Read Online 1636: Seas of Fortune by Iver P. Cooper - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Iver P. Cooper
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the Zwaanandael settlement had been wiped out, save for one survivor. David had been about to leave, with two ships, to go a-privateering in the Caribbean. Since the easiest return route to Europe was to go partway up the American coast before heading east, he logically had planned to stop at Zwaanandael along the way. Sell them European manufactures in return for tobacco, grain, and fresh meat. And perhaps do a bit of whaling as well.
The news of the massacre, of course, had been devastating to David and his fellow patroons. And surprising, because the Lenape had been friendly the previous year. But David had hoped that either the ill tidings would prove to have been exaggerated, or that the breach with the natives could somehow be remedied. At the least, that he could trade for furs.
Briefly, David had toyed with the idea of making a quick trip to Grantville, the mysterious town from the future, to see if its fabulous library could tell him whether Zwaanandael had indeed survived. But he couldn’t afford the time; it would have delayed him enough so that he would have been sailing in the Caribbean at the height of the hurricane season.
David’s longboat was beached just behind him. One sailor had stayed behind, to guard the boat and man its swivel gun. The small cannon was loaded with grapeshot. The yacht Eikhoorn stood just offshore, ready to lay down covering fire if need be. David’s own ship, the Walvis , was anchored in deeper water, closer to Cape Hinlopen. It was a four-hundred-ton fluyt, with eighteen cannon, which likewise were in range.
Still, David couldn’t help but feel a little anxious about how exposed he and his landing party were. The dark forest could conceal ten Indians, or a thousand.
The sailors spread out in a ragged line abreast. Ahead of them was Fort Zwaanandael.
David’s cousin, Heyndrick de Liefde, put his hand on David’s shoulder. “Where are the walls of stone? The moat and drawbridge? The portcullis?” He had been shown the settlement plans.
“Just what I was wondering,” David replied. “Especially since we went to such expense to provide them with everything they needed. And I checked the equipment myself, before it was loaded onto the Walvis .”
Instead of a granite wall, the settlement had merely a palisade. There was no portcullis, just a wooden gate, now hanging askew from a single hinge. The only part of the fort which was more or less as David expected was the great brick blockhouse, the warehouse and strong point of the colony. Although it was ash-black now.
“They should have given me command of the Walvis back then, not that idiot Heyes.”
Heyndrick nodded. “Even back home in Rotterdam, people were talking about him. He sent the Salm ahead, and lost it?” The Salm was a yacht, like the Eikhoorn , used for inshore work.
“That’s right. Taken by a Dunkirker, with all our harpooners, and their equipment. And he brought the Walvis back, nine months later, without a cargo.” That was sacrilege, to a Dutch merchant. “We lost a mint.”
Despite Heyes’ blundering, David and his fellow investors had been confident that the colonists could grow wheat, tobacco and cotton, and hunt the whales that frequented the bay from December to March. Now that seemed a forlorn hope indeed.
David poked around in the debris at the foot of the gate, and found the bones of a large dog. A spiked collar and several more arrowheads lay nearby. David detailed two men to stand guard at the gate, and the rest of his party followed David inside.
All was chaos, both inside the blockhouse and without. The fort, quite clearly, had been looted. All that was left were the items that the savages had no use for. And the skeletons. David had hoped to find a diary, which might reveal the reasons for the attack. If one had once existed, it had burned, along with the furnishings, when the invaders had overturned lamps in their pursuit of the settlers inside. Or in their haste to find
The news of the massacre, of course, had been devastating to David and his fellow patroons. And surprising, because the Lenape had been friendly the previous year. But David had hoped that either the ill tidings would prove to have been exaggerated, or that the breach with the natives could somehow be remedied. At the least, that he could trade for furs.
Briefly, David had toyed with the idea of making a quick trip to Grantville, the mysterious town from the future, to see if its fabulous library could tell him whether Zwaanandael had indeed survived. But he couldn’t afford the time; it would have delayed him enough so that he would have been sailing in the Caribbean at the height of the hurricane season.
David’s longboat was beached just behind him. One sailor had stayed behind, to guard the boat and man its swivel gun. The small cannon was loaded with grapeshot. The yacht Eikhoorn stood just offshore, ready to lay down covering fire if need be. David’s own ship, the Walvis , was anchored in deeper water, closer to Cape Hinlopen. It was a four-hundred-ton fluyt, with eighteen cannon, which likewise were in range.
Still, David couldn’t help but feel a little anxious about how exposed he and his landing party were. The dark forest could conceal ten Indians, or a thousand.
The sailors spread out in a ragged line abreast. Ahead of them was Fort Zwaanandael.
David’s cousin, Heyndrick de Liefde, put his hand on David’s shoulder. “Where are the walls of stone? The moat and drawbridge? The portcullis?” He had been shown the settlement plans.
“Just what I was wondering,” David replied. “Especially since we went to such expense to provide them with everything they needed. And I checked the equipment myself, before it was loaded onto the Walvis .”
Instead of a granite wall, the settlement had merely a palisade. There was no portcullis, just a wooden gate, now hanging askew from a single hinge. The only part of the fort which was more or less as David expected was the great brick blockhouse, the warehouse and strong point of the colony. Although it was ash-black now.
“They should have given me command of the Walvis back then, not that idiot Heyes.”
Heyndrick nodded. “Even back home in Rotterdam, people were talking about him. He sent the Salm ahead, and lost it?” The Salm was a yacht, like the Eikhoorn , used for inshore work.
“That’s right. Taken by a Dunkirker, with all our harpooners, and their equipment. And he brought the Walvis back, nine months later, without a cargo.” That was sacrilege, to a Dutch merchant. “We lost a mint.”
Despite Heyes’ blundering, David and his fellow investors had been confident that the colonists could grow wheat, tobacco and cotton, and hunt the whales that frequented the bay from December to March. Now that seemed a forlorn hope indeed.
David poked around in the debris at the foot of the gate, and found the bones of a large dog. A spiked collar and several more arrowheads lay nearby. David detailed two men to stand guard at the gate, and the rest of his party followed David inside.
All was chaos, both inside the blockhouse and without. The fort, quite clearly, had been looted. All that was left were the items that the savages had no use for. And the skeletons. David had hoped to find a diary, which might reveal the reasons for the attack. If one had once existed, it had burned, along with the furnishings, when the invaders had overturned lamps in their pursuit of the settlers inside. Or in their haste to find
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