Reconstructed ship "Batavia"
Leeuwaarden
“Why are you doing this Jero?” A man with a stark and ascetic looking face gave a young man a sad look. “ Why are you doing to this to yourself, to the memory of your mother, and to God?”
“ Doing what, father?”
“ Don’t mess with me. As far as I remember I was the one who pulled you through troubles. Our confreres turned a deaf ear on your sinful deeds, saying that everything will be alright, because ‘the grain is like the ear it came out of’. This, however, is over. You’re a grown man now, and not an uncurbed youth anymore! You’ve got a hard working wife and a soul you ought to take care of.”
“ But I really don’t know where this annoyance of yours is coming from? Things are going good between me and Lieke, and I don’t think it is her who was complaining. After all, the pharmacy is prospering…”
“I heard that you’re learning the mastery of wielding a sword from Master Bremen, and that you’ve attacked a young butcher with a knife” The older man abruptly cut off his son’s excuses. “ You pierced the area of his crotch with it, and you almost caused him to lose the ability to have kids. You know that us, Mennonites, do not tolerate violence and bearing arms. It is one of the fundamental principles incumbent in our borough! Out of all people, the minister’s son ought to be familiar with those rules.”
“ Me?” The young man reached for the wheat pie which was lying in the middle of the table, and tore off a piece.
“ I have been besmirched father.” He put a piece of pie into his mouth and started to slowly chew it up. The older man did not take his heavy, inquisitive gaze off him. The son took a sip of the tart, red wine and gave a sigh of resignation. “Who snitched on me father? That swine Bram? And maybe it was the red haired Ilse who is still livid about the fact, that I chose Lieke over her? But does it really matter? And you really believe that you will hide your misdeeds from God? He is the highest of judges.
“ And I do not intend to. And I go to Braman because somebody has to teach me how to defend myself . You father, even though you could, will not do so. When I was a child, I overheard hole-and-corner tales of my birth father who, when fighting in the princely army, would show such bravery, that his enemies trembled at the very sound of his name. I dreamed that someday…” the young man jumped up from the table.
“ I cannot turn the other cheek father, when such scumbag as that hog Bram spit in my face, laughing. I will not let anybody do that! Nobody! You know what he says about my wife? That she wanted, and still does, to feel him inside her, and that she is with me only because he allured another woman, and chased her away! When I went to have a word with him, and to ask him for some moderation in his actions, he laughed me off, because in the world of simple people, it is only power that matters.” At the memory of those events, the veins bulged on the forehead of the younger of the men. “This stinkpot, wielding a blood covered knife in front of our faces concluded that we, Mennonites, are like the cows that he slaughters in this butchery of his. And our slow-witted men are incapable of defending their women, so there’s no other option than to take them and screw them like there’s no tomorrow. Those were his exact words father!” The enraged son thumped the table with his fist. “I lost it, but every normal man in this situation would do the same. I yanked the knife from his hand and…”
“Be quiet !” The father jumped to his feet and stood in front of his son. “ I thought that over time, I’ll teach you some humbleness, and that you will understand that life is a test which Good God puts us to and that we, with our humility and diligent work, ought to show the Lord that even though it was through our partition from Him, we are still worthy of the grace and sacrifice of God’s Son, Jesus Christ. Yes, I made my mistakes when I was young, and I am guilty of more innocent deaths than many rogues are, but thanks to God and your mother, I got my act together, and I’ve been trotting down the Lord’s path, bending my ash sprinkled head low, and trying to redeem guilt inefficiently. That is why we acceded to the Mennonites and that was the best thing that could happen to us. It was a gift which I did not deserve. We found amongst them genuine brothers, sisters and a peace of mind. We had been very happy here before.” He added quietly, as if he was talking to himself.
“ But Father, I swear…”
“ We do not make pledges!” The voice of the minister sounded as stern as a judge’s. “ Just like we don’t run high offices because the son of God did not do so. We follow the footsteps of Jesus Christ described in the Bible, as it is the beginning and the end of the knowledge about the world. Did everything I teach you was merely the dew of the dawning of the sun filled day? The mist in the face of the wind?”
