The Covenant Part 7

'You're not black. You're not yellow. Where?'

'Setting sun.'

The interrogation was so unsatisfactory that Van Doorn summoned a sailor from the Acorn Acorn and asked, 'Where's this fellow from?' and the man replied, 'Picked him up at the Cape of Good Hope.' and asked, 'Where's this fellow from?' and the man replied, 'Picked him up at the Cape of Good Hope.'

'Hmmmm!' Van Doorn stepped back, looked down his long nose at the little fellow, and said, 'The Cape, is it a fine place?' Jack, understanding nothing of this, laughed and was about to retreat when he spotted a white person about his own size, a boy of thirteen whom Van Doorn treated affectionately.

'Your boy?' Jack asked.

'My brother,' Van Doorn replied, and for the last two months that Captain Saltwood idled off Java, Jack and this white lad played together. They were of equal size and equal mental development, each striving to understand the complex world of Batavia. They formed an attractive pair, a thin little brown man with bandy legs, a stout Dutch lad with blond hair and wide shoulders, and they could be seen together in each of the quarters allocated to the different nationalities: Malay, Indian, Arab, Balinese, and the small area in which the industrious Chinese purchased almost anything offered for sale, but only at the prices they set.

One day young Van Doorn explained that Dutch children had two names; his other one was Willem. 'What's yours?' he asked.

'Horda,' his playmate said with a blizzard of click sounds. 'And his name?' he asked, pointing to the older Van Doorn.

'Karel.' And while Jack was repeating the two names, Willem produced his surprise. Having noticed that Jack owned only the clothes he wore, he had procured from the Compagnie warehouse an additional pair of trousers and a shirt, but when Jack put them on he looked ridiculous, for they had been cut to fit stout Dutchmen, not dwarfish brown persons.

'I can sew,' Jack said rea.s.suringly, but after the clothes were altered he reflected that aboard the Acorn Acorn whenever one man gave another something, the recipient was supposed to give something in return, and he very much wanted to give Willem van Doorn a gift, but he could not imagine what. Then he remembered the ivory bracelet hidden in his pouch, but when he handed it to Willem it was too small to fit his stout wrist. It was dour Karel who solved the problem. Taking a silver chain from the Compagnie stock, he fastened the ivory circle to it, then hung the chain about Willem's neck, where the combination of silver, ivory and the lad's fair complexion made a fine show. whenever one man gave another something, the recipient was supposed to give something in return, and he very much wanted to give Willem van Doorn a gift, but he could not imagine what. Then he remembered the ivory bracelet hidden in his pouch, but when he handed it to Willem it was too small to fit his stout wrist. It was dour Karel who solved the problem. Taking a silver chain from the Compagnie stock, he fastened the ivory circle to it, then hung the chain about Willem's neck, where the combination of silver, ivory and the lad's fair complexion made a fine show.

That night Captain Saltwood, richer than he had ever dreamed because of the trade he made on the rhino homs, informed his crew that since no other ships were preparing to depart for home, the Acorn Acorn had no alternative but to make a run up the Straits of Malacca to join with some English fleet forming in India. 'It will be a grave adventure,' he warned his men, and they spent that night preparing their muskets and pikes. had no alternative but to make a run up the Straits of Malacca to join with some English fleet forming in India. 'It will be a grave adventure,' he warned his men, and they spent that night preparing their muskets and pikes.

At dawn Jack wanted to slip ash.o.r.e to say farewell to his Dutch friend, but Captain Saltwood would not permit this, for he wished no interference from Dutch authorities and intended sailing without their knowledge or approval. So Jack stood at the railing of the Acorn, Acorn, looking vainly for his companion. Willem knew nothing of the departure, but toward eleven a Dutch sailor ran into the Compagnie warehouse, shouting, 'The English ship is sailing!' and Willem, fingering his ivory gift, stood by the water's edge watching the ship and its little brown fellow disappear. looking vainly for his companion. Willem knew nothing of the departure, but toward eleven a Dutch sailor ran into the Compagnie warehouse, shouting, 'The English ship is sailing!' and Willem, fingering his ivory gift, stood by the water's edge watching the ship and its little brown fellow disappear.

