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.