The king’s word: Colonial contracting and financial capitalism in Moskitia during the scramble for Central America, 1824–42

Abstract

This article examines how Miskitu King Robert Charles Frederic (1824–42) used colonial contracts with foreign merchants to advance his political agenda in Moskitia, on Central America’s Caribbean coast. Drawing on European and Central American archives, this study challenges narratives that portray Indigenous leaders as passive actors in colonial expansion, highlighting how the king strategically wielded contracts to facilitate the import of foreign capital through concessions and loans. His mastery of international finance enabled resistance to imperial domination while allowing him to consolidate power, maintain independence, and participate in nineteenth-century Atlantic political transformations. However, this strategy compelled him to facilitate the entry of financial capitalism into Moskitia, subsequently defining his kingdom’s fiscal governance and external relations. By examining Robert Charles Frederic’s learning process in navigating Caribbean political and Atlantic financial systems, this article contributes to scholarship on Indigenous agency in colonial encounters and reveals how peripheral actors mediated the global spread of economic institutions.

On 7 June 1836, a contract was signed in Moskitia—a region on the Caribbean coast of present-day Honduras and Nicaragua (see Figure 1). Miskitu King Robert Charles Frederic (1790s–1842; hereafter, Robert) granted Bryan Meighan, a merchant from nearby British Honduras, a tract of land along the ‘Hawa river’ (Wawa) on Moskitia’s eastern coast. Meighan received authorization to settle on either bank and harvest mahogany and other valuable timber.¹ This contract was not unique. That day, two similar agreements were signed with other foreign merchants, authorizing them to exploit different sides of the Wanks River (Wangki or Coco).²

Figure 1. Map of Moskitia. Source: Thomas Strangeways, Sketch of the Mosquito Shore (Edinburgh: W. Blackwood, 1822), John Carter Brown Library.

These were among several contracts—which historians commonly identify as colonial contracts—established during Robert’s reign between 1824 and 1842. The Moskitia phenomenon illustrates a broader nineteenth-century trend wherein European expansion occurred through legal agreements rather than military conquest. Such arrangements encompassed diverse forms aimed at transferring (often partial, sometimes full) control of sovereign territories to foreign entities.³ This phenomenon took place not only in Africa’s well-documented ‘scramble’ but was also characteristic of the Americas.⁴ Across Central America, independent states emerging from Spanish colonial rule became targets for British, French, Spanish, and US interests seeking colonization rights.⁵

While traditional historiography portrayed these contracts as mechanisms of European domination achieved through coercion or deception—as illustrated by accounts where land grants were allegedly secured through exploiting Miskitu leaders’ fondness for alcohol—recent scholarship reveals a more complex picture.⁶ Studies have shown that local actors, including Indigenous peoples and African descendants, pursued their political interests where European authority was weak through contractual relationships.⁷ Through colonial contracts, these relationships existed within spaces of shifting power dynamics, essentially depending on accommodating shared practices that structured political exchange and negotiation.⁸

Yet as Richard White reminds us, the spaces within which contractual cohabitation took place were not just political: they were multidimensional, encompassing networks of ‘economic, political, cultural, and social ties to meet the demands of a particular historical situation’.⁹ This multidimensionality is evident in contracts signed by Robert. While these agreements rested on political and cultural arrangements mediated by legal language—where an Indigenous leader granted foreign actors rights to exploit resources without fear of reprisal—their distinctive feature lay in their codification of financial practices. Robert’s reign indeed saw colonial contracts that served his funding needs, promoting foreign capital import through two mechanisms: initially through concessions granting resource extraction rights for regular payments, and as his rule advanced, through direct loans with repayment through monetary instalments or resource delivery. In both formats, the king positioned himself as the sovereign counterpart to foreign merchants and creditors, accepting at times the role of borrower with his ‘royal word’ serving as the primary security for these transactions.

This article moves beyond frameworks that view colonial contracts as instruments of European domination or tools of political cohabitation. It tells the story of these contractual agreements through the life of their architect, Miskitu King Robert. This approach reveals how these colonial contracts constituted complex arrangements with their own histories, challenging their characterization as simple sovereignty concessions. As financial instruments, these constituted tools of personal resistance against foreign ambitions while facilitating the economic and political improvement of Moskitia—at least as understood by Robert. For the king, contracting was a learning experience: he benefited from foreigners’ understanding of his political position and increasingly presented himself as Moskitia’s effective ruler to benefit from foreign capital. Robert not only improved his lifestyle but also established himself as a key player in the scramble for Central America, negotiating on equal terms with foreign powers and strategically pitting European actors against each other for resources and partial political control. However, this strategy impacted Moskitia’s political and economic organization. Increasing reliance on capital imports gradually structured Robert’s political engagements, forcing him to conform to Atlantic financial institutions, especially those governing credit management in crises. Essentially, contracting compelled Robert to facilitate financial capitalism’s entry into Moskitia, which subsequently defined his kingdom’s fiscal governance and relations with the world.

To tell the story of these contractual arrangements, this article draws on correspondence from archives in Belize, England, and France, mostly related to those who benefited from contracts with Robert. Given limited manuscript sources, this research also incorporates accounts by foreign merchants and representatives who interacted directly with the king. While informative, these published and unpublished sources were coloured by racial stereotypes and contradictory characterizations—some describe his character as ‘none of the best’, while others portray him as welcoming foreigners ‘with open arms’. Such accounts require careful interpretation, as they likely reflect perceptions foreigners wished to project onto Indigenous elites.¹⁰ Yet travel writings also capture moments where, as foreign interlocutors presented themselves as imperial, business, or military powers, Robert similarly engaged in power projection.¹¹ Though illustrative of performances of authority, these interactions produced concrete diplomatic and economic relationships while providing insights into how Robert displayed his claimed authority and aspects of Moskitia’s political and economic conditions—though they ultimately tell us more about the king’s relationships with foreigners than with locals.¹²

Reconstructing the life story of Robert contributes to a political and economic history of Moskitia. Early studies privileged foreign—especially British—imperial involvement over Central American Indigenous leadership.¹³ Yet Moskitia, never an official European colony during his lifetime, exemplifies a place where imperial powers were not absent but certainly limited and complex.¹⁴ Until the first half of the nineteenth century, Moskitia existed in a state of ambiguous sovereignty, claimed by imperial powers but rarely under definitive foreign jurisdiction. In this light, historians have recontextualized Miskitu leaders within broader debates about Indigenous governance, recognizing them as part of a dynasty dating to at least the eighteenth century whose roles evolved from cultural intermediaries to aspiring centralized rulers, albeit never fully overcoming internal opposition.¹⁵ Important works by Daniel Mendiola and Karl Offen reveal Moskitia not as homogeneous but as comprising diverse ethnic groups who gained political prominence through foreign commercial relations, ultimately forming powerful Afro-Indigenous political alliances integrated into Central American networks.¹⁶ Yet Robert remains under-examined even in revisionist accounts, where he exemplifies the ‘stereotype of the Miskito kings as intoxicated puppets who gave away great stretches of land’.¹⁷ Recent scholarship has begun rehabilitating nineteenth-century Miskitu leaders, illuminating their political and economic agency while reinscribing Moskitia within the broader transformations of the Age of Revolutions.¹⁸ This article contributes to these efforts by contextualizing Robert’s engagement in colonial contracting as a coherent political strategy that, when understood within broader Atlantic context, sought to enhance his legitimacy locally despite fractured regional political divisions and transforming economic landscapes.

