1684.] SURROUNDED BY THE SPANIARDS. cows feeding in the savannahs. Some 169 and asked them if they would be pleased to walk to their plantations, with many other such flouts; but our men answered never a word. It was about half ebb when one of our men took notice of a rock a good distance from the shore, just appearing above water; he showed it to his consorts and told them it would be a good castle for them if they could get thither. They all wished themselves there; for the Spaniards, who lay as yet at a good distance from them behind the bushes, as secure of their prey, began to whistle now and then a shot among them. Having therefore well considered the place, together with the danger they were in, they proposed to send one of the tallest men to try if the sea between them and the rock were fordable. This counsel they presently put in execution, and found it according to their desire. So they all marched over to the rock, where they remained till the canoe came to them; which was about seven hours. It was the latter part of the ebb when they first went over, and then the rock was dry; but when the tide of flood re turned again the rock was covered, and the water still flowing; so that if our canoe had stayed but one hour longer they might have been in as great danger of their lives from the sea as before from the Spaniards; for the tide rises here about eight feet. The Spaniards remained on the shore, expecting to see them destroyed, but never came from behind the bushes where they first planted themselves; they having not above three or four hand-guns, the rest of them being armed with lances. The Spaniards in these parts are very expert in heaving or darting the lance, with which, upon occasion, they will do great feats, especially in ambuscades; and by their good will they care not for fighting otherwise, but content themselves with standing aloof, threatening and calling names, at which they are as expert as at the other; so that if their tongues be quiet, we always take it for granted they have laid some ambush. Before night our canoe came aboard, and brought our men all safe. The day before we went from hence, Mr Edward Davis, the company's Quarter-master, was made Captain by consent of all the company; for it was his place by succession. The 20th day of July we sailed from this Bay of Caldera, with Captain Eaton, and our prize which we brought from the Galapagos, in company, directing course for Realejo. The wind was at N., which, although but an ordinary wind, yet carried us in three days abreast of our intended port. Realejo is the most remarkable land on all this coast; for there is a high-peaked burning mountain, called by the Spaniards Volcano Viejo, or the Old Volcano. The volcano may be easily known, because there is not any other so high a mountain near it, neither is there any that appears in the like form all along the coast; besides it smokes all the day, and in the night it sometimes sends forth flames of fire. This mountain may be seen twenty leagues. Being within three leagues of the harbour, the entrance into it may be seen. There is a small flat low island which makes the harbour. This harbour is capable of receiving 200 sail of ships. The best riding is near the main, where there is seven or eight fathoms water; clean hard sand. Realejo town is two leagues from hence, and there are two creeks that run towards it; the westernmost comes near the back-side of the town, the other runs up to the town; but neither ships nor barks can go so far. These creeks are very narrow, and the land on each side drowned, and full of red mangrovetrees. About a mile and a half below the town, on the banks of the east creek, the Spaniards had cast up a strong breastwork; it was likewise reported they had another on the west creek, both so advantageously placed that ten men might with ease keep 200 men from landing. We were now in sight of the volcano, being, by estimation, seven or eight leagues from the shore; and the mountain bearing NE., we took in our topsails, and hauled up our courses, intending to go with our canoes into the harbour in the night. In the evening we had a very hard tornado out of the NE., with much thunder, lightning, and rain. The violence of the wind did not last long, yet it was 11 o'clock at night before we got out our canoes, and then it was quite calm. We rowed in directly for the shore, and thought to have reached it before day; but it was 9 o'clock in the morning before we got into the harbour. When we came within a league of the Island of Realejo, that makes the harbour, we saw a house on it; and coming nearer we saw two or three men, who stood and looked on us till we came within half-a-mile of the island, then they went into their canoe, which lay on the inside of the island, and rowed towards the main; but we overtook them before they got over, and brought them back again to the island. There was a horseman right against us on the main when we took the canoe, who immediately rode away towards the town as fast as he could. rest of our canoes rode heavily, and did not come to the island till 12 o'clock; therefore we were forced to stay for them. Before they came, we examined the prisoners, who told us that they were set there to watch, for the Governor of Realejo received a letter about a month before, wherein he was advised of some enemies come into the sea, and therefore admonished to be careful; that immediately thereupon the Governor had caused a house to be built on this island, and ordered four men to be continually there to watch night and day; and if they saw any ship coming thither, they were to give notice of it. They said they did not expect to see boats or canoes, but looked out for a ship. At first they took us in our advanced canoe to be some men that had been cast away and lost our ship; till, seeing three or four