It required two weeks for the Acorn Acorn to transit Java waters, sail along the coast of Sumatra and past the myriad islands that made this sea a wonderland of beauty as well as fortune, but in time the sailors could see that land was beginning to encroach on each side of the ship, and they knew they were headed directly into the critical part of their voyage. To port lay Sumatra, a nest of pirates. To starboard stood the ma.s.sive fortress of Malacca, impervious to sieges, with nearly seventy major guns on its battlements. And fore and aft would be the pestilential little boats filled with daring men trying to board and steal the prize. to transit Java waters, sail along the coast of Sumatra and past the myriad islands that made this sea a wonderland of beauty as well as fortune, but in time the sailors could see that land was beginning to encroach on each side of the ship, and they knew they were headed directly into the critical part of their voyage. To port lay Sumatra, a nest of pirates. To starboard stood the ma.s.sive fortress of Malacca, impervious to sieges, with nearly seventy major guns on its battlements. And fore and aft would be the pestilential little boats filled with daring men trying to board and steal the prize.

The fight, if it came, would be even, for the Acorn Acorn was manned by men of Plymouth, grandsons of those doughty fellows who with Drake had routed the ships of King Philip's Armada. They did not intend to be boarded or sunk. was manned by men of Plymouth, grandsons of those doughty fellows who with Drake had routed the ships of King Philip's Armada. They did not intend to be boarded or sunk.

It was Captain Saltwood's strategy to remain hidden behind one of the many islands to satisfy himself that there was adequate wind, and then to run the gauntlet at night when the Portuguese might be inattentive, and this plan would have succeeded except that some Malay sailor, lounging on the northern sh.o.r.e, saw the attempted pa.s.sage and sounded an alarm.

It was midnight when the battle began, great guns flashing from the fort, small boats darting out in an attempt to set fire to the English ship, larger boats trying to ram and board. Jack understood what was happening and knew from conversation with the sailors what tortures he and the others might expect if their ship was taken, but he was not prepared for the violent heroism of his English mates. They fought like demons, firing their pistols, thrusting and stabbing with their pikes.

Dawn found them safely past the looming fortress, with only a few small craft still trying to impede them; like a bristling beetle ignoring ants, the Acorn Acorn swayed ahead, its sailors shooting and jabbing at their attackers, and before long, pulled away. The dangerous pa.s.sage was completed. swayed ahead, its sailors shooting and jabbing at their attackers, and before long, pulled away. The dangerous pa.s.sage was completed.

In India, Captain Saltwood faced a major disappointment: no English fleet would sail this year. So once more he went on alone, a daring man carrying with him enough wealth to found a family and perhaps even acquire a residence in some cathedral town. Getting home became an obsession, and he sailed the Acorn Acorn accordingly. accordingly.

At Ceylon, pirates tried to board; off Goa, Portuguese adventurers had to be repulsed. South of Hormuz the Plymouth men ran into real danger, and at Mozambique two crazed carracks lumbered out to give chase on the remote chance that they might take a prize, but when the Acorn Acorn sailed serenely on, they abandoned the pursuit. Finally Sofala was pa.s.sed to starboard, with Captain Saltwood saluting the unseen merchant who had sold him the rhinoceros horn. The southern coast of Africa guided them westward, and the morning came when a sailor shouted, 'I see Table Mountain!' and Captain Saltwood himself handed him the silver coin, saying, 'We're one step nearer home.' sailed serenely on, they abandoned the pursuit. Finally Sofala was pa.s.sed to starboard, with Captain Saltwood saluting the unseen merchant who had sold him the rhinoceros horn. The southern coast of Africa guided them westward, and the morning came when a sailor shouted, 'I see Table Mountain!' and Captain Saltwood himself handed him the silver coin, saying, 'We're one step nearer home.'

When the bay was reached and the longboat prepared, Jack said farewell to his accidental friends, standing on tiptoe to embrace them. Once ash.o.r.e, he walked slowly inland, pausing now and again to look back at the ship whose victories and tribulations he had shared for nearly four years. But the moment came when the next hill must close him off forever from the Acorn, Acorn, and when he pa.s.sed this and began to see familiar rocks and the spoor of animals he had always known, a strange thing occurred. He began divesting himself of the sailor's uniform he had worn these many months. Off came the shirt, the carefully sewn trousers, the leather shoes. He did not throw them away, nor the extra raiment given him by the young Dutch boy at Java, but tied them carefully into a little bundle, which knocked rea.s.suringly against his leg as he walked homeward. and when he pa.s.sed this and began to see familiar rocks and the spoor of animals he had always known, a strange thing occurred. He began divesting himself of the sailor's uniform he had worn these many months. Off came the shirt, the carefully sewn trousers, the leather shoes. He did not throw them away, nor the extra raiment given him by the young Dutch boy at Java, but tied them carefully into a little bundle, which knocked rea.s.suringly against his leg as he walked homeward.

