city.