‘And . . . ?’
‘Therefore I’m come to a determination, even if it might be said to be a betrayal of my country, to tell you of a deadly threat to this settlement, one of which unhappily I cannot provide the details but which none the less appears to be of a fatal nature.’
‘Please be plain, sir.’
‘Our ship was on its way from Christianborg to the French islands in the Indian Ocean. On board were passengers, and two of these were French officers of the Army. They caroused much and what I overheard I will tell you now.
‘There is an enterprise afoot, which is intended to restore Cape Town to Bonaparte’s empire. It involves supplies, timing and that their navy plays its part. I cannot tell you more, except to say that one boasted to me that Cape Town would be theirs to plunder within the month.’
In the shocked silence, Renzi was the first to recover. ‘Sir, it is of the first importance that we know whence the assault will come. From the sea? A privy landing on the coast far from here? Or a direct descent on the town, perhaps.’
Knudsen shook his head sorrowfully. ‘I sincerely wish that was in my power. As you might expect, talking between themselves, there was no general plan laid out, and as a merchant factor, my interest was never in any military adventure.
‘Sir, I tell you this in violation of my feelings as a Danish citizen, but in respect of my obligation to you for your kindness. I know no more.’
After he was shown out, Baird sat down slowly, his face grey. ‘I knew the French would retaliate – but this! We know nothing of it, how or where they will come, except that it must be very soon. What can I do to defend against what we’ve just heard?’
Renzi had no answer.
‘Very well. Not a word of this must get out to the common people. We can only hope that the French show their hand early so we can move to delay them until the reinforcements get here. All I can say is, God help us, Renzi.’
Back in his office, Renzi tried to think it through. That there was a threat was not in question – the source was unimpeachable. That it was well advanced could be deduced from the facts as told – an attack before the month was out.
But that could not be, for the news of Blaauwberg would only very recently have been received in Europe and any expedition mounted as a consequence could never have been planned and put into operation within the time-frame.
Therefore it was a local response.
This raised as many questions as it answered. To overwhelm a prepared defence even of the order of what could be mustered at Cape Town implied a massive landing by a major force, together with a powerful naval squadron to sweep aside the sea defences. Where was that coming from on a local level? And the transport shipping required: this must be of a similar scale. It simply did not add up. Or did it?
He went back to Baird and explained his reasoning. ‘If it’s local it’s unreasonable to think they can deploy enough military resources to succeed in a landing. Therefore we must consider how else it can be achieved – and I believe I know.’
‘Yes?’
‘They’re already here.’
Baird blinked. ‘Do tell me, Mr Secretary.’
‘Sir, it’s my belief that somewhere beyond the mountains among the Boers the French are building up a secret army. Instead of a direct landing, they’re sending troops overland from the east to add to this force until it’s ready to challenge us. Then they’ll descend from the mountains to crush us, our navy powerless to stop them.’
‘Umm. Not impossible. You mean, they’re being infiltrated somewhere along the coast past the settlements and marched inland? There’s many a reason a military man might find to say how this might fail, but for now I’ll allow it.’
He considered for a moment and added, ‘I’d think to have heard something of any build-up of soldiery but, as you say, if it’s placed among our Boer friends they’ve everything to gain by keeping quiet. No matter, I’ll send out patrols and—’
‘Sir. You’ve an immense country to cover and there’s simply not the time – and, besides, you’ll set the colony to speculation and panic. No, sir – there is another way.’
‘Which is?’
‘I make a surprise tour of the interior, the purpose of which is let out to be of ensuring that our administration is fairly and truly conducted, namely, that the books of register and account are well kept and in their proper form.’
‘You have a reason.’
‘Certainly. An army has to be supplied. From these accounts I can easily see if the receipts of foodstuffs in Cape Town no longer match production in the country – that they are being diverted for other purposes.’
‘Quite so – well done!’ He grunted ruefully and added, ‘Although it offends my military sensibilities that the French might be thwarted by mere books of account.’
‘Then I’ll set out immediately, if I may, Sir David. There’s not a moment to lose.’
‘Of course. And I’ll ask the commodore that a ship be sent to look into the coast to the east as well. We must move on this as quickly as we can.’
Chapter 11
It was true that, with impunity, Janssens had held out in the mountains until his army of unreliable militia had melted away, but if now there was a core of Napoleon’s professionals, gathered up from the garrisons in Mauritius and other Indian Ocean islands . . .
Popham had thus been obliged to send his lightest frigate to the east to join Leda, already on station.
Kydd’s orders were brief and open: he was to cruise off the long south coast of Africa to intercept anything that looked like a supply train or to acquire any intelligence that would reveal something of a clandestine force.
With the desolate coastline now under his lee he summoned Gilbey and Kendall to discuss a plan of action.
‘This is a puzzler, gentlemen. Here we have a secret army being landed but no port available to them.’
‘Mossel Bay?’ hazarded Gilbey.
‘The only place possible, I’ll agree, but we’ve since sent in the lobsterbacks to keep order. No – that leaves no docking worth the name on this whole stretch of coast. They’ll have thousands of troops, stores and guns to get ashore, and you’ve seen the beach surf in this part o’ the world.’
‘A river, then?’
Kendall harrumphed. ‘Not as who’s t’ say. Never seen such a continent without it has its river navigations,’ he offered, adding that the south part of Africa had not one river capable of taking sea-going vessels.
‘Up the coast, somewhere uncharted b’ us?’
‘We can say no to that, Mr Gilbey – the French are good at marching but in your case they’d have to sweat along for many hundreds of miles across to reach us. And by our intelligence they’re but a month away from a descent on Cape Town, so must be nearer. And, as well, if they land in unexplored country they’ll be in the middle of savage tribes who’ll resent ’em crossing there.
‘My suspicion is they’re closer, the Boers hiding ’em somewhere among themselves. And if we smoke out how they victual, we’ll find it.’ It was an easy thing to say but the reality was quite another matter. It was a long coast, and if they discovered nothing, did this mean there was no secret army?
‘Sir, may we know how far out the Boers have settled away from Cape Town? This’ll limit the search a mite, I’m thinking.’
‘I have this map from the colonial secretary’s office. They’re saying they’ve spread east as far as this’ – Kydd indicated a point two-thirds along the blunt heel of Africa – ‘as they call it, the frontier. That’s the Sundays River and after this there’s nothing but tribes o’ savages pressing in.’