When he reached his village he was sucking a clove stolen at Java, and when his old friends poured out to greet him, he breathed a strange odor upon them, and undid his bundle to display what he carried, and to each he gave a clove in remembrance of the many times during the past four years that he had thought of them.

By 1640 the grim-faced Dutchmen who proposed to rule the East from Java had endured enough: 'Those d.a.m.ned Portuguese at Malacca must be destroyed.' In stinging reports to the Lords XVII, the businessmen who controlled the East Indies Company from their dark offices in Amsterdam, they had complained: 'The Catholic fiends in Malacca have sunk our ships for the last time. We are prepared to besiege their fortress for seven years if necessary.'

The Lords XVII might have rejected this daring proposal had not a gentleman whose grandfather was burned at the stake while trying to protect Dutch Protestantism from the fury of Spain's Duke of Alva argued pa.s.sionately: 'Our fortunes teeter in the balance. Malacca must be destroyed.' His oratory carried, and plans to crush the Portuguese had been approved, not by the Dutch government but by Jan Compagnie. The hard-headed citizens of Holland knew in what kind of hands responsibility should be placed. Merchants with something to protect would know how to protect it.

When authorization reached Java the local Dutchmen responded enthusiastically. Funds were made available. New ships were built. Javanese natives in sarongs were taught to handle tasks afloat. And of equal importance, amba.s.sadors were dispatched to large and petty kingdoms to a.s.sure them that when the Dutch moved against Malacca their interest was not territorial: 'We intend to take no land belonging to others. But we must stop the Portuguese piracy.'

Among the amba.s.sadors chosen for this ticklish task was Karel van Doorn, now twenty-five and with a solid reputation as a loyal Compagnie servant. He was severe, honest, humorless, and gifted with an understanding of finance and the profitable management of Compagnie slaves.

Such promotions as Karel had achieved were due princ.i.p.ally to his mother, the stalwart widow of an official who had been killed while endeavoring to extend Compagnie holdings in the Spice Islands. He had been a man of enormous energy; by arrogance, bluff", courage and expropriation he had protected the Compagnie; by chicanery, theft, falsification and diversion he had at the same time built up his own clandestine trading interests a thing severely forbiddenand in so doing, had acc.u.mulated a considerable wealth which he had been trying vainly to smuggle back to Holland when he died. His widow, Hendrickje, now found herself with a growing fortune which she could spend only in Java.

Fortunately, she flourished in the tropics, and as soon as the Dutch destroyed the Javanese city of Jacatra and began building opposite its ruins their own capital, Batavia, she appropriated one of the choicest locations on the Tijgergracht (Tiger Ca.n.a.l) and there built herself a mansion. Curiously, it could have stood unnoticed on any street in Amsterdam, for it was done in ma.s.sive Dutch style, with heavy stone walls and red-tiled roof protecting it from snows which never came. Thick part.i.tions separated the rooms, which were illuminated by very small windows, and wherever a breeze might have entered, some heavy piece of furniture shut it out.

The only concession indicating that this ma.s.sive house stood in the tropics was a garden of surpa.s.sing beauty, filled with the glorious flowers of Java and punctuated with handsome statuary imported from China. In this garden, to the sound of the tinkling gamelan comprised of eleven musicians, many decisions regarding Dutch fortunes in the East were reached.

Mevrouw van Doorn, a voluptuous blonde who might have been painted by Frans Hals, who did paint her mother, had arrived in 1618 when that notable administrator Jan Pieterszoon Coen was running affairs in his harsh, capable style, and she had quickly endeared herself to him, supporting him eagerly no matter what he did. She heard him warn the populace that acts of immorality among servants must cease, and when one of her maids became pregnant she herself dragged the frightened girl to Coen's headquarters and was present in the square when the girl was beheaded. The young man involved was also sharply reprimanded.