Tracing Robert’s contractual arrangements also serves as a representative case study of the global economic context in which these originated, illuminating how their proliferation impacted his relationships within and beyond Moskitia.¹⁹ While recent histories of Moskitia have revealed the complexities of Afro-Indigenous politics, these have examined such developments with little consideration of how these integrated within broader global contexts.²⁰ Yet as Francesca Trivellato or Natalie Zemon Davis argue, resituating allegedly ‘marginal’ actors—in this case a Miskitu ruler considered an alcoholic puppet—within larger contexts challenges assumptions about their supposed differences and contests their alleged inferiorities. More importantly, accounting for their different yet eventually commensurable voices reveals not just their integration into unsuspected global connections but also qualifies and pluralizes stories of how changes and increasing interconnections were navigated globally.²¹

While contact with Europeans in extending global connections generally, and in Moskitia specifically, is well documented, global historians debate the importance of considering their more local foundations.²² As such, rather than merely adding Moskitia to preconceived patterns of globalization, this article takes it as its precise starting point: a place and polity which, through a study of Robert’s financial contracting, progressively reveals itself not just as connected to unexpected, widely distributed Atlantic spaces but also as one whose local particularities provide the foundation for understanding diverse historical processes and their historiographies. As facilitator of colonial contracts, the Miskitu king established what Anne Stoler describes as ‘micro-sites of governance’—locations where Indigenous peoples and diverse imperial actors engaged in negotiations and their respective histories ‘compare and converge’²³—in this case, Central American politics and international finance.

Taking a borrower’s perspective on the financial dimensions of these colonial contracts thus contributes to a broader history of how financial institutions spread beyond Europe.²⁴ Economic historians have documented financial capitalism’s transformation between the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, especially regarding the performative displays of power necessary for maintaining credit relations.²⁵ Financial actors, particularly borrowers, needed to publicly demonstrate their ability to honour commitments and present themselves as credible counterparts in a global context lacking clear legal enforcement mechanisms, especially when their diplomatic recognition remained contested.²⁶ While historians recognise public debt as central to this process, they struggle to explain how financial institutions expanded beyond Europe, typically wavering between efficient mimicry of foreign financial practices or violent imposition through European imperial expansion²⁷—with colonial contracting allegedly playing a prominent role in the latter. These interpretations are problematic, as they portray imperial expansion and capitalist growth as inherently intertwined while diminishing local actors’ capacity to strategically adopt and reshape practices according to their specific contexts. This is especially relevant in regions like nineteenth-century Moskitia, where European powers did not systematically prioritize violence and Indigenous peoples selectively adopted European practices.²⁸ Interestingly, recent (yet predominantly North American-centric) scholarship reveals how economic institutions functioned as both tools of imperial dispossession and vehicles for local political empowerment, with Indigenous polities holding a monetary and financial role in the early development of American capitalism.²⁹

Contracting foreigners 101, 1824–26

In early April 1824, Robert arrived in Belize, capital of British Honduras, carrying only the royal Miskitu crown.³⁰ His older brother, King George Frederic, had been found dead on a beach weeks earlier—some attributed this to excessive drinking, while others suspected assassination. The deceased king had worked to consolidate royal power, though his authority remained contested. Throughout his reign, George Frederic had strategically intensified relations with foreign colonial enterprises to advance the region’s political and economic standing. This centralization of monarchical authority, however, had provoked significant resistance from traditional Miskitu elites and foreign merchants who viewed such consolidation with growing resentment.³¹

A young Miskitu, Robert stood a little under 160 cm tall, with a dark complexion and sharp, perceptive character.³² He claimed the throne as legitimate heir to a line of Miskitu rulers stretching back nearly two centuries.³³ Insisting on ceremony befitting his position, he requested a coronation as grand as his brother’s 1816 celebration, which had been validated by British merchants in Belize and numerous Indigenous chieftains.³⁴ Born sometime in the 1790s as the second son of King George II, Robert’s early life remains largely undocumented.³⁵ In 1805, he accompanied his brother to Jamaica, following the tradition of educating Miskitu princes abroad. In Kingston, both received a British education funded by Belizean and Jamaican authorities. Surrounded by English tutors, dignitaries, and Caribbean merchants, he followed an educational programme designed to prepare future Miskitu kings to facilitate foreign trade.³⁶ Yet after George Frederic’s coronation in 1816, Robert vanished from records, remaining in his brother’s shadow until his appearance in Belize in April 1824.

Robert’s arrival in Belize with minimal accompaniment reflected challenges to his legitimacy stemming from Moskitia’s internal political divisions. The region was split between two political-ethnic factions: the Zambo Miskitu in the north, who claimed African and Indigenous ancestry and from whom Robert descended, and the Tawira Miskitu in the south, who identified as Indigenous and maintained governance under a separate ‘Governor’ title. This division had intensified following a conflict in the 1790s. Consequently, though Robert claimed sovereignty over all Moskitia, his authority remained contested in southern territories.³⁷

The prince’s landing caught the British Honduras superintendent, Major Edward Codd, unprepared. Having assumed office only the previous year, Codd found himself uncertain how to respond to the prince’s appearance. Consulting the sparse notes left by his predecessor, Codd’s primary concern was Robert’s solitary arrival—without entourage of local rulers whose endorsement traditionally legitimized Miskitu sovereignty. Codd also wrestled with practical considerations, particularly regarding the appropriate expenditure for organizing a coronation ceremony and distributing customary gifts to honour a distinguished Indigenous visitor to the colony. Despite his reservations, Codd informed his superiors at the Secretary of State for War and the Colonies in London that he had granted the Miskitu prince’s request. He arranged a coronation ceremony for Robert identical to his brother’s—a lavish affair attended by British merchants from the colony, with only a handful of Indigenous representatives whom Codd had instructed the prince to invite from Moskitia. Following the ceremony, Robert was crowned and recognized as the new Miskitu sovereign. To secure the goodwill of the installed king, Codd authorized gifts valued at £1,000, matching what had been allocated for his brother’s coronation.³⁸

In addition to his embarrassment and likely incompetence, the superintendent’s eagerness to replicate the ceremony organized for Robert’s predecessor, without securing the support of regional chieftains, can be explained by his own words, citing the ‘state of this continent generally and the uncertainty as to the intentions of France & Spain, or even our own Government as to … the affairs appertaining generally to Spanish America’.³⁹ Colombia had sovereign claims over Moskitia, forbidding anyone from establishing a settlement without their consent.⁴⁰ Spain, of course, had not yet abandoned its claims over the continent.⁴¹ Codd also alluded to rumours about France’s intentions to threaten Belizean merchant interests in the region. Faced with these various threats, whether real or not, His British Majesty’s government remained alarmingly silent, at least in the eyes of Codd and the traders who had been active in the region for decades.