“No! It was weakness disguised in sacred words!” The young man was almost screaming. “ It was a surrender to fate, without a fight. I disdain you all. I disdain your naïve sanctimony, humility, suppleness and this borough of yours, in which you have hidden from the world! It’s cowardice my dear father. And you also are a coward! God creates many opportunities, but they are only for those who have the courage to take them!” The elderly man swayed after hearing each word, as if they had the weight of a bar of iron. “ May the Good Lord show you the proper way. You’ve started to sin since you learned how to talk. You sin with your stubbornness, inflated ambition, your envy and pride. Your deeds killed your mother, an she was almost a saint woman and she didn’t deserve such fate. Her only flight of fancy was marrying a yeoman and a reveler, whom she hoped to reform with the power of her love. She succeeded, but she forgot to ask the Heavenly Father for the same grace for her offspring. Then it was already too late. You have thrown one stone too many Jero. Maybe you resemble me too much, and for that I can only blame myself. Apparently, the just Lord punished me with such a son for the wrong-doings that I had committed in my youth. For a few happy years, I was hoping that He had forgiven me and that…” He waved his hand in resignation “ …but He didn’t and He was right. I will never forgive my own self.” The Minister placed his hand on his son’s cheek and he did it so gently that his son froze in astonishment, rather expecting a hit than caress. The father stroke his son’s face like he used to do back in the day when he was a little boy, and the eyes of the man teared up. “ I do it with enormous regret, but you leave me with choice my dear son, and believe me, if this time I could take lashes on my own back, I would certainly do it, since there are too few scars on it, in comparison to the sins of my youth. However, one rotting apple spoils the whole basket, and that is why I have to do what I have to do. I deliberated with the elders what I ought to do with you, and the decision is final. In accordance with the principals incumbent in our borough, I expel you, Jeronimo Cornelison, form our congregation. You are not welcome in my home anymore, and I am asking you to have left Leuwaarden by tomorrow. I no more have a son.” The minister Michiel Cornelis barely uttered the last sentence. As his hand slid down, it nostalgically stroke the young man’s wavy hair as if it wanted to say farewell, and with its touch to remember its texture, its smoothness and colour, so painfully resemblant of that of his mother’s.
There were a few moments of utter and complete silence, before the young pharmacist, who was taken aback by the turn of events, realized the meaning of the words spoken.
“ And I do not have a father! And Bram, the butcher, was right that our men are like lame ducks! It’s too bad I did not rip him apart, even though I so wanted to. You shall regret it father, you will see!” The man grabbed his hat from the table and dashed out the door.
The older Cornelis, who turned as pale as death itself, whispered: “ I already regret it my son, but you left me with no choice. Forgive me dear wife to have turned out to be a bad teacher. Had you been alive, you would have prevented the worst from happening, as you usually did. God, please forgive me my pride, because who am I to try and change your plans?” He then collapsed onto his knees and, as if it was happening in a slow motion, fell on his side and remained in that position. After his heart stopped, his face tense with pain, brightened up and smoothed down. The soul of the Mennonite set off home.
North Sea
More and more sailors asked themselves: For what sins should I sail to the other end of the world? A shell in which for many months people are sitting almost with noses in their asses, and the only pastime is hard work and times with the bosun’s braid? They were given additional portions of gin and it helped a bit, because the majority of the crew was drunken addicts.
Recruitment was not an easy task, and the "soul traders" who were involved in this profession, dearly counted for every persuaded, more often drunk and intoxicated person transported on board. There were two hundred in Amsterdam alone and they had a lot to do because the deep-sea fleets grew stronger and "devoured any amount of human meat." It was no secret that criminals also whisked off to the decks, because they wanted to avoid being locked up in the more permanent way. Thus, an explosive mixture was created and any prolonged stay in the port could lead to ignition.
It all happened because of a commanding agent, Jacques Specx, a senior merchant, let God bless him with a gag. He thought that he would get married just before leaving, and he did. It is not easy to leave the bay full of beautiful women another visit was in twelve or twenty months, so Specx used different excuses to postpone the moment of taking over the duties.