Two obsessions controlled her life: business and religion. It had been she who goaded her husband into setting up his illegal private businesses, one after another. It had been she who supervised those operations, earning a profit of sixty percent a year when the Lords XVII could make only forty. And it had been she who sequestered the stolen funds when they reached Batavia. Indeed, her husband's estate was now so complicated that she dared not risk returning to Holland lest it fall in chaos. As she reported to her younger sister in Haarlem: I often think of coming home to live with you in our house on the ca.n.a.l, but I dread those cold winters. Besides, I am kept prisoner here supervising the sixty-nine slaves who work for me. By Haarlem standards I know this sounds a lot, but it really isn't. When I go about Batavia, attending my affairs, eight slaves accompany me to a.s.sure that coaches, umbrellas and footwear are available. Seven girls tend my clothes, six watch over my retiring room. I need six cooks, nine serving men, eleven members for my orchestra, twelve to tend the grounds and ten for general services. So you see, I am kept quite busy.

Her devotion to religion contained no shred of insincerity, nor should it, considering her family history. Her grandfather, Joost van Valkenborch, had been executed by the Spaniards in 1568 when the great Count Egmont went to his death; both patriots had given their lives in defense of Holland and Calvinism. Her father, too, had died fighting the Spanish Catholics; Willem van Valkenborch had established the first Calvinist a.s.sembly in Haarlem, a clandestine affair whose members knew they would perish if caught. One of her first memories was of secret night worship when her father spoke eloquently of G.o.d and the nature of man. Religion was more real to her than the stars over Java, more encompa.s.sing than the ca.n.a.ls that served Batavia.

Before her husband died they had shared the pleasure of receiving from the Lords XVII a Protestant Bible printed in Dutch, a ma.s.sive affair published in 1630 by Henrick Laurentsz of Amsterdam, and together they had read in their own language the glowing stories that had sustained her father and grandfather in their martyrdoms. Despite all the wealth her husband had left her, she held her chief treasure to be this Bible; it was the light that ruled her life.

Her next treasures were her two sons, who lived with her and whose fortunes she supervised so carefully, nudging the local directors whenever she thought Karel merited an advancement. It was she who had proposed him for the emba.s.sy to governments neighboring on Malacca, and when the trip was in preparation it was she who suggested that young Willem go along so as to witness the vast extent of the Compagnie's trading interests.

'He's only fifteen,' Karel protested.

'Proper time to learn what ships and battles are,' his mother snapped, and on a very hot afternoon when flies buzzed in stifled air, members of the diplomatic mission were briefed by high officials of the Compagnie, who sat like gargoyles in the white-walled council chamber, nodding gravely as an old man who had been fighting the Portuguese for three decades spoke portentously: 'A solemn moment approaches. We're about to crush Malacca.'

Karel leaned forward. 'a.s.sault the fortress?'

The old man, clenching his fists and dreaming of long-gone defeats, ignored him. 'In 1606 we tried to capture that d.a.m.ned place and failed. In 1608 we tried again, and 1623. In 1626 and '27 I myself led the landing parties. We got to the walls but were driven back. During the last four years we've tried to blockade the Straits, starve them out, and always they've laughed at us. Now,' he shouted, banging his frail hand on the table, 'we destroy them.'

'How soon do we sail?'

'Immediately.'

When Karel showed disappointment at missing the siege, where promotions might come quickly, the old man said, 'You'll be back for fighting. We may not attack for at least a year. And remember what your job is. To a.s.sure all our neighbors that when we capture Malacca we shall seek no territory for ourselves.'

Another officer said sententiously, 'All we insist upon is trading rights. We'll take the fort but leave the land.'

And then a very large man with a voice that rumbled from much preaching added, 'Explain to them all that if they do business with us, it's only business. An honest deal for all. We will not try to Christianize them, the way the Portuguese have done with their oppressive Catholicism. Mark my words, Van Doorn, your strongest weapon could be religion. Tell them to watch our deportment when we capture Malacca.'

'If we capture it,' someone corrected.

'No!' a dozen voices cried. 'Dr. Steyn is right. When we capture it.'

The minister coughed and continued: 'When we occupy Malacca, nothing is changed. The sultan continues in power, freed of Portuguese influence. Muhammad continues as their G.o.d, freed of pressure from the Catholics. The Chinese, Arabians, Persians, Ceylonese, Englishand even the Portuguese traders themselvesanyone with a business in Malacca will continue to own it and operate it as he wishes. All we seek is the right to trade, for all men. Tell the rulers that.'