Codd thus believed it was necessary to have the ‘king crowned with some attention’. The superintendent of British Honduras, along with the merchants of the colony, certainly hoped that the new king would adopt a conciliatory policy toward them. After all, was not Robert described as a ‘steady and shrewd character’?⁴² His support would undoubtedly have ensured the continuation of privileged access to the natural resources that fuelled the colony’s prosperous trade, especially mahogany. It would also have secured the development of the strategic commercial position between the northern and southern parts of the American continent, without the risk of being attacked by armed Indigenous people.⁴³

Codd could derive a sense of achievement from having masterminded the coronation of Robert. For him, there was little to grumble about concerning the state of commerce between British Honduras and Moskitia. From the superintendent’s viewpoint, the years following Robert’s accession to the throne were marked by relative peace in relations with the Miskitu. The period was tranquil enough that there was consideration of sending missionaries to Moskitia.⁴⁴ Historians too viewed the years after the coronation as calm and noted that the English exerted ‘more influence’ along Moskitia.⁴⁵ Codd only had to deal with a few tensions in the region, including adjudicating the case of a pirate charged with murdering an English merchant in Moskitia.⁴⁶ Furthermore, rumours of a French invasion of Central America subsided not long afterwards.

Codd’s impression notwithstanding, Moskitia had already attracted diverse foreign interests. While no French operation materialized (yet) to validate the superintendent’s fears, the Belizean merchants were not alone in courting the Miskitu king.⁴⁷ Following his coronation, various traders sought access to Moskitia, including Peter Lelacheur. This Quaker from Guernsey, a British crown dependency, had built his fortune through illicit North Atlantic commerce and capturing American vessels during the War of 1812.⁴⁸ After peace returned, Lelacheur pivoted his business model toward Moskitia in 1820. Trading with neighbouring countries there yielded him such prosperity that he established a free school for Guernsey’s labouring poor.⁴⁹ Through his establishment at Cape Gracias a Dios, Lelacheur cultivated connections with the Miskitu leadership. His closeness to Robert enabled him to advance funds for the prince’s journey to Belize, culminating in the 1824 coronation. This transaction created a debt of about $2,100 (silver dollars) that Lelacheur could leverage for business advantages. As repayment, Robert granted him a tract of approximatively 4,500 square kilometres in south-east Moskitia, south of the Escondido River, the following year.⁵⁰

In this case, the concession that Robert provided to Lelacheur continued a tradition of contractual relationships established by previous Miskitu rulers. While the exact text of this land grant remains unidentified, historians have documented that Miskitu leaders commonly granted substantial territories to foreigners, typically in exchange for commodities.⁵¹ For Robert, however, the transaction with Lelacheur represented a progressive departure from his predecessors’ practices, particularly through its inclusion of a monetary advance. The funds obtained from the merchant not only covered the expenses of his coronation in Belize but also supported his lifestyle as Miskitu king, which witnesses described as luxurious. According to these accounts, he maintained multiple residences, owned significant herds of cattle, and regularly dressed in fine European military clothing.⁵²

The king’s strategy transcended mere debt repayment, aiming to adopt a regional development model where foreign enterprises drove economic improvement. Spanish American polities frequently granted property rights, limited sovereignty, or resource export privileges (paid in foreign currencies) to secure infrastructure development—echoing John Charles Chasteen’s concept of ‘Progress’.⁵³ Guatemala’s later engagements with European colonial companies exemplified this approach.⁵⁴ Rather than innovating entirely, Robert built upon his late brother’s tactics, which had encouraged Carib and British settlements to stimulate economic improvement.⁵⁵ Following this precedent, Robert worked to strengthen his regional political position, particularly against traditional Tawira Miskitu leaders, by facilitating international trade through foreign and Creole merchants and, increasingly, access to international capital.

This transaction with Lelacheur also stemmed from necessity, as borrowing from more-distant sources had grown increasingly difficult for the Miskitu monarchy. Robert’s brother had previously attempted to raise capital on the London market through a sovereign loan. Though intended to finance Moskitia’s economic and political development, this venture collapsed spectacularly in 1824—becoming infamous as the Poyais scandal. The failure closed European capital markets to Miskitu leadership, as financial ventures backed by American Indigenous authorities were subsequently viewed with suspicion.⁵⁶

Yet events departed from Robert’s expectations. Rather than developing his grant, Lelacheur returned to Guernsey and transferred the land rights to British merchants who left the territory undeveloped for years.⁵⁷ Lelacheur’s departure might have been motivated by public accusations of his involvement in the previous Miskitu king’s assassination.⁵⁸ Nevertheless, Lelacheur’s unproductive land grant represents an early misstep that reveals the inexperience of the new Miskitu ruler. Lacking oversight mechanisms, Robert found himself with an undeveloped territory that risked undermining his broader developmental plans. Still, Robert quickly experienced the growing interest of foreign merchants in securing access to Moskitia—a hallmark of the nineteenth-century scramble. This eagerness was evident among merchants established in Moskitia and British Honduras officials who sought exclusive exploitation rights through land grants.