canoes more, they began to suspect what we were. They told us likewise, that the horseman we saw did come to them every morning, and that in less than The 1684.] THE ATTACK ON REALEJO GIVEN UP. an hour's time he could be at the town. When Captain Eaton and his canoes came ashore, we told them what had happened. It was now three hours since the horseman rode away, and we could not expect to get to the town in less than two hours; in which time the Governor, having notice of our coming, might be provided to receive us at his breastworks; therefore we thought it best to defer this design till another time. Here we stayed till 4 o'clock in the afternoon; then our ships being come within a league of the shore, we all went on board, and steered for the Gulf of Amapalla, intending there to careen our ships. The 26th of July, Captain Eaton came aboard our ship to consult with Captain Davis how to get some Indians to assist us in careening. It was concluded, that when we came near the Gulf, Captain Davis should take two canoes, well manned, and go before, and Captain Eaton should stay aboard. According to this agreement, Captain Davis went away for the Gulf the next day. The Gulf of Amapalla is a great arm of the sea, running eight or ten leagues into the country. It is bounded on the S. side of its entrance with Point Casivina, and on the NW. side with St Michael's Mount. Both these places are very remarkable. Point Casivina is in Lat. 12° 40′ N. It is a high round point, which at sea appears like an island, because the land within it is very low. St Michael's Mount is a very high peaked hill, not very steep the land at the foot of it on the SE. side is low and even for at least a mile. From this low land the Gulf of Amapalla enters on that side. Between this low land and Point Casivina are two considerable high islands; the southernmost is called Mangera, the other is called Amapal 1 Marked in the modern maps as the Gulf of Fonseca. The southern headland is Cape Cosiguina, called Casivina by Dampier; the northern, which he called St Michael's Mount, is Cape Candadillo. 171 la; and they are two miles asunder.2 There are a great many more islands in this Bay, but none inhabited as these. There is one pretty large island, belonging to a nunnery, as the Indians told us; this was stocked with bulls and cows. Three or four Indians lived there to look after the cattle, for the sake of which we often frequented this island while we lay in the bay. They are all low islands, except Amapalla and Mangera. There are two channels to come into this gulf; one between Point Casivina and Mangera, the other between Mangera and Amapalla; the latter is the best. It was into this gulf that Captain Davis was gone with the two canoes, to endeavour for a prisoner, to gain intelligence, if possible, before our ships came in. He came the first night to Mangera, but for want of a pilot did not know where to look for the town. In the morning he found a great many canoes hauled up on the bay; and from that bay found a path which led him and his company to the town. The Indians saw our ships in the evening coming towards the island, and being before informed of enemies in the sea, they kept scouts out all night for fear; who seeing Captain Davis coming, ran into the town, and alarmed all the people. When Captain Davis came thither, they all ran into the woods. Friar happened to be there at this time; who, being unable to ramble The 2 Mangera is described as a high round island, about two leagues in compass, and appearing from the sea like a tall grove. There is mention made of one town, about the middle of the island. Amapalla is much larger than Mangera, with two towns on it. The Indians of both places cultivate maize, a few plantains, and the hog plum. The towns were gov erned from St Michael's, to which they paid tribute in maize. There was but one friar or padre living amongst them, who exacted a tenth from the natives, and who was the only white man on the island. The into the woods, fell into Captain | able report; therefore he desired them Davis's hands; there were two Indian to come up to their town. Captain boys with him who were likewise Davis and his men immediately taken. Captain Davis went only to ascended the hill, the Friar going get a prisoner, therefore was well before; and they were received with a satisfied with the Friar, and imme- great deal of affection by the Indians. diately came down to the sea-side. The Cacique and Secretary embraced He went from thence to the Island of Captain Davis; and the other Indians Amapalla, carrying the Friar and the received his men with the like ceretwo Indian boys with him. These mony. were his pilots to conduct him to the landing-place, where they arrived about noon. They made no stay here, but left three or four men to look after the canoes, and Captain Davis, with the rest, marched to the town, taking the Friar with them. The town, as is before noted, is about a mile from the landing-place, standing in a plain on the top of a hill, having a very steep ascent to go to it. All the Indians stood on the top of the hill, waiting Captain Davis's coming. The Secretary, mentioned before, had no great kindness for the Spaniards. It was he that persuaded the Indians to wait Captain Davis's coming; for they were all running into the woods; but he told them, that if any of the Spaniards' enemies came thither, it was not to hurt them, but the Spaniards, whose slaves they were; and that their poverty would protect them. This man, with the Cacique, stood more forward than the rest, at the bank of the hill, when Captain Davis with his company appeared beneath. They called out therefore in Spanish, demanding of our men what they were, and whence they came? To whom Captain Davis and his men replied, they were Biscayers, and were sent thither by the King of Spain