In four days of concentrated argument this point was hammered until Van Doorn understood better than most of the Lords XVII back in Amsterdam what the practical politics of Jan Compagnie were. The Lords, representing all regions and aspects of Dutch life, had to be cautious, aware that whatever they promulgated enjoyed the force of law; indeed, their decisions were stronger than ordinary law because from them there was no appeal. But the governors in the field, who needed two years to send a query and receive an answer, had to be daring. On their own they could declare war, appropriate an island, or conduct negotiations with a foreign power. The governor-general in Java could order the execution of anyone, slave or free, English or Chinese: 'For stealing property belonging to the Compagnie, he shall be dragged to the port of Batavia and keel-hauled three times beneath the largest vessel. If still living, he shall be burned and his ashes scattered.'

The governor-general, accustomed to exercising these powers, glared at Karel and said, 'We expect you to convince the nations that they have no reason to oppose us when we make our attack.'

'I shall,' Van Doorn a.s.sured him.

There was at this time riding at the port of Batavia a trading ship heavily laden with goods for China, Cambodia and the Dutch entrepot on Formosa, and free s.p.a.ce for the stowing of such spices and metals as might be picked up in the course of a long journey. To this ship Karel, his brother Willem and their sixteen servants reported. Because of the importance of this mission, the captain had vacated his cabin and a.s.signed it to the brothers, and there, surrounded by books and charts, they started the long voyage to the ancient ports of the East, sailing through waters that Marco Polo had known, past islands that would not be touched by white men for another century.

Wherever they stopped, they a.s.sured local leaders that the Dutch had no designs upon their territory, and that Java expected neutrality when the attack came on Malacca. 'Won't these people warn the Portuguese?' Willem asked.

'The Portuguese know. We've been attacking Malacca every ten years. Surely they expect us.'

'Won't they build their defenses?'

'Of course. They're doing it right now.'

'Then why didn't we attack right now?' the boy asked.

'Next year will be just as good. Our job now is to pacify allies.' But later, when the Dutch were dining alone, Karel was inspired to raise his gla.s.s to the sailors and soldiers who would partic.i.p.ate in the siege: 'To that brave man amongst us who could well be the governor of Malacca before this year is out!' And all the Dutchmen drank in silence, imagining the possibilities: in their army a man did not have to be a n.o.bleman to become an admiral or a governor.

By late April 1640, when the Van Doorns returned to Batavia with a.s.surances that no neighbors would interfere with operations in the Straits of Malacca, and when a fleet of war vessels had been a.s.sembled, Governor-General van Diemen decided that the time was proper for the major thrust.

'Karel,' he told the returning amba.s.sador, 'you're to accompany the fleet. Take charge as soon as the fortress is secured.'

'Looting?'

'It will be a long, dangerous fight, Karel. Allow the men three days to capture what they will. Then establish order. After that, no one is to be touched, Muslim or Christian.'

'The sultan?'

'Protect him, by all means. The soldiers will probably loot his palaces and take some of his women. But let him know that he survives with our blessing... and only because of our blessing. He'll prove our strongest ally.'

When the sails of the fleet were raised, they covered the sea like a sheath of white lace, and spies rushed overland to launch small boats in which they would scurry to Malacca to inform the Portuguese that the next siege was under way. It required thirteen days for the straggling fleet to reach the Straits south of the fortress, and when young Willem van Doorn looked up at the mighty battlements, thirty feet high, twenty-six feet thick, he gasped, 'No one could break them down.'

He was right to be apprehensive, for the fortress was much greater now than when the Dutch had first a.s.saulted it. Five large churches stood within the walls, two hospitals, granaries, many deep wells, accommodation for four thousand fighting men. The town outside contained twenty thousand people, the harbor and the river more than a thousand small boats. From five towers sixty-nine major cannon controlled all approaches, and most important, the battlements were commanded by a man who had withstood other sieges and who was determined to outlast this one.

For five long and terrible months he succeeded. Two thousand of his people starved to death, then two thousand more, and finally another three. But he exacted a fearful toll on the Dutch a.s.sailants; more than a thousand highly trained men died in their attempt to approach these mighty walls.