More-distant interests also began expressing their desire to participate in Moskitia’s scramble more vocally. For instance, in early 1826, Earl Henry Bathurst, British Secretary of State for War and Colonies, received correspondence from John Diston Powles representing the ‘Colombian Mining Association’, a company incorporated in 1825 to exploit Colombian silver mines.⁵⁹ After costly explorations near Bogotá faltered due to transportation challenges and labour issues, it considered redirecting to northern Veraguas.⁶⁰ Despite holding Colombian concessions, Powles doubted the government’s ability to guarantee rights or operational security, noting to Bathurst that their intended site ‘is situated near the country of the [Valiente] Indians, who acknowledge and obey the Mosquito King’. Acknowledging the Valientes’ historical hostility toward Spanish mining operations, Powles sought to leverage the Miskitu–British relationship, requesting that Bathurst instruct the Miskitu king ‘to promote in the Indian Tribes who submit to his rule a favourable disposition’ toward his company’s activities.⁶¹

Though withholding British governmental support, Bathurst asked Superintendent Codd whether he might recommend Powles’s mining employees to the Miskitu king. Yet intensifying competition for Central American territories ultimately derailed Bathurst’s initiative. While archival sources do not confirm Codd’s response, he may have been reluctant to act given closer ties with Belizean merchants, whose interests he had previously championed in pamphlets against accusations of slave trading and dishonest commerce.⁶²

The scramble goes international, 1826–32

Ultimately, Diston Powles’s matter became moot. The Colombian Mining Association’s activities were halted by an international financial crisis, the Latin American sovereign debt crisis of 1826, which put the brakes on British interests in Moskitia more generally. For British merchants interested in the commercial potential of the area, their focus shifted toward the necessity of renegotiating their investments with the American states to which money had been lent. Joint stock companies that had been created in the wake of the Latin American investment boom could not fulfil the often overly ambitious promises of their prospectuses and, in some cases, declared bankruptcy.⁶³

The retreat of British ventures created opportunities for other enterprises with more geographically distant interests. This transition fundamentally altered foreign involvement in the region. Despite limited success with Lelacheur, Robert pursued similar arrangements with others. Notable among these, it appears, was Mrs Maar, a Dutch merchant who gained his trust as an advisor. He granted her land where, in the late 1820s, she envisioned establishing a new city called Maarbourg.⁶⁴ Similarly intriguing was his association with Thomas Holtman, a self-styled Swedish admiral who accompanied the king during his travels, though details of their arrangement remain limited.⁶⁵

Lelacheur also resurfaced after a period in Guernsey. Anticipating growing foreign interest in Moskitia, he sought exclusive accreditation from the English Board of Trade in 1829 to serve as an agent for ‘commercial intercourse with the various independent Indian nations in the neighbourhood of Cape Gracias a Dios on the Mosquito Shore’.⁶⁶ Yet his petition was denied based on a report by Thomas Cockburn, the newly appointed superintendent of British Honduras. He questioned Lelacheur’s character and argued that granting the request would implicitly recognize his land grant, potentially entangling Britain in territorial disputes between the Miskitu and neighbouring American republics. More significantly, Cockburn contended that acknowledging Lelacheur in Moskitia’s commercial landscape would infringe upon British Honduras merchants’ interests.⁶⁷ In other words, British Honduras officials grew alarmed by interest in Moskitia’s resources from beyond the colony.

Robert strategically leveraged this foreign attention to increase the price of entry to his kingdom. Since his 1824 coronation, British Honduran merchants had maintained gift-giving traditions to secure access to Moskitia’s valuable mahogany as their colony’s resources depleted. The situation intensified in December 1829 when a Miskitu delegation in Belize complained that the £500 in gifts from local merchants was inadequate for maintaining their alliance. The superintendent added a £50 gift directly to Robert with a letter expressing regret for past neglect and assurances of continued British friendship. He also warned superiors that without annual tribute of £250–£300 to the king and chiefs, Robert might redirect his ‘attachment and friendship upon the British which the Americans and Spaniards are so anxious [he] should do’.⁶⁸ Though his representatives returned satisfied, Robert considered them insufficient for securing exclusive commercial access to Moskitia for English merchants and continued pursuing contracts with other foreigners.

A few weeks later, on 18 February 1830, the French brig La Glâneuse anchored at Cape Gracias a Dios. The vessel had sailed from Le Havre representing the Compagnie de la Neustrie, a Parisian colonial enterprise.⁶⁹ Founded by a Norman merchant based in Paris, the company held exploitation rights over part of Moskitia acquired from an agent of the former Miskitu king, George Frederic. Captain Fleury had been tasked with assessing the region’s commercial potential. His mission, however, went beyond reconnaissance. Following Robert’s coronation, the Compagnie sought confirmation of the exploitation rights granted by the late Miskitu king. Fleury aimed to secure the French colonial company’s interests from Robert, whom they regarded as holding ‘supreme power throughout the land’. Fleury’s diplomatic efforts were thorough. As La Glâneuse arrived at Cape Gracias a Dios, it honoured the Miskitu king with six cannon shots—a salute normally reserved for high dignitaries and not required for merchant vessels. Robert was welcomed aboard and treated to a banquet. In reciprocation, the king presented Fleury with a parrot from his collection, named Robert, as a token for the Compagnie de la Nouvelle-Neustrie’s directors. In Fleury’s words, he was ‘received with open arms’.⁷⁰

Robert’s generosity exceeded the parrot gift. The king declared that the ‘Compagnie de la Neustrie can do whatever it wants there, to the great satisfaction of the king and the country’s inhabitants’. He urged Fleury to persuade his employers to bring industrious settlers, promising ‘immense results that will yield incalculable advantages, beyond all human predictions’. Essentially, Fleury portrayed Moskitia as potentially one of America’s richest regions, globally unrivalled.⁷¹ Yet rather than renewing his brother’s northern concession, Robert offered settlement rights near Cape Gracias a Dios.

In fact, Robert envisioned transforming Cape Gracias a Dios and its surroundings into an important trading town, perhaps even a capital. This headland between the Yucatán Peninsula and South American mainland functioned as a crossroads and modest settlement for foreign merchants and Miskitu alike, at the time only marginally frequented by foreign, particularly English, vessels. With roughly 100 inhabitants, the cape was one of several locations where the king periodically resided, alongside Bluefields and Pearl Key Lagoon.⁷² Yet his vision for Cape Gracias a Dios was grandiose: a prosperous city worthy of his kingdom. Welcoming the handful of French settlers disembarking from Fleury’s ship, Robert guided them on a tour of the cape’s surroundings, leading them up the Segovia (Wangki) River and showcasing the quality of sugar canes, cotton, and the ‘very beautiful’ cedar and mahogany that could be transported down to fuel commerce of the future royal city.⁷³

The French company was to translate this vision into concrete reality. Plans it drafted showed a settlement with canals and avenues bearing names like Eden, Asylum, Tyr, and Sidon. A ‘Manto Road’ would link this capital to its hinterland. Echoing French imperial urban designs, urbanized neighbourhoods with names such as Refugium would border canals, providing economic, spiritual, and residential facilities for enhancing the king’s seat (see Figure 2).⁷⁴

Figure 2. Map of the neighbourhood of Refugium. Source: ‘Neustrie. Plan de Refugium’ (Knecht et Roissy, n.d.), Département Cartes et plans, GE C-3140, BNF.