Listening to the complaints of the other captains, but more to curtail the unnecessary costs of stoppages and prevent natural defenses in such circumstances, the board of directors of the East India Company gave the flotilla command to a senior merchant - Francisco Pelsaert from Antwerp.
On the morning of October 27, 1628, seven ships went out into the sea and headed east toward Java. Eighth, the largest with a load capacity of five hundred and fifty standard loads - "Frederik Hendrik", remained in the port where he had to wait until Specx decides to leave his sweetheart. If it were not for his assets and connections, the newly minted husband would expect, at the most, an overturned piece of wood, not one of the most powerful units of the Company.
At the head of the fleet sailed in its maiden voyage, a cruise ship of the "East Indiaman" class bearing the proud name of "Batavia" in honor of the VOC headquarters in Java. His companions were "Assendelfta", "The Hague” shining with new paint, "Dordrechta" and two deep-sea yachts: "Kleine Dawida" and "Zaandam". The role of military escort played the only warship in this company, bearing the proud name of one of the most significant Dutch families: "Buren" but even merchant ships, heavily armed with quarter and half-hectares, were not an easy nut to crack for casual opponent. On Batavia, due to the exceptionally valuable cargo, they installed two thirty-six-pound guns. All of that to protect twelve chests of gold and silver coins worth two hundred and sixty thousand guilders! It guarded this treasure against the attacks of sea looters, and more dangerous - the attempts of its own crew, seventy mercenary soldiers. Among them, the hero from Grolle - Corporal Wiebbe Hayes.
They sailed closed hauled, so the smooth, untouched by algae hull, almost slid on the water. With such favorable conditions, the ship developed its maximum speed of eight knots and did not sway too much, for which passengers thanked God in thankful prayers. Nobody, however, had doubts that it was only postponing the "execution" and marine disease would gather its cruel harvest. The brand new and snow-white sails were challenging the clouds, supported by swelled marshes and jibs on the bow.
When the southern watch was coming to an end and the seventh glass drove, the captain ordered the meeting of the crew and the VOC passengers sailing to Java. The trumpet's clear voice cut through the air, and he heard the sounds of the bosun's pipes and the patter of bare feet.
After a few minutes, the main deck was filled with hundreds of people. Some of them had been already sailing together, others looked with curiosity on the faces of their companions, with whom they would spend the next few months. There were also many who, having sobered in amazement, noticed that they did not have stable land under their feet, or tavern boards in which they had prostrated themselves. Everyone was looking at the leaders and a group of women standing at the stern castle gallery.
The conversations subsided when a well-dressed stocky man stepped forward. Long curly hair of the wig fluttered in the strong wind. His face was red and weather-beaten. He stood in silence for a few moments, taking in the friendly eye of the crowd at his feet. He grunted meaningfully to silence the noisy ones, and again the bosun's whistles sounded. "Deaf", felt fiery lashes on their backs for the first time.
"On my ship," he began, and finally only the creaking of the hull and the whining of the tense ropes could be heard – “the discipline will be similar to a warship. For those of you who have not understood this yet, I will engrave this knowledge on your back.”
The sails fluttering in wind has become the only sound. The mention of the punishment has done its job.
“We are sailing on a long and dangerous cruise to Java and we cannot afford to be lunatic, lazy or to have even the slightest attempt of rebellion! They are as devastating as fire on the high seas. As is the custom in the VOC fleet, I will cover now some of the most important rules that will apply on board of the "Batavia". I will do it only once! Stick them into your heads and for your own good, do it quickly.” He took a deeper breath.
