Two things are clear to him. One is that he can no longer trust his henchmen to do the job of getting rid of Hayes et al. without his guidance. The other is that by now it seems likely that those on Hayes’s Island are living better than they are. Two months earlier, they could only occasionally see thin and spindly smoke columns coming from the odd cooking fire on the far islands; now they see regular thick plumes. It looks like they must be feasting over there!
The Mutineers, meanwhile, if not starving and dying of thirst, are at least feeling the pinch. Much of the supplies that were salvaged from the Batavia have now been eaten up, meaning they are more reliant than ever on catching fish and birds to sustain them. So many of the Survivors have been killed that a lot of the Mutineers have been reduced to doing this hard work themselves!
As to water, it is really only Jeronimus and his concubine who do not have to ration it, while the others are obliged to suck pebbles and dilute what scant freshwater they are allowed with seawater to get by. Because of all the hardship and the straitened times, some of the Mutineers have become nearly as thin as the few overworked Survivors still left. Both Coenraat van Huyssen and Andries Liebent are particularly insistent that they cannot go on living like this. They affirm, loudly, that they are happy to risk death by attacking Wiebbe Hayes and his men, just so long as they have a chance to get their hands on their water and food. There is a look in their eyes, a stridency to their tone, which even makes Jeronimus feel he is in danger of losing control of the Mutineers if he does not find a solution. Something has to be done.
So it is that, on this day, the Kapitein-Generaal puts all of his 37 Mutineers and their six womenfolk – the four surviving women for common service, together with Judick and Lucretia – into two yawls and carefully heads towards Hayes’s Island with them. Between them, his men carry every bit of weaponry they can get their hands on. Jeronimus, of course, is armed with his wits and, most particularly, his charm, together with some supplies of cloth and red wine that he is sure the Hayes people will be desperate for. He is confident that, if he can just talk to Hayes and gain the soldier’s confidence, he will be able to work the situation to his advantage so that they can kill them all when the time is right.
Against all that, he is still sure, as they approach the High Islands, to sit at the back of the last yawl, just in case Wiebbe Hayes has any surprises for them, while sitting at the front of the first yawl is none other than the Predikant.
And this, of course, the Predikant himself realises, is what he has been kept alive for. If the Defenders won’t deal with the Mutineers, then the Predikant is the perfect go-between. He is a man of God, so the Defenders will be prone to trusting him, and the Mutineers know that, while they have Judick, he must remain at least broadly in their service.
1 September 1629, Hayes’s Island
As before, those on Hayes’s Island see the approaching yawls long before they come remotely close, and there are soon 50 pairs of eyes watching them closely, ready to react to whatever they do.
If the Mutineers split up and try to attack from different angles, then so, too, will the Defenders split up and defend the same. If the Mutineers try for the full-frontal attack, then the Defenders will mass their forces right in the way.
Strangely, however, the yawls do neither. To the amazement of the Defenders, the armada of red ragamuffins now draws up on the recalcitrant mudflats of the tiny islet directly opposite Hayes’s Island. What’s more, they are close enough that the Defenders can now see that Jeronimus is among them! There, see, the one in the back of the boat just pulling up now. And there are the women!
With a start, Jan Carstenz realises that, across the water, one of the women he is looking at is none other than his wife, Anneken Bosschieters, and it appears that the distinctively bulky man with his arm around her – his wife – is Wouter Loos!
Barely able to stand it – for he knows from talking to those who have come from Batavia’s Graveyard what his wife and the others have been put through – Jan is more motivated than most to get to grips with these Mutineers. Would that they attack soon so he can properly make reply!
And yet, for the moment at least, the Mutineers show no such inclination. Instead, they simply stand on the opposite shore.
Amazed, disgusted at their seeming cowardice, the Defenders now mass on their own shore and jeer across the water at the new arrivals. Have they come all this way just to stand there, or do they want to fight? The jeers turn to hoots of outright derision when the Defenders see the Predikant wading across to them, clearly an emissary from the big bully boys too scared to do their own dirty work.
Both sides watch as the Predikant wades his weary way across, each step a massive effort. Wiebbe Hayes walks out to greet him and to help him ashore for the last 20 yards or so. When they meet, the young soldier is profoundly shocked at his visitor’s appearance. Whereas, aboard the Batavia, the religious man had been as plump as he was pompous, all too aware of his superior class to most of the ship’s crew, the spectre who now stands before him does so as a broken man. If he’s not quite emaciated, it is nevertheless apparent that the rags of clothes he wears hang loosely off him, and even accomplishing so simple a journey as he has just done has completely exhausted him. What Hayes primarily notices, however, are the Predikant’s eyes. Whereas previously they shone with the light of religious rapture, they are now the eyes of a man whose whole world has been destroyed, including the spiritual world that he has devoted his life to . . . and now questions the very existence of.
