Nor were the Dutch and the Miskitos the only ones taking advantage of the helplessness of the town. The native Indians and black slaves had clearly decided it was payback time. It was futile for a resident to protest that he or she was penniless, or that all his or her valuables had already been taken, for a slave or servant would happily deny the protest, and guide the invaders to the missing items. Perhaps collecting a finder’s fee in the process.
* * *
When the looting was complete, the invaders cheerfully recruited the townspeople to act as beasts of burden, making them tow the municipal cannon to the lake, and dump them in, much to the amusement of their former servants and slaves. The invaders also seized the boats at the waterfront, to prevent pursuit and also to transport more treasure.
Some of the local helpers decided that the invasion offered an excellent opportunity to permanently leave Spanish service. A few decided to see what Miskito or Dutch life had to offer; the rest fled to the hills.
David and the other leaders then had to decide whether to continue on another sixty or so miles, to Leon. Like Granada, Leon had never been attacked, and it lay even closer to the great silver mines of Nicaragua. It was tempting, and, curiously, even the Granadan merchants urged them to do this—apparently there was a serious rivalry between the two cities.
But David knew that some of the Granadans had fled the town. An unwalled place was easier to capture, but harder to then bottle up. David had to assume that word of the sack of Granada would reach Leon ahead of his force, even if they commandeered every nag in Granada. And as a practical matter, they were going to be hard-pressed to get all the Granadan treasure safely across the lake, and over or around the three rapids of the Rio San Juan.
Regretfully, they decided to save Leon for another day.
* * *
The Miskitos hadn’t gotten much of the treasure but were happy enough with all the ironmongery they had collected. In general, the Miskitos had an extraordinary desire for European goods. David had told Philip that most Indians would work to earn a handful of beads, or a knife, and that accomplished, would disappear into the forest, never to be seen again.
The Miskitos, in contrast, had an insatiable demand for everything European. Weapons, clothes, tools. But the holy of holies, so far as they were concerned, was a firearm. Philip could just imagine them back home in Grantville, discussing the relative merits of a bolt-action Remington Model 700 versus a lever-action Marlin Model 336. For hours.
A few were so fascinated by the really big guns—the cannon—that they joined the crew of the Walvis. Considering their skills as small-boat handlers and fishermen, David was happy to have them aboard. He promised that they would have passage when the Walvis went back to Suriname, to bring the colonists more European manufactures.
* * *
“The Puritans aren’t going to be happy, you know,” said Blauveldt.
David raised his eyebrows. “Why not? They don’t like the Spanish any more than we do.”
“While they befriend the Miskitos in almost any way they can, there is one important exception—they never, ever, give them firearms. As a matter of policy.”
“Well, then, maybe the Miskitos will decide that we are better friends than the English. Isn’t that just too bad?”
Mouth of the Rio San Juan
David was sorry when Blauveldt sailed off, but Rishworth and his charges were delighted. Rishworth had kept them hidden on the Walvis when the sailors and Miskitos were assembling for the ascent of the Rio San Juan, fearing that Blauveldt might recognize them as fugitive slaves and insist on returning them to Providence Island. Life had been a bit more relaxed for them while Blauveldt was off on the expedition to Granada, but they had to keep looking over their shoulder, so to speak, so that they wouldn’t be surprised by his return. Of course, there were some Miskitos that hadn’t gone off a-plundering, and they were recruited to serve as Rishworth’s early warning system.
When the Indians came in with the news that the returning warriors and sailors were only a day’s journey away, Rishworth hurried his people back onto the Walvis.
Once Blauveldt’s ship had disappeared over the horizon, the ex-slaves broke into an impromptu dance, much to the bemusement of the Walvis’ crew. David let it go on for a few minutes, then had a quiet word with Rishworth. Rishworth told them that their choices were to disembark and stay with the Miskitos, or join the crew of the Walvis. About half decided on the latter.
Rishworth was pleased. He would have more time to teach them the Gospel.
August 1634,
At Sea
David led his little squadron through the Yucatan channel. The wind freshened, and David ordered the sails reefed. That is, part of the sail gathered up, and tied to the yard by a small cord attached to the sail. Reefing was, for lack of a better term, a “new-old” idea. It was something his great-grandfather had done, but in David’s time it was out of favor. Instead, early-seventeenth-century ships normally carried small courses of sail, and added additional pieces if the air was light. The nautically minded up-timers thought it was crazy to fool around with adding these “bonnets” and “drabblers.” The more “progressive” down-timers, like David, had switched over to large courses with “reef points.” But David predicted that in his own great-grandchild’s generation, there would still be old salts who insisted on “bonneting.”