“I have to start with the penalties. And believe me, there will be no indulgence for those who break my rules. For swearing, negligence of food, weapons, other’s property, disrespect to the superiors - light corporal punishment, partial confiscation of salary or imprisonment without food. I also do not want you to plop my ship, is that clear?” The murmur of voices answered him. “For average offenses, such as drunkenness or disobedience – throwing you overboard, whipping and nailing hands to the main mother will be waiting for you. For heavier offenses, such as: open insubordination to the officer, raising your hand against an officer, blasphemy against God, fighting or theft - my lieutenants will hand over to you a detailed list of reprimands – ranging from amputation of a hand or both, whipping, dragging under the keel, marooning or simply just death. Many of these penalties can occur together. For instance, murderer is attached to the victim's body and thrown with the bound hands overboard. For rebellion-,” he took a break before adding power to the words, “the VOC code provides for only one punishment - preceded by torturous death of strangling and corpse shall be hung on yards. Is everything clear?” Nobody said a word.
“First enquiry, you have my consent. In the future, with all matters, you turn to the bosuns, they turn to lieutenants, and they only talk to me.”
There were a few long moments of silence, because the repertoire of punishments, especially for thicker offenses, usually led to the death of an unlucky one.
"I'd like to know what this ..." one of the ship's boys nervously shifted from one foot to another.
"Captain," said Boolman de Jong quickly.
"Well, I would like to know, Captain, what is this light corporal punishment?" The boy swallowed loudly.
“You have not sailed with me yet…” Adriaen Jakobsz caught sight of the sailor.
“I ... the first time ... mother and father died ...” he fell silent.
“Name?”
“They call me Pieter. Pieter from the Hill, sir… captain.”
“Then listen Pieter and take in what you hear. I do not find any pleasure in the punishments, but during a long voyage, many of you will taste a whip or a debris rope and many will kiss the gratings standing on the bar. This is the sailor’s life. The wounds on your back don’t heal well in salt water, and I want to have an efficient crew and more often than whips, we will use shoes.”
Pieter decided not to ask any further questions.
“But enough about punishments. As this is our first meeting, I am obliged by the regulations of the Company to present to you the route of our expedition, which for security reasons had been a secret until now. In the first, longest stage, we will sail along the western shores of Europe and Africa to the Sierra Leone region. We will cross the South Atlantic there, near Brazil, to turn southeast and sail to the semi-wild Table Bay, off the coast of Africa, where we will refill supplies and allow some of you to go ashore.” There was no enthusiasm among the crew, because experienced sailors knew that this would happen at the earliest in five to seven months.
“Then we will sail to Java and Batavia to make a long stop before going back. There you will have the opportunity to spend your earned money and I’m sure that most of you will come back with empty pockets.” This statement was accompanied by a few croaks. Sailors used to drink heavy on such occasion, spending hard-earned silver for whores and alcohol. But what is interesting is that the longer the stop, the pickier they were. On the occasion of conflicts, or the raids with local bluffers, a few will probably end up with the slit throats in the local bay.
"Every Sunday, will be a day off duty, with two exceptions: the watch will work as usual and after noon, we will all meet on the upper deck. After the mass, I will have a few words for you, and then I will announce prizes and punishments. The other 6 days of the week will be full of hard work. This is good for the crew as well as for the ship. We also have passengers on board,” he pointed to a large group behind his back. “Every sailor should show them respect, especially for the ladies and failure to fulfill these duties, will meet with firm reaction.”
A small, black-clad man cleared his throat meaningfully.
“Yes. We have a VOC representative with us - Francisco Pelsaert - and ... during this voyage, his position on this board is right after God,” This sentence, the captain finished with a sour smile, “He also has a few words for you.”
A senior merchant in the rank of a commander stepped forward in front of the captain. On his chest there was a golden sash with an embroidered VOC inscription. The same motif was visible on a high black hat, from under which long and dark hair were hanging. His voice was high but confident and accustomed to giving orders.
“Sailors!” He was standing in a slight stride with hands clasped on his chest. “Your employer is the East India Company; whose property is this ship and everything on board! Of course, except for the people,” he smiled after his own joke, but no one else found this funny.
“I, Francisco Pelsaert, promise you an honest remuneration that will be paid in Batavia, unless this property is damaged during the voyage! If, however, deliberate acts of execution and theft are detected, your contracts will be reduced equivalent to the losses!” This time among the sailors there was a quiet roar of dissatisfaction, but it was impossible to tell who the author of the buzzing was.
