Nathaniel's nutmeg (24 page)

'But before the returne of any of these ships, in the yeere
1599, the Dutch set forth another fleet.' Much to the
chagrin of Amsterdam s merchants, this new expedition had
been despatched by their trading rivals in Rotterdam and
Zeeland who had long been keen to involve themselves in
the spice trade. Amsterdam responded by toughening its
stance, informing its commanders to deal harshly with any
competitors. 'You know as well as we do what losses it
would cause us if the Zeeland ships were to arrive before
ours are fully loaded, Therefore Buy, Buy everything you can lay your hands on, and load it as quickly as possible.
Even if you have no room for it, keep on buying and bind
it to yourselves for future delivery.'

Their advice came too late. With more and more ships
heading for the 'spiceries', and with prices rising by the
month, the merchants of Amsterdam petitioned their
delegates in the States General, the body that represented
all the provinces of the United Netherlands, for a total and
exclusive monopoly on the spice trade. 'For many and
varied reasons,' they wrote, 'it is advisable that this
commerce be conducted by one administration.'

It was an outrageous demand and it was soon thrown
out. Yet the man who led the opposition, Johan van
Oldebarnvelt, who as Advocate or Attorney-General of
Holland was the most powerful man in the land, realised
that some sort of monopoly was essential if the spice trade was to flourish. He rejected Amsterdam's proposal, insisting
instead that small-time investors from the entire country
should be included 'so that these men can discuss ways and
means whereby this aforementioned navigation and trade
shall be secured for many years to come'. It was not a
popular move and was bitterly opposed by the Amsterdam
merchants, but on the evening of 20 March 1602, an
agreement was struck and the Dutch East India Company
officially came into being. Known as the VOC (Vereenigde
Oost-Indische Compagnie), or more colloquially as the
Seventeen after its seventeen-strong council, it was given a
total monopoly over the spice trade for a period of
twenty-one years. It was to prove a formidable rival to its
English counterpart.

The Seventeen wasted no time in sending their first fleet
to the East Indies. Just eleven days after putting their
signatures to the charter, they despatched three ships under
the robust command of Sebald de Weert whilst the rest of
the fleet, under Wybrand van Warwyck, left the Texel some
two months later. The men were ordered to establish
trading links with scores of countries and princedoms
including Java, Sumatra, Ceylon and the 'spiceries'. As if
that was not enough, van Warwyck was also instructed to
sail to China and open trading bases up and down the
coast. Military action was both permitted and expected:
'attack the Spanish and Portuguese wherever you find
them,' read the instructions, and it was not long before the
Dutch ships found themselves embroiled in local hostilities.
No sooner had Sebald de Weert arrived at Ceylon than the
maharajah 'protested much his hatred to the Portugall and
began to explore the possibilities of a joint assault on their
castles'. De Weert struck up an instant rapport with this
candid but jovial ruler who, he learned, had been brought
up by the Portuguese, converted to Christianity and taken
the name Dom Joao. Now, his friendship had turned sour
and he was planning his revenge, suggesting to de Weert
that if the Dutch vessels blockade the islands principal
port, he would attack the Portuguese castle with his land
forces. They could then repeat this exercise up and down
the coastline until the Portuguese had been decisively
trounced. In return, he promised to turn over the
Portuguese battlements to the Dutch and 'reserve his
merchandising for them'. This was too good an offer to
turn down and de Weert whole-heartedly embraced the
project.The good humour was not to last. De Weert's crew
were exhausted after their long journey and although
there was plenty of fresh fruit on the island, the humid
climate made them jumpy and irritable. 'They were
disquieted with flies and gnats which would not suffer
them to sleepe.' Even more annoying were the natives
'who made fire and smoake all the night'. But what really
angered the Dutch crew was the fact that they were still
living off the by now putrid salt beef loaded onto the ships
in Holland. 'The king entertained them well,' records one
journal, 'but their religion prohibiting to eat beefs and
buffals - whereof they had great plenty - they would not
sell any to the Hollanders.' This was all the more galling
since the surrounding fields and meadows, and even the
streets, were crowded with plump cattle and buffalo. To the
Singhalese, these were holy animals who harboured the
souls of their deceased relatives. But the Dutch, sick of
gnawing rancid gristle, saw juicy steaks in every cow that
passed. De Weert listened politely as Dom Joao explained
why he could not sell any cattle but privately he scoffed at
the suggestion of sacred cows and allowed his 'unruely'
men to go on the rampage, butchering cows and roasting
the meat over camp-fires.