They did achieve a limited success: by heroic measures they wrestled their cannon ash.o.r.e, protected them with abutments, and proceeded methodically to knock large holes in the fortifications. Now all that was required was for foot soldiers to charge through the holes and the fort would be theirs, because deserters a.s.sured them: 'The Portuguese are eating rats and chewing upon the hides of horses.'

But to reach the holes, the Dutch would have to wade up to their armpits through malarial swamps, then swim turbulent streams while Portuguese on the walls shot at them, and this they were hesitant to do. So a kind of waiting war developed, during which yachts were dispatched regularly to Java seeking reinforcements and advice; in December, Willem van Doorn sailed on one of them, bearing messages: Our predikant Johannes Schota.n.u.s was an excellent man while the first fighting was under way, but in this waiting period he is again proving most difficult and has had to be suspended. We are sorry, for he possesses wonderful gifts. His teachings are exemplary, if only he would practice them. He could accomplish so much if he stayed sober, but we must not let him act as predikant after we capture Malacca because he would disgrace the Compagnie by his wild insobriety.

In the sixth month of the siege young Willem returned to the fleet in a large ship, bringing fresh supplies, much gunpowder and instructions that the fortress must now be taken. So on a Sunday night in January 1641 every able-bodied Dutchman moved ash.o.r.e, forded the swamps, and made a predawn attack, driving the Portuguese from the openings in the walls by means of a furious barrage of hand grenades. By ten that morning the keystone of Portugal's empire in the East had fallen.

One of the most enthusiastic victors was Willem, who found that he did not fear gunfire or towering walls. Indeed, he was more resolute than his older brother and much more willing to press forward whether others accompanied him or not. He was among the first into the city, cheering wildly as cannon were drawn inside, lined up, and pointed down the narrow thoroughfares. Ball after ball, huge spheres of solid iron, leaped from the muzzles of the cannon, wreaking fearful destruction. Willem applauded the fires that raged and was in the forefront of those greedy soldiers who rampaged through the treasure-laden buildings that escaped the blaze.

It was a b.l.o.o.d.y triumph, but as soon as the looting was brought under control, the Dutch behaved with their customary magnanimity: the Portuguese commander was saluted for his bravery and given a ship in which he could transport his family, his slaves and his possessions to whatever haven he chose; the gallant captains who had defended the towers were permitted to accompany him with all they owned; and when an unsuspecting Portuguese merchant ship sailed into the channel laden with cloth from India, it was encouraged to dock, on the principle that since the islands under Dutch control produced little surplus cloth, trade with Portuguese India must not only be permitted but encouraged.

And so the vast eastern empire started by Magellan and Albuquerque dissolved. Only the village of Macao would be retained on the threshold of China, a part of tiny Timor in the waters north of Australia, the minute enclave of Goa in India, and the savage hinterland behind Mozambique Islandthese were the remnants. All the rest was gone: Ceylon, Malacca, Java, the important Spice Islands. A man's heart could break at the loss of such glorious lands.

While the fires still smoldered, the victors reported to the Compagnie managers in Batavia: 'n.o.ble, Valiant, Wise, and Honorable Gentlemen, Malacca has fallen and will henceforth be considered private territory and a dominion of the Dutch East India Compagnie.' Now the eastern world was secured and time was ripe for the Dutch to think seriously about establishing a safe resting point between Amsterdam and Batavia where sailors could recover from scurvy. Logic dictated that it be located at the Cape of Good Hope, but its founding had nothing to do with logic. It was sheer accident.

Batavia! This tiny enclave on the northwest coast of Java, this glorious capital of a vast and loosely held empire, had been named after the Batavi, those fierce, sullen men encountered by the early Roman emperors in the marshes that would subsequently become Holland.

It would always be a contradictory place, a walled fortress town perched on the edge of a jungle, totally Netherlandish in disposition, appearance and custom; but at the same time a garden-filled tropical escape from Holland, festooned with lovely flowers and strange fruits in great abundance. It was a heavenly place, a deadly place, and many Dutchmen who came here were dead within ten years, struck down by indolence, gluttony and drunkenness. It was in this period that Compagnie men, returning to Batavia from forced stints in the outlying Spice Islands, conceived the feast that would always be a.s.sociated with Java.