“Silence!” The shout of one of the bosuns restored order.
“I must add that unlike your captain, I am not a great supporter of physical punishment and I will recommend them to the ship's council only in case of extreme necessity!” This time he heard a joyful commotion in response. The merchant withdrew into the crowd of passengers and officers. The captain growled, “Is everything clear?!”
The answer was an uneven chorus of affirmative voices.
“Let’s go to work, we're going to have a hard night!”
After a few moments the deck was empty.
“Can I speak to you in private Commander Pelsaert?”
“Naturally Capt. Jakobsz. Let's go,” a short man stood at the side of the leeward, so that the words of the speakers would be taken by the wind. Adriaen Jakobsz joined him, filling a pipe on the way. He did not hurry, which caused a nervous snort from an older merchant.
"You do not like me," he finally said.
"My personal antipathy has nothing to do with you, Mr. Jacobsz. Our employer is the VOC and the board of directors have decided that we are to sail together.”
“But if it depended on you ...”
“But it does not matter,” he cut. "Believe me, I've done everything in my power to change this state of affairs.”
“Well, let's play with open cards.” Jakobsz put on the fire and after a few puffs, he inhaled deeply with aromatic smoke. “I would also like to sail under someone else. You were terribly unpleasant for me at this Governor's party.”
“You were drunk!” Pelsaert could not stand.
“I was, but it is the right of every sailor after a long voyage to India.”
“But you brought a dock hooker with you, making an affront to our host!”
“I do not deny this either and I do not remember much about my motives. But you did not have the right to treat me like a ship boy among all the gentlemen and ladies!”
“I had and would do it again ...”
“Don’t even start, Mr. Pelsaert!” The captain interrupted the trader in the middle of the sentence. In his hand, no one knew from where, appeared a half-empty bottle of gin. He took three long sips and with a sigh he detached the neck of the bottle from his mouth. "It's an old and painful thing," he added a little calmer. “But it wasn’t an isolated incident. When we were going back to the country from Dordrecht, you turned Commander Gheleijnsen against me. Fortunately, it ended with a reprimand, but ...”
"I had my reasons and you know them very well captain.”
“Go to hell with your honor, you are as sensitive as a naked woman caught off guard.”
"Captain Jakobsz ...” the face and tone of the commander's voice sobered up the feral sea wolf.
"The Lord deigns to forgive my exaltation," he said finally, hiding the corked bottle into one of the cavernous pockets. “It's the past and I want to talk about the present and the future. In fact, I want to ask you, because I cannot give an order if you question my opinion again in the presence of a crew. Never again, " he repeated with force.
“Is this a threat, Mr. Pelsaert?”
“Where, ladies and gentlemen, is the will to do the job I was hired for.”
“How is that?”
“We will be going half a year without calling to the port, and we have almost three hundred and fifty people compressed and doomed to each other. A good half are port dregs, blouses and often murderers, who thus avoided imminent death. Under such conditions, it's easy to rebel. And if you add gold and silver to it ...”
"Hush," the older merchant hissed now, and looked around nervously. Fortunately, no one was around. Francisco Pelsaert took a deeper breath. The captain was right, only with iron discipline and fear, they can keep everyone in discipline. And considering the cargo and the half-wild region of their journey, thoughts of rebellion were certain.
“Well, Mr Jacobsz, you are right, I leave commanding people and a ship in your hands. But please remember that I command a fleet and I will keep a close eye on your actions. You can be sure that I will report on all irregularities to Governor Coen.”
“Undoubtedly. Now, if you do not mind, I'll go to my cabin for a glass of gin. Oh, will we see you at a gala dinner?”
“Of course.”
“And without bad blood?”
"Everything in your hands, Captain Jakobsz.”
They parted coolly and were sure that it would not be friendly between the two. The senior merchant Francisco Pelsaert was convinced that knowing their mutual animosities, the VOC council deliberately gave him such a captain to keep them in check. It's hard but these few months are not forever, and two hundred guilders a month will compensate for such inconveniences.
One of the decks of the "Batavia" ship
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