Naturally, this endeavour had a price tag. Yet it was to be shouldered by the colonial company Robert had hired for the execution of these projects. Thus, the Compagnie de la Neustrie set its sights on raising the funds for the work to be undertaken at Cape Gracias a Dios. In Paris, its director began orchestrating a Fr3 million loan—it remains unclear whether it would be issued in the Miskitu leader’s name—with plans for the bonds to be traded on the London Foreign Stock Market.⁷⁵ These funds were intended to kickstart the cultivation of plantations with the assistance of 6,000 labourers.⁷⁶

Unfortunately for Robert, the French never returned. Two years after Fleury went back to France, the Compagnie de la Neustrie disappeared with the death of its director. Plans for loans and improvement of Cape Gracias a Dios vanished with him. However, other merchant interests continued arriving in Moskitia, engaging with Robert to access the kingdom’s resources. The king had evidently learned from past interactions. Above all, he resolved to advertise himself as able to take charge of Moskitia’s political and commercial improvement himself, drawing on experience that had shown that foreigners were willing to lend funds in Moskitia.

On 10 August 1830, a bond was signed at Cape Gracias a Dios. This document stipulated that the ‘King of the Mosquito Nation’ acknowledged a debt of $50,000 owed to Thomas Fisher & Co., a Jamaican planter and slaver.⁷⁷ The bond outlined how he was to repay the money owed to the merchant. In practice, the debt was to be repaid in annual instalments of 100,000 feet of mahogany, each on or before July first. The wood was to be shipped from Cape Gracias a Dios or Bluefields in one of Fisher’s ships. If any instalment could not be delivered by Robert, Fisher could immediately claim the entire debt. As guarantee, Robert pledged his ‘royal word’ that he intended to comply fully with the bond’s terms and that his status as sovereign and king would provide no excuse or impediment to Fisher’s pursuit of payment should the debt not be fulfilled. The bond between Robert and Fisher was countersigned by witnesses attesting to the value of the king’s word.

A few days later, the Miskitu king arrived in Belize to have his bond authenticated by a notary. Beyond authenticating his signature, the Miskitu king wanted it to be established, certainly publicly, that he intended to ‘upon his royal word … comply in every respect with the conditions of the said obligation without any mental evasion or secret reservation whatsoever’.⁷⁸ More probably, Robert wished to demonstrate to Belizean merchants that not only did others have interest in Moskitia resources but that he had engaged in business transactions with foreign competitors.

Engaging with various foreign merchants also coincided with Robert’s campaign to modernize his kingdom, further solidifying his political position in the eyes of his subjects and, more importantly, international merchants who frequented the region to the detriment of Miskitu elites. These efforts built upon previous attempts to reduce the authority of sukias—traditional healers and shamans who wielded political power through managing Miskitu spiritual practices—by encouraging Indigenous peoples to seek ‘English’ medicine during illness instead of local remedies.⁷⁹ On 26 October 1832, Robert then decreed that rape and violent acts committed against ‘our wives and daughters’ would be punishable by death. On the same day, the Miskitu king proclaimed that he ‘forbade any more Indians to be made slaves, under pain of death’. This did not apply to Indigenous slaves who were already in that condition prior to his declaration.⁸⁰

This early abolition of violence against women served multiple purposes within and beyond Moskitia. Locally, it likely strengthened Robert’s sovereign authority, particularly among women. It may have also aimed at restructuring political and social systems built on polygamous alliances, potentially undermining regional elites while consolidating his power.⁸¹ Similar strategic considerations applied to his abolition of Indigenous slavery, which had traditionally underpinned local Miskitu elites’ control over other polities—a rooted practice that both locals and foreigners had previously tried unsuccessfully to eliminate.⁸² Internationally, prohibiting Indigenous slavery and violence against women enhanced Robert’s moral and financial credibility among foreign merchants seeking colonial contracts. Though European states generally lacked legal protections against domestic abuse, such principles were valued within specific religious communities represented among Moskitia’s merchants, notably Lelacheur, a Quaker.⁸³ These prohibitions also aligned with Atlantic movements advocating for abolition of slavery and the slave trade.⁸⁴

However, by abolishing Indigenous slavery, Robert forfeited a labour force that had been essential to Moskitia’s extractive, agricultural, and livestock economy.⁸⁵ This created a need for stable funding to pay a new free workforce and, crucially, to service his debts—maintaining his word’s credibility. In October 1832, he addressed this by imposing an annual tax on all male subjects, with amounts varying by status. Every free male over fourteen years, whether foreign, Creole, or Indigenous, paid $1. Owners paid 4 reales for each male slave of the same age. Employers of Miskitu vassals, such as the Woolwa and Terribee peoples, faced identical taxation. These payments went to chiefs appointed by Robert, who then forwarded collected funds to the king.⁸⁶

In addition to facilitating debt repayment, levying taxes likely provided Robert an opportunity to assert regalian rights to impose fiscal obligations within his political opponents’ territories. He could now consolidate his political standing and grant favours to local Indigenous aristocracies who pledged allegiance by appointing them to collect these taxes on his behalf. This also allowed him to ennoble loyal subjects, in turn contravening the line of governors, admirals, and generals traditionally established in Moskitia. Indeed, it was not uncommon for foreign travellers and merchants to encounter leaders with grandiose titles along Moskitia, such as one General Mettison, regarded by his subjects as counsellor and judge.⁸⁷

These favours extended to foreign merchants and local Creoles, though with varying effectiveness across regions. In 1832, concurrent with his tax reforms, Robert appointed Creole merchant William Hodgson as tax collector for southern Moskitia provinces, including Boca del Toro and Monkey Point.⁸⁸ The king named him captain and magistrate over the local Terribee and Valiente, declaring they ‘have all the rights’ of his other subjects, including protection from uncompensated confiscations.⁸⁹ This appointment included a land grant. Hodgson, alongside the North American Shepherd merchant family, sought to develop southern Moskitia as a trade hub linking Moskitia, Jamaica, and North America. For Robert, Hodgson’s appointment represented an attempt to extend influence into southern regions where his authority was notably weak, as these areas were dominated by Tawira Miskitu elites who typically endorsed forced labour and confiscatory practices against vassals.⁹⁰ Despite limited support in these territories, Robert hoped Hodgson’s appointment would expand his taxpayer base, ensuring debt repayment while asserting authority against Colombia’s territorial claims near Veraguas province—the same area where Powles planned mining operations.