It could be observed at its best in the s.p.a.cious dining room of Hendrickje van Doorn, where fifteen or twenty guests would a.s.semble to the playing of her musicians. Javanese slaves in sarongs would pa.s.s huge platters of delicately steamed white rice, nothing more, and each guest would form a small mountain on his plate. Then the first group of waiters would retire, and after an expectant pause Mevrouw would sound a tinkling Chinese bell, and from the kitchen out in the garden would appear a chain of sixteen serving men, some of the gardeners having been called to a.s.sist. Each carried in his open palms held waist-high two dishes, making a total of thirty-two: chicken bits, lamb cuttings, dried fish, steamed fish, eight rare condiments, ten fruits, nuts, raisins, vegetables and half a dozen tasty items that no one could identify.

As the sixteen servants pa.s.sed along the table, each guest heaped edibles around his rice until the plate resembled a volcano rising high above the sea. But this was not all, for when these servants retired, others appeared with flagons of translucent gin, from which copious draughts were poured. Thus reinforced, the diners started on their meal, calling back the thirty-two little dishes from time to time lest the plate appear empty. This was 'the sixteen-boy rice table of Java,' and it accounted in some measure for the fact that many men and women who had lived rather circ.u.mscribed lives in Calvinistic Holland were reluctant to go home, once they knew Batavia.

Nevertheless, twice each year Dutch merchant ships trading throughout the East convened at Batavia in preparation for the long journey back to Amsterdam; each fleet would be at sea for half a year, rolling and dipping with the long swells of the Indian Ocean, sailing close-hauled into the storms of the Atlantic. On occasion a third of the fleet would be lost, but whenever a ship seemed doomed, it would hoist a panic flag, whereupon others would cl.u.s.ter around, wait for clearing weather, and transfer its cargo into their holds, and in this way the precious spices continued their homeward journey.

The first fleet sailed around Christmas; the second, waiting just long enough to obtain the monsoon cargoes from j.a.pan and China. The holiday sailing was especially popular with the Java Dutch, for just about this time of year they began to be homesick for the wintry ca.n.a.ls, and to see the great fleet waiting at anchor was a sore temptation. In 1646 there was no exception; an immense fleet gathered off Batavia under the command of an admiral, and on the morning of December 22 it hoisted sail.

At the last minute three ships whose smaller size and trimmer rigging would enable them to move more swiftly than the others were detached and ordered to wait for three weeks to serve as the after-fleet to carry important last-minute messages and any Compagnie officials who wished to depart after the Christmas celebrations. Haerlem, Schiedam Haerlem, Schiedam and and Olifant Olifant were the ships, and they tied up so that their sailors could roister ash.o.r.e, and large fights broke out because sailors from the first two ships, which bore honorable names, began to tease those from the were the ships, and they tied up so that their sailors could roister ash.o.r.e, and large fights broke out because sailors from the first two ships, which bore honorable names, began to tease those from the Olifant, Olifant, Dutch for Dutch for elephant. elephant.

Christmas that year was a noisy time, but at the s.p.a.cious home of Mevrouw van Doorn it exhibited a lovely Dutch grace. Her musicians were dressed in batiks from Jokjakarta, her serving men in sarongs from Bali. There was dancing, and long harangues from minor officials serving in the Spice Islands, but as the day wore on, with enormous quant.i.ties of food being consumed and gallons of beer and arrack, the governor-general found occasion to take Mevrouw van Doorn aside to give her advice concerning her sons.

'They both should sail with the after-fleet,' he said quietly as his a.s.sistants snored away their beer and vittles.

'Deprive me of my staunchest support?' she asked, directing the slaves with the fans how best to move the air.

'Your sons are no more staunch in their support of you than I,' the governor said, bowing in his chair. When she acknowledged the compliment, he continued: 'Karel was born in Holland, and this is a permanent advantage. But he has never served there and the Lords XVII are not acquainted with his talents.'

'Karel will prosper wherever he's put,' his mother said sharply. 'He needs no special attention from Amsterdam.'

'True, an admirable son, sure to reach positions of significance.' Dropping his voice, he reached for her hand. 'Positions of eminence, as I did under similar circ.u.mstances.'

'Jan Pieterszoon Coen often told us that you were one of the greatest. And you know that Karel is of your stamp.'

'But remember the counsel of prudent men where authority is concerned: "One must stand close enough to the fire to be warmed, but not so close that he is burned." Karel really must be seen in Compagnie headquarters. There is no alternative, Hendrickje.'