to clear those seas from enemies; that their ships were coming into the gulf to careen, and that they came thither before the ships to seek a convenient place for it, as also to desire the Indians' assistance. The Secretary, who, as I said before, was the only man that could speak Spanish, told them that they were welcome, for he had a great respect for any Old Spain men, especially for the Biscayers, of whom he had heard a very honour These salutations being ended, they all marched towards the church, for that is the place of all public meetings, and all plays and pastimes are acted there also; therefore in the churches belonging to Indian towns they have all sorts of vizards and strange antic dresses both for men and women, and abundance of musical hautboys and strumstrums. strumstrum is made somewhat like a cittern; most of those that the Indians use are made of a large gourd, cut in the midst, and a thin board laid over the hollow, which is fastened to the sides. This serves for the belly, over which the strings are placed. The nights before any holidays, or the nights ensuing, are the times when they all meet to make merry. Their mirth consists in singing, dancing, and sporting in those antic habits, and using as many antic gestures. If the moon shine they use but few torches; if not, the church is full of light. They meet at these times all sorts of both sexes. All the Indians that I have been acquainted with who are under the Spaniards seem to be more melancholy than other Indians that are free; and at these public meetings, when they are in the greatest of their jollity, their mirth seems to be rather forced than real. Their songs are very melancholy and doleful, so is their music; but whether it be natural to the Indians to be thus melancholy, or the effect of their slavery, I am not certain. But I have always been prone to believe that they are then only condoling their misfortunes, the loss of their country and liberties, which, although those that are now living do not know nor remember what it was to be free, yet there seems to be a deep 1684.] FAILURE AT AMAPALLA. impression in their thoughts of the slavery which the Spaniards have brought them under, increased probably by some traditions of their ancient freedom. Captain Davis intended, when they were all in the church, to shut the doors and then make a bargain with them, letting them know what he was, and so draw them afterwards by fair means to our assistance, the Friar being with him, who had also promised to engage them to it. But before they were all in the church, one of Captain Davis's men pushed one of the Indians, to hasten him into the church. The Indian immediately ran away, and all the rest, taking the alarm, sprang out of the church like deer; it was hard to say which was first; and Captain Davis, who knew nothing of what happened, was left in the church only with the Friar. When they were all fled, Captain Davis's men fired, and killed the Secretary; and thus our hopes perished by the indiscretion of one foolish fellow. In the afternoon the ships came into the gulf between Point Casivina and Mangera, and anchored near the Island of Amapalla, on the E. side, in ten fathoms water, clean hard sand. In the evening Captain Davis and his company came aboard, and brought the Friar with them, who told Captain Davis, that if the Secretary had not been killed he could have sent him a letter by one of the Indians that was taken at Mangera, and persuaded him to come to us; but now the only way was to send one of those Indians to seek the Cacique, and [he] himself would instruct him what to say, and did not question but the Cacique would come on his word. The next day we sent ashore one of the Indians, who before night returned with the Cacique and six other Indians, who remained with us all the time that we stayed here. These Indians did us good service, especially in piloting us to an island, where we killed beef whenever we wanted; and for this their service we satisfied them to their hearts' content. It was at this Island of Amapalla that a party 173 of Englishmen and Frenchmen came afterwards and stayed a great while, and at last landed on the main, and marched overland to the Cape River, which disembogues into the North Seas near Cape Gracias a Dios, and is therefore called the Cape River.1 Near the head of this river they made barklogs (which I shall describe in the next Chapter), and so went into the North Seas. This was the way that Captain Sharpe had proposed to go if he had been put to it, for this way was partly known to Privateers by the discovery that was made into the country about thirty years since by a party of Englishmen that went up that river in canoes, about as far as the place where these Frenchmen made their bark-logs; there they landed and marched to a town called Segovia in the country. They were near a month getting up the river, for there are many cataracts where they were often forced to leave the river and haul their canoes ashore over the land till they were past the cataracts, and then launch their canoes again into the river. I have discoursed [with] several men that were in that expedition, and if I mistake not, Captain Sharpe was one of them. But to return to our voyage in hand; when both our ships were clean, and our water filled, Captain Davis and Captain Eaton broke off consortships. Captain Eaton took aboard of his ships 400 packs of flour, and sailed out of the gulf the 2d of September. CHAPTER VI. THE 3d of September 1684, we sent the Friar ashore, and left the Indians in possession of the prize which we brought in hither, though she was still half-laden with flour; and we sailed out with the land-wind, passing between Amapalla and Mangera. When we were a league out, 1 Variously called in modern maps the Vanquez, or Yanks, or Tints, or Segovia, or Coco River. |