The king’s word is his bond, 1832–42

Following his legal and fiscal reforms, Robert intensified his colonial contracting with foreign merchants, a process that grew more sophisticated throughout the 1830s. In 1836, he executed three agreements—referenced in this article’s introduction—with merchants from British Honduras. These contracts permitted Cox, Swasey & Co.; Bryan Meighan; and William Neal to harvest mahogany and other timber from extensive land parcels over ten years, in exchange for annual payments of $100–$200. Some grantees received permission to build roads facilitating trade with neighbouring states, provided they paid a 20 per cent tax on net value of goods moving in and out of Moskitia to the king. This tax could be reduced to 1 per cent if merchants undertook road construction and financing. In all agreements, Robert pledged to ‘warrant and defend the grant against the claim of any person, whether my heirs or my successors in office’.⁹¹

Robert had established a habit of emphasizing his political authority, which foreigners characterized as absolute across Moskitia—though in reality it required approval from other Miskitu elites, particularly Governor Clement of Tawira descent.⁹² In the eyes of foreign merchants who occasionally complained about trading insecurities in Moskitia (as plundered commodities could not always be recovered from neighbouring Tawira Miskitu rulers), Robert took care to demonstrate his capacity as sovereign to enforce his authority and, crucially, to guarantee the security of agreements made with foreigners and their personal safety.⁹³ This was particularly evident through his judicial institutions. Following the assassination of foreign merchants in the late 1830s, Robert personally presided over a trial that condemned the alleged perpetrators to death, subsequently issuing a proclamation ‘that any of his people who did wrong, should be hung’.⁹⁴

Moskitia thus progressively became an attractive destination for foreign merchants establishing contracts with the Miskitu king. Nearly all of southern Moskitia was divided among these foreigners, with parcels arranged to avoid overlapping, despite contracts being signed years apart.⁹⁵ When disputes arose, the king established mediation processes. In May 1841, a grant originally given to Lelacheur resurfaced through George Bell, director of the Segovia Company—a British enterprise established to exploit Moskitia’s resources. When Bell presented the deed for confirmation, it became evident that the document had been altered to encompass more territory than initially granted. Attempting to secure his fraudulent claims, Bell offered the king cheap jewellery as a bribe. The king, insulted by deception and implication that he could be bought with worthless trinkets, delivered a pointed rebuke. Though he was ‘an Indian’, he declared, ‘he was not a fool’. This precipitated negotiations between the king, Bell, and merchants whose commercial interests stood imperilled by Bell’s attempted territorial overreach. Yet while established merchants participated in mediation, Robert did not favour them, preventing them from monopolizing Moskitia’s resources. Though existing claims were considered, the king deliberately remained open to newcomers, even those with questionable documentation like Bell. Mediation resulted in cancelling Lelacheur’s original deed, but Robert nevertheless granted Bell a new, more clearly defined land grant.⁹⁶

In other words, Robert was careful, over the years, to ensure that the land grants were guaranteed for each of the grantees. Given the extent of the signing of colonial contracts and the number of merchants wishing to do business with Robert, one can imagine that the Miskitu king’s word had acquired genuine credibility. The counterparts that Robert could hope for in return for signing colonial contracts were financial: the more contracts that were signed, the larger his income became. This arrangement was effective as long as the Miskitu king could extend, as he sought to do, his political and, more importantly, fiscal influence within his territory and contested borderlands.

Reinforcing his political position internally among Moskitia’s merchants, Robert also pursued diplomatic recognition abroad. In late 1837, Thomas Hedgcock, a British merchant who had secured a land grant while working for the British Central American Land Company, approached British Foreign Secretary Henry John Temple, Third Viscount Palmerston, as Robert’s diplomatic agent.⁹⁷ Speaking in the name of Robert, Hedgcock requested diplomatic recognition for Moskitia and equivalent duties on Miskitu products to those applied to merchants trading in similar goods from other ports on the ‘Coast of America’, highlighting potential British benefits from mahogany, sarsaparilla, and other Miskitu resources. Though Palmerston agreed to meet Hedgcock in October 1837, no immediate action followed.⁹⁸ After King William IV’s death, Hedgcock renewed his efforts in April 1838, expressing condolences while pressing for recognition of Moskitia’s independence. He emphasized Robert’s progressive laws and plans for a British-style bicameral constitution. Opportunistically, Hedgcock requested permission to fly the Miskitu flag at Queen Victoria’s forthcoming coronation, offering to bear it himself as the king’s agent.⁹⁹ Palmerston denied these requests—not on diplomatic grounds, but because Hedgcock’s British citizenship prevented him from serving as ‘the accredited diplomatick agent of another Sovereign’.¹⁰⁰ The denial was technical rather than substantive, leaving Moskitia’s diplomatic status unresolved rather than rejected.

At that time, the issue for Britain of determining if American sovereignties were to be recognized was not limited to the Miskitu case. Starting from the second half of the 1830s, the fragile political stability of the neighbouring Federal Republic of Central America had been shattered. Multiple confrontations ensued between the forces of President Francisco Morazán and separatist movements that declared independence for their provinces (e.g., Guatemala, Nicaragua, Honduras, Costa Rica, and El Salvador).¹⁰¹ Essentially, the British government imitated a strategy it had favoured in the 1820s, following the political disintegration of Spanish America. During that time, Britain had waited for the political and military situation to settle before agreeing to engage in bilateral diplomatic agreements with the new states, thereby recognizing their sovereignty.¹⁰² This time was no different; the British government refused to take a diplomatic position.

These developments threatened stability throughout the region, including Robert’s ability to guarantee the integrity of past and future colonial contracts. In fact, Moskitia faced multiple threats beyond potential military spillover: emerging governments were attempting to appropriate Miskitu territories. Honduras prepared to sail from Trujillo to claim sovereignty over Roatán Island.¹⁰³ Costa Rica and Nicaragua planned invasions of mainland Moskitia to exploit valuable cedar and mahogany.¹⁰⁴ Nicaragua had already established a fort and customs house at San Juan, at the mouth of its namesake river—territory claimed by the Miskitu.¹⁰⁵ Juan Galindo, an Irish-Guatemalan officer, reportedly received authorization from the Morazán government to establish a colony on Miskitu soil.¹⁰⁶ The mahogany to be harvested was earmarked for servicing Guatemala’s foreign debt to British bondholders, who appeared unconcerned about these territorial encroachments, viewing them as practical means to secure repayment.¹⁰⁷ Some evidence suggests they may even have encouraged expansion.¹⁰⁸ Complicating matters, Colombia contested Miskitu control over several territories, including Boca del Toro and the Corn Islands—islands off Bluefields.¹⁰⁹

In response to the mounting threats and instability, Robert appealed to the British government, warning of ‘dreadful retaliation by devastating and laying waste’ to the region if nothing was done.¹¹⁰ He approached Alexander Macdonald, the recently appointed superintendent of British Honduras, who inquired at the Colonial Office about intervention to protect Miskitu interests. However, the British government, struggling with multiple declarations of independence following the Federal Republic of Central America’s collapse, decided against acting. Palmerston insisted that support for the Miskitu king must remain unchanged.¹¹¹ Though he acknowledged Moskitia’s sovereignty, he maintained that intervention would be justified if the Miskitu were British subjects—which they were not.¹¹²

