Of course, once the whites were driven out, the Caribs would no doubt turn upon the Imbangala.
Except that the Imbangala would turn on them first.
* * *
Maurício walked up beside Maria, coughed. “About that Coromantee man.”
Maria looked up. “Yes? You thought of something?”
“I questioned the crew. Even the captain. They didn’t remember the children, of course. What’re two slaves among hundreds? But they did know which ship left Elmina before they did. And where it was headed.”
“Well?”
“The Fenix. Bound for Havana.”
“Well, that’s something. I imagine there would be records of who was sold out of which ship, to which plantation. And there can’t have been that many children. But he certainly can’t go there and ask, can he?”
“He would need to learn Spanish, of course. And if he didn’t want to be a slave within seconds after stepping onto the dock, he would need a letter of manumission. Preferably, from a Spanish source.”
“Henrique could write the letter, couldn’t he? Portugal being under the Spanish crown, they would honor a Portuguese document. And I wouldn’t think a minor port official in Havana is going to have been informed that Henrique is a heretic.”
“Probably not. But then there’s the other problem. The financial one. He would have to buy his children. And he doesn’t have any money.”
“Well, it’s going to take him months, if not years, to learn Spanish, and more important, how he must act if he wants to be successful. The important thing is that we can give him a reason to hope.”
A moment later she added, “A reason to live.”
* * *
Carsten Claus looked out across the expanse of the Suriname. The river was perhaps half a mile across here. The vegetation on the far bank was dense; there could be an army of Africans hiding there, for all he knew. He wished he knew how the troublemakers were arming themselves. He suspected that the Portuguese in Belém do Pará, or the Spanish in Santiago de León de Caracas, were involved, to harass the USE. But would they arm slaves who had been taken off a Portuguese-crewed, Spanish-licensed ship? Could any of the colonists have been so short-sighted as to sell arms to the ex-slaves without permission?
To reassure the colonists, he had put the Eikhoorn on river patrol duty, and banned the Africans from fishing within a mile of the colony. He was waiting for the Eikhoorn to return from upriver; he had some questions for its skipper. But what he wanted most of all was for David de Vries to show up with a ship of force, and more colonists, so that they clearly outpowered and outnumbered the Africans. David should have been here a month ago.
At least, if their African informants were correct, he could now put a name to the problem: Imbangala. Maurício, sitting beside Carsten, had just explained to him that since 1615, the Portuguese of Luanda had used the Imbangala as mercenaries in their wars with Ndongo. Ndongo warriors, if captured in battle, were exported to the New World to work on plantations and in the mines. But the Imbangala? Since they were allies of the Portuguese in Luanda, Maurício hadn’t expected to find them sold into slavery. Perhaps these had disobeyed orders? Or had the Portuguese beaten the Ndongo into submission, and decided the Imbangala had outlived their usefulness?
Carsten expressed the hope that the Gustavans’ African friends were, indeed, friends. Maurício nodded, but offered no reassurances on that score. They sat in silence for a few minutes, then both realized simultaneously that they were no longer alone, and turned their heads.
“Forgive the interruption,” said Maria.
Carsten forced a smile. “How can a visit from you be considered an interruption?”
“You perhaps know that Maurício and I have been researching the whereabouts of the children of one of the Coromantees? We think it very likely that they were shipped to Havana. I wondered—could the Anti-Slavery Society send someone there, to find and redeem them? I am sure it would be very good publicity, to reunite the children with their father.”
Carsten swatted a mosquito. “The Society has discussed the possibility of redemption.”
“And?”
“Decided against it. First, because our financial resources are limited. Second, because we fear that any concerted policy of that kind would just encourage the slavers to fetch more slaves so they could sell them to us for a quick profit. We would be, what’s that American term, a ‘revolving door.’ Once naval resources can be spared to stop the slave trade at its source, and we have better funding, we may reconsider redemption.”
“So what would you recommend?”