"And why should we look to Spain? Are there not plenty of us to drive away not one thousand but ten thousand English? But what has Spain ever done for us that we should fight her battles for her? We have no quarrel with these English; for my part I should like to be good friends with them; but give up my country to them, and let them rule over us—never!"
"No, we will never do that, Marcelino; but you spoke just now of Liniers. What can he do?"
"He is a brave man, and a soldier; with the few troops he had he beat off the English when they tried to land at Ensenada; so they came nearer, and landed at Quilmes, and our army fled from them like sheep. If Liniers will head us we will soon get enough paisanos together to drive these English into the sea."
"Sobremonte will not permit him to do anything of the kind. What can gauchos do with their lassoes and boleadores against troops?"
"Liniers is not a Spaniard, he is a Frenchman, and would care very little for Sobremonte if he had men behind him; and men he will have for the asking, that I can promise him."
"All that is nonsense, Marcelino; you must not go away, you must stop here with me, you will ruin yourself with these strange ideas. Do not leave me; promise me that you will not go away."
So talked a mother and a son together in the city of Buenos Aires on the evening of the 26th June 1806. An army of invaders had landed on the coast, and was now encamped close to the city; the soldiers of Spain had fled before them. On the morrow these invaders proposed to themselves to march into the city, and to take possession of it in the name of the King of Great Britain.
Marcelino Ponce de Leon was the eldest son of one of the Spanish grandees, who ruled over the Viceroyalty of Buenos Aires; but his mother was a Creole, the daughter of a Creole, and Buenos Aires was his native city.
About the year 1780, Don Roderigo Ponce de Leon left Spain for Buenos Aires in the employ of the Spanish government. Don Roderigo was a scion of the noble house of Ponce de Leon, whose great ancestor, his namesake, the Marquis of Cadiz, is famed in song and story as the chief of those mighty warriors whose valour crushed for ever the power of the Moors in Spain. He it was who captured the fortress of Alhama, the first victory in that long series of victories which left Ferdinand and Isabella joint sovereigns of the whole of Spain. A victory chronicled in the Romance mui dolorosa del sitio y toma de Alhama, in which the distress and consternation of the Moors is vividly set forth:
"Por las calles y ventanas,
Mucho luto parecia,
Llora el Rey como fembra,
Que es mucho lo que perdia,
¡Ay de mi! ¡Alhama!"[1]