Foreign merchants trading in Moskitia with territories granted by the Miskitu king grew anxious about their commercial interests. In 1837, Shepherd, who operated under Hodgson’s land grant in southern Moskitia, complained that he could no longer trade with Central American republics from Miskitu territory, forcing him to sail under a Colombian flag.¹¹³ Alarmingly, Nicaraguan forces had seized some of his properties.¹¹⁴ Yet Palmerston remained unmoved regarding military support for British commercial interests in the region. He insisted that protection should come from the Miskitu king himself, maintaining a hands-off approach that emphasized Robert’s sovereignty in managing his territory’s affairs.¹¹⁵

Some observers emphasized the Miskitu’s historical legitimacy over Moskitia and potentially broader Central America. Frederick Chatfield, British consul in San Salvador during the 1830s, opposed the political upheaval and civil unrest sweeping across Central America. Foreign merchants’ properties, he argued, were poorly protected and confiscated through forced loans imposed by republican governments unless merchants allied with what he considered illegitimate regimes.¹¹⁶ He characterized conflicts, particularly Raphael Carrera’s rebellion, as ‘a war of Barbarism against Civilization’ that endangered European interests.¹¹⁷ In contrast, Chatfield viewed Moskitia as a stable political alternative conducive to investment. He maintained that the Miskitu represented a centuries-old regime already respected by Spanish authorities, citing an account from San Salvador where in 1797 a Miskitu prince was received as a legitimate foreign sovereign by Guatemala’s captaincy general.¹¹⁸

History thus seemed to be on the side of the Miskitu, but this was insufficient. Robert recognized the urgency of Central American territorial disputes and their impact on his ability to fulfil contracts with foreign merchants. In November 1838, he persuaded the superintendent of British Honduras, Macdonald, to support him in defending his territory, as the stability of (mostly British) trade was at stake. Equipped with the annual tribute he intended to offer the Miskitu king, Macdonald boarded the HMS Nimrod, a passing British vessel of war that he requisitioned. Sailing off Cape Gracias a Dios, Macdonald hoped to make ‘a little demonstration before our allies in that quarter’. The ship anchored for ten days off the cape, demonstrating tangible support for the Miskitu kingdom during its time of need.¹¹⁹

Yet this display of support from Macdonald was not enough to reassure the merchants with whom Robert had signed contracts. Some opted to relinquish the exploitation rights they had obtained through their contracts with Robert.¹²⁰ Others preferred to transfer their rights to exploit concessions to merchants established in the area.¹²¹ Even worse, some demanded reimbursement of the debts owed to them by the Miskitu king, a condition to which he painstakingly agreed¹²²—certainly to demonstrate his ability to pay even in dire times.

Macdonald likely received a reprimand for using the Nimrod to demonstrate British military support for the Miskitu king when the government was not ready to take a diplomatic position in the region. Though no written record of this reprimand has been found, Macdonald’s subsequent actions showed diminished enthusiasm. When Chatfield requested assistance protecting English merchants in El Salvador, Macdonald could only offer a ship for Chatfield’s evacuation if necessary.¹²³ Nevertheless, Macdonald’s supportive initiatives pleased Robert, despite London’s disapproval. In February 1840, the Miskitu king visited Belize, seeking Macdonald’s assistance against Colombia’s claims on the Corn Islands. The Colombian governor of San Andreas based his expansionist claims on some local inhabitants’ reluctance to pay taxes to the Miskitu ruler¹²⁴—possibly demonstrating the intensification of Miskitu fiscal policy in its territories. Though unauthorized to act without London’s consent, Macdonald wrote to Colombia expressing his disagreement, asserting that Corn Islands belonged to Moskitia.¹²⁵

Robert initially appeared satisfied with Macdonald’s statement. However, the Miskitu king—whose deteriorating health frequently left him bedridden for days¹²⁶—likely feared either succumbing to illness or falling victim to assassination by opponents seeking to seize his territory and authority. These concerns were heightened not just by his brother’s assassination but by an attempt on his own life earlier.¹²⁷ Robert thus sought to establish a legacy that would protect his interests posthumously. His designated successor, Prince Clarence—born to his main wife Juliana and chosen over his older brother George (apparently favoured by some of the king’s political opponents)—was under ten years old and too young to govern effectively.¹²⁸ On 25 February 1840, Robert drafted a will establishing a regency commission to govern until his successor came of age. This commission, comprised of foreign merchants appointed by the king and chaired by Macdonald, would serve as his counsel during his lifetime.¹²⁹

The Colonial Office commended Macdonald for his handling of the Corn Islands situation without a repeat of the Nimrod episode. However, it strongly disapproved of his role in chairing Robert’s regency. In fact, the Colonial Office condemned it, arguing that it was not Macdonald’s place to become directly involved in Miskitu affairs, especially in his capacity as a representative of the Colonial Office.¹³⁰ London’s concern was that a British officer presiding over Moskitia’s affairs could imply British support to the Miskitu kingdom. With Central American polities undergoing redefinition, both the Foreign and Colonial Offices prioritized diplomatic caution in the region. Macdonald was thus instructed to disband this Miskitu commission.¹³¹

Macdonald was furious at the reproach from his superiors. Similarly to Chatfield, Macdonald viewed the Miskitu as more politically legitimate and reliable than their neighbours, whose borders had been shifting and under constant contestation for years.¹³² Macdonald claimed his commitment to Robert was advantageous for British trade. Ensuring the Miskitu king’s stable power guaranteed smooth operations for foreign, especially British, enterprises on Moskitia.¹³³ However, neighbouring republicans’ expansionist ambitions threatened the Miskitu king’s power, territorial integrity, and, consequently, ability to honour his contracts and debts. Protecting the Miskitu was thus a ‘hard battle … but it is uphill work’, safeguarding British trade interests.¹³⁴

Perhaps out of frustration with his superiors, Macdonald committed to the Miskitu cause. By positioning himself as a close ally of Robert, Macdonald likely sought to establish a buffer against other foreign powers, particularly non-British interests, in the region. This alliance served the Miskitu king’s determination to maintain his credit during this crisis. As noted earlier, merchants with contracts in the Miskitu kingdom complained about trading difficulties in southern Moskitia. To defend his territorial claims, especially in southern regions where his legitimacy remained contested, Robert had appointed some as guardians of his interests, including Matthew Willock, who arrived in 1841 as administrator of the Segovia Company. The king designated Willock as ‘Protector General of our Indian subjects’.¹³⁵ Simultaneously, Robert again formally requested British intervention against neighbouring states, appealing directly to the Colonial Office.¹³⁶ To strengthen his case with Britain, which had abolished slavery years earlier, he decreed the complete abolition of slavery throughout Moskitia effective on 1 January 1841, with a compensation plan for slave owners (£25 per freed individual, payable semi-annually without interest, except for 5 per cent interest after three years).¹³⁷ However, his requests for assistance were rejected. Rather than direct intervention, Britain offered only to mediate conflicts.¹³⁸