For some moments she reflected on this advice and knew it to be sound. Jan Compagnie was a curious beast, seventeen all-powerful men who did not know the East at firsthand, making decisions that influenced half the world. She would never want her sons to be members of that tight, mean-spirited gang of plotters, but she did want them to achieve positions in Java and Ceylon which only the Lords XVII could disburse. It really was time for Karel to put in an appearance. 'But Willem?' she asked softly, betraying her love for this tousle-headed lad. 'He's too young. Truly, he should stay with me.'

The governor laughed heavily. 'Hendrickje, you astonish me. This lad has been to Formosa, Cambodia. He fought valiantly at Malacca. He's a man, not a boy.' Then he grew serious, asking the servants to withdraw.

'Let us keep the fan-boys. They speak no Dutch.'

'Hendrickje, for Karel to be seen in Amsterdam is policy. For Willem to report there is survival. His entire future life may depend on this.'

'What can you mean?'

'What you know better than I. Few boys born outside Holland can ever hope to attain a position of power within the Compagnie. And especially no boy born in Java.'

Mevrouw van Doorn rose impetuously, ordered the fan-boys to leave the room, and paced back and forth. 'Outrageous!' she cried. 'My husband and I came here in the worst days. We helped burn Jacatra and build this new Batavia. And now you tell me that because our son was born while we were here . . .'

'I do not tell you, Hendrickje. The Compagnie tells you. Any boy born in Java suffers a dreadful stigma.'

He did not continue, for there was no need. No matter how angry Mevrouw van Doorn became over this tactless reminder that her son Willem suffered a disadvantage which might prove fatal in Compagnie politics, she knew he was right, for Dutch settlement in the East produced contradictions which simply could not be resolved. The Dutch were honest Calvinists who took their religion seriously, and the drowsy rooms in Batavia contained many persons whose forefathers had died protecting their religion. They were the sp.a.w.n of heroes, prepared to die again if Calvinism were threatened.

But they were a paradoxical lot. They believed that G.o.d in His mercy separated the saved from the d.a.m.ned, and were convinced that the Dutch were saved, not all of them, but most. They firmly believed in sobriety, yet drank themselves into a stupor five days out of seven. They believed in strict s.e.xual deportment, much stricter than the Portuguese or English; they spoke of it; they read those pa.s.sages in the Bible which condemned lewd living; and their predikants roared at them from the pulpit. They did believe in chast.i.ty.

And there was the difficulty. For they were also a l.u.s.ty lot; few men in Europe had a quicker eye for a flashing skirt than the Dutch of Amsterdam. They rousted and stormed through brothels, chasing girls brought from Brazil and Bali and from G.o.d knows where; but always they did this after protestations of virtue and before prayers of contrition. Few men have ever behaved so l.u.s.tily between episodes of protective devotion.

In Java the problem was trebly difficult, for to it came the most virile young men of Holland to serve five to ten years, but with them came no Dutch women, or few, and these of the worst sort. Hendrickje van Doorn had written to at least a hundred young women in Haarlem and Amsterdam, begging them to come out as wives to these splendid young men who were making their fortunes, but she attracted not one: 'The voyage is too long. I shall never see my mother again. The climate is too hot. It is a land of savages.' A hundred marriageable girls could recite a hundred good reasons for not going to Java, which meant that the young men would have to work there without wives until such time as they could go home with their wealth.

Without wives, but not without women. The girls of Java were some of the most attractive in the worldslim, shy, whispering beauties who created the impression of knowing far more about love than they admitted. The girls of Bali were even more seductive, while the wonderful women of China were strong and able as well as beautiful. It was a Dutchman of stalwart character who could listen to his predikant in church on Sunday and keep away from the glorious women of the compounds during the next six nights.

The Lords XVII and their subordinates were tough-minded businessmen out to make a fast profit, but there arose occasions when they had to turn to other issues, and none was more vexing than this problem of the mixing of races. As the directors agonized over miscegenation, two opposing schools of thought emerged: the enlightened ones who saw considerable merit in encouraging their employees to marry women of the East, thus forming a permanent settlement; and the narrow ones who foresaw the degeneration of their own race. The puritan view prevailed, though in practice it meant little whenever a lonely man needed the warmth of a concubine or slave.