The natives were horrified when they saw what was
happening and none more so than Dom Joao. 'The
Portugals had never offered such indignitie,' he stormed. De
Weert's apologies did little to dampen the fury over the
'sacriligious murther of beefs', nor did his offer of payment
for the butchered cows. 'From that time on,' wrote
Dutchman Jacob Rycx,'we were on a bad footing with the
king and his subjects.'

The incident was temporarily forgotten when the
military campaign against the Portuguese was resumed,
but resentment towards the Dutch continued to simmer
and when Dom Joao learned that his son had been
allowed to fall into enemy hands he decided that it was
time to act. With an outward show of friendship he invited
de Weert and his staff to a fabulous banquet and there had
his bloody revenge: While the Vice-Admiral and the King discussed
various matters, there was quite a bit of drinking.
Suddenly the King berated the Vice-Admiral for
having allowed the Portuguese to escape. By then De
Weert was pretty drunk. He denied the accusation
heatedly and insisted that the King and his retinue
pay him a courtesy visit on his ship, adding: 'The
Dutch are not accustomed to bend their knee
without receiving some respect in return.' This added
fuel to the fire and the King apparently convinced
himself that the Dutch were not to be trusted, and
that the invitation was for the sole purpose of taking
him prisoner. At a signal the King's followers drew
their swords, slaughtering the Vice-Admiral and all
those who were with him. There were three hundred
Singalese hidden in the woods near the beach, and
when they learned what was happening in the palace
they attacked those of us who were ashore. In all we
lost forty-seven men and six wounded ... And so it
was all enmity and we knowing what had caused this
because we thought we were all friends.

Dom Joao soon tried to mend fences with the Dutch but
there was an understandable lack of goodwill on the part of
the survivors. 'We are sailing for other lands where we shall
be treated less treacherously,' they informed the maharajah.

Long before news of the massacre reached Holland, yet
more ships had been despatched eastwards under the
command of Steven van der Hagan. These headed straight
to the Banda Islands where the commander intended to
build a fortified factory. He had expected to be greeted by
the party of Dutch traders left behind by Heemskerck but
as he stepped ashore and knocked on the factory gates he
was most surprised to find himself answered by a cheery
English voice. It was Christopher Colthurst, captain of the
Ascension,
who extended a gleeful welcome to van der
Hagen. The Dutchman quizzed Colthurst about the fate of
the Dutch settlers, only to learn that they had all been
murdered by the natives after a fiery argument. The cause
of their quarrel 'was a strangenesse', according to the
records.Two of the Dutchmen were said to have renounced
Christianity shortly after arriving in the Banda Islands and
had adopted the Islamic beliefs of the natives. 'They were
slaine by three Hollanders which, in revenge, were slaine by
the natives.' This led to a blood feud which ended only
when all the Dutchmen were dead. Van der Hagen was outraged by what he heard and
made veiled threats to the Bandanese. 'Stormie weather
followed,' writes Samuel Purchas in his colourful account
of the event,'
.
.
.
wherein all the beasts of the forrest crept
forth, the young lions roared after their prey; the ghastly
ghosts walked abroad in the darke, and the rulers of the
darknesse ... domineered at pleasure.' Gathering the island's
headmen together, the Dutch commander duped them
into signing a document that granted him a total and
permanent monopoly over their supply of nutmeg. To the
native chieftains, such a document was scarcely worth the
paper it was written on, but the Dutch treated it as a legally
binding agreement and would later use it as the
justification for their annexation of the Banda Islands.