On 11 August 1841, the British sloop of war The Tweed departed from Bluefields in southern Moskitia.¹³⁹ Aboard were Robert and Macdonald, who had commandeered the ship for this mission. Flying the Miskitu flag, they sailed with guardsmen to San Juan, a village at Moskitia’s southern extreme, which Nicaragua claimed and where it had established a fort and customs house. This expedition had been planned for months. By June 1841, Macdonald was already advising Robert that attacking San Juan would demonstrate strength to both sovereign competitors and financial backers, with arrangements made for slave-owner compensation payments to be distributed at San Juan.¹⁴⁰ Incorporating San Juan and its customs house into Moskitia would increase Robert’s revenues by thousands of silver dollars, ensuring his ability to fulfil obligations to freed slaves’ former owners and international creditors.¹⁴¹

Upon arrival, the party disembarked to meet with the governor of San Juan, Colonel Quijano. Robert requested that not only San Juan but the whole of the southern part of Moskitia (i.e., Boca del Toro and Salt Creek), as well as the Corn Islands, be considered part of his domains. When Quijano refused to acknowledge Miskitu sovereignty, Robert and Macdonald ordered an attack on the village—thus taking a page from the raid conducted by his grandfather on the same location.¹⁴² They raised the Miskitu flag in San Juan and took Quijano prisoner aboard The Tweed.¹⁴³

Robert and Macdonald acknowledged their actions violated the ‘law of nations’ yet relished the Nicaraguans’ predicament.¹⁴⁴ The king’s ambition extended to rejecting both Nicaraguan and Colombian claims over southern Moskitia territories he deemed rightfully his. Many of these lands had been leased or pledged as collateral to foreign and Creole merchants. With Quijano as hostage, they conducted a multi-day tour aboard The Tweed, continuing to fly the Miskitu flag. They visited contested southern Moskitia and the Corn Islands, making stops where locals pledged loyalty to Robert and received firearms as rewards. This display of allegiance was staged for Quijano to witness, sending a message to Nicaragua through its representative and to the foreign merchants and consuls who documented the event—a performance demonstrating Robert’s creditworthiness. The expedition concluded in September 1841 at Cape Gracias a Dios, where Robert and Quijano disembarked before Macdonald took The Tweed to Belize.¹⁴⁵

Conclusion

Robert’s resort to military means to ensure respect for his contractual engagements with foreigners apparently reassured merchants about the political and, more importantly, financial capabilities of his Moskitia. This confidence grew to such an extent that testimonies attested to consecutive issuance of Miskitu ‘scrip and paper titles’ which were exchanged in Jamaica, some even finding their way into the heart of the City of London.¹⁴⁶ However, Robert did not live to see the full consequences of the attack on San Juan. He died in 1842, only months after the invasion, leaving behind an heir too young to rule. His last agent, Macdonald, faced reprimand from his superiors in London for borrowing The Tweed without their express consent. Particularly unacceptable was using a British ship to militarily support territorial claims, or expansionist ambitions of a foreign ruler, especially one not formally diplomatically recognized. Nevertheless, with Robert’s death, the political and economic system he had painstakingly established collapsed. A commission set up by Robert during his last days, chaired by Macdonald and composed of mostly British merchants, effectively served as regency in Moskitia.¹⁴⁷

However, this commission probably could not rely on the political and military legitimacy that the Miskitu king hoped to enjoy among the polities inhabiting Moskitia, upon which the securing of local revenues to honour international financial commitments depended. Nor could it (or chose not to) deal with matters not directly related to British interests—an inter-imperial competition from which Robert benefited to consolidate his financial standing in Moskitia. With the collapse of Robert’s carefully constructed political economy—built on international financing, centralized taxation, and strategic territorial claims backed by military force—came the impossibility of sustaining independent Miskitu rule over the territory. This was particularly true at a time when sovereign claims over Moskitia were escalating. In fact, it seems that the expansionist ambitions of neighbouring American states were exacerbated as a consequence of the final military actions undertaken by Robert in San Juan. Yet without a Miskitu king, the commission headed by Macdonald became more concerned about protecting the commercial interests of British nationals only. London eventually agreed to place Moskitia under its protection in 1844.¹⁴⁸

During the scramble for Central America of the first half of the nineteenth century, Moskitia became a convergence point for Miskitu and global economic histories. By integrating little examined archives with colonial and financial historiographical perspectives, this examination of Robert’s life reveals the foundational economic dimensions of colonial contracting. Rather than being peripheral to Latin American political transformation, Robert emerges as central to the financial commitments that defined early American state-making and international finance. By expanding his contracting activities, he positioned merchants from different imperial powers against one another, ensuring competition for his favour while preventing excessive influence by any single entity. Though lacking full territorial control, Robert presented himself as an absolute monarch to foreign interests, ensuring direct negotiation with him even where his authority remained contested.

Focusing on Miskitu colonial contracts, this article also reinterprets how these acted as sophisticated financial instruments that enabled this Indigenous leader to navigate, perhaps even reshape Atlantic capitalism from the periphery through strategic manipulation of imperial competition rather than passive adaptation to European practices. Yet through increased financing via contracting, Robert facilitated financial capitalism’s importation into Moskitia, particularly practices related to credit management and debt servicing. This process, while enhancing his political power, bound Moskitia’s governance to Atlantic financial institutions—a binding that could only be sustained as long as the Miskitu king could effectively enforce contract conditions and demonstrate his capacity to do so. In response to territorial threats, he thus eventually prioritized debt repayment even during crises and employed early forms of gunboat diplomacy to protect his territorial claims and, by extension, his financial arrangements.

Revisiting the life of Robert expands understandings of Indigenous financial agency in global contexts. Robert’s contractual arrangements formed part of broader efforts to secure foreign capital for internal political reconfiguration, illustrating how transformations in local political and economic structures rested upon both regional and distant considerations. While the king largely remained within his territory, he developed an extensive network of contractual arrangements connecting Moskitia to broader Caribbean and Atlantic systems. Through these relationships, Robert actively facilitated financial capitalism’s entry into his territory while using it to resist imperial control, thus suggesting how peripheral actors could become pivotal figures in the global spread of economic institutions. In this case, Atlantic financial networks expanded beyond Europe through complex negotiations in which an Indigenous leader served as both gatekeeper and innovator of capitalist practices—his own political and financial needs, in a way, selectively pulling these institutions into Moskitia. These findings have broader implications for understanding how financial capitalism took root in regions where European political control remained limited or contested, offering insights into the relationship between Indigenous agency and global expansion of financial institutions during the nineteenth century. Through these economic and diplomatic manoeuvres, the Miskitu king exemplified how legal and financial arrangements were implemented and adapted within complex colonial relationships, for better and for worse.