For his part, the Predikant is stunned to see how strong and fit Hayes appears, and indeed all of his men look the same. Yes, the clothes they wear are all torn to pieces, mere rags, for they took only one set of clothes with them to the High Islands and there has been no way of repairing them – and some who seem to be missing their pants have even been obliged to use some kind of hastily cured animal fur to cover themselves – but there is no doubting the strength of the bodies beneath. It is true, then. These men really have been living well on these islands.
‘I bring you an offer of peace from the Kapitein-Generaal,’ the Predikant hesitantly begins, unsure of how he will be received by Hayes and unconsciously using Jeronimus’s new title.
‘Please proceed, Predikant,’ Hayes replies warmly, as he takes the Predikant’s tentatively outstretched hand in an attempt to put the highly troubled man at ease. Relieved, the Predikant explains that Jeronimus believes there has been a grievous misunderstanding, that all he has wanted from the outset, all that he has aspired to, is that everyone should survive until Pelsaert returns with the rescue yacht. If Hayes is in agreement and desirous of accepting such goodwill, the Predikant is hopeful that they can work out some kind of peace deal, some exchange between them of the things that both sides want. If they can, he reports, Jeronimus himself will come over to seal the deal, leader to leader.
There proceeds to be a good deal of to-ing and fro-ing as the exhausted Predikant tries to broker the deal between the two sides. True, there is a rather long hiatus in the negotiations when, after the Defenders relay through the Predikant that they refuse the terms that Jeronimus is offering, two of the more hot-headed armed Mutineers make a spontaneous attempt to fire on the Defenders. However, after the muskets malfunction yet one more time, the net result is only that the Defenders, less Jan Carstenz, who wants blood and wants it now, fall about laughing. After a few hours – enough for the Predikant to get his breath back – negotiations are resumed.
Finally, a rough deal is reached, decreeing that, in return for the Mutineers giving Wiebbe Hayes and his men a certain amount of cloth and red wine, the Defenders will give back the small makeshift boat that Aris Jansz so grievously stole from them five weeks earlier. An addendum is that, in return for the Mutineers giving over some of their woodworking tools and nails, the Defenders will provide them with barrels of fresh water and fresh meat from the cats. (The irony does not escape Wiebbe Hayes: Jeronimus, having initially sent him and
his men to the islands to die for lack of water, is now reduced to bartering with them for what water they have.)
In good faith, Wiebbe Hayes informs the Predikant that he is happy to sign the deal and make the exchange on the following morning. There remains one more thing. The Predikant tells Hayes that, on a purely personal level, he wishes to stay with the Defenders. Yes, he will miss Judick, but as one of only a dozen or so non-Mutineers left on Batavia’s Graveyard – no matter what oath he has been obliged to sign – he feels that it is only on Hayes’s Island that he will be safe.
The Defenders agree to the Predikant staying over. However, the Mutineers’ party insists he stay with them that night. The Predikant reluctantly agrees. Hopefully, it will all work out the following morning.
Not all the Mutineers are content with the deal. Coenraat van Huyssen, a hot-head at the best of times, declares in anger that he will fight the next day anyway, whatever happens. Of course, the Kapitein-Generaal is able to settle him down somewhat, explaining that it is all a ruse, and once the Defenders have been lulled into a false friendship he has a different plan entirely.
2 September 1629, Hayes’s Island
The day is sparkling, Jeronimus’s yawl is loaded with goods for barter and finally everything is all set.
This is a seemingly simple arrangement, for a seemingly simple exchange. Hayes has agreed that Jeronimus may be accompanied by five of his men – so, of course, Jeronimus takes, together with the Predikant, five of his most lethal killers: David Zevanck, Gisjbert van Welderen, Cornelis Pietersz, Wouter Loos and Coenraat van Huyssen. They are all heavily armed. Stonecutter Pietersz is ordered to stay on the islet and protect the womenfolk while maintaining order among the remaining Mutineers.
At this point, Jeronimus still has some hope of being able to use his mesmerising charm to bring Hayes around to the idea of joining forces with him, of sharing the treasure between them and jointly attacking whatever rescue yacht might arrive. If that doesn’t work, well, he hopes that his men might be able to make some headway with the others, in their own fashion. All they would need would be to have a few of the Hayes men turn against him and they could win the day, just as with only a few men he was able to seize control of Batavia’s Graveyard.
So, when the tide is at its highest on this mid-morning, Jeronimus and his five men take leave of the 30-odd other Mutineers and the women on the islet where they have spent the night. Together with the Predikant, they travel the short distance across the causeway and finally step ashore to come face to face with Wiebbe Hayes and a half-dozen of his own best men – it has been agreed that it is safer for both sides to have just a small meeting like this. The mood is tense. Only Jeronimus is smiling, charm itself, as he professes his delight to be there. Near giggling, he flutters around, ordering his men to unload the cloth from the skiff so the exchange can be made.
From Wiebbe Hayes’s side, there is not an ounce of levity, and certainly not of welcome. Two of Hayes’s men have escaped in extremis from the massacre on Seals’ Island, have seen up close the murderous brutality of these very men, and it is almost more than they can bear to be this close to such murderers and carry on as if this is some normal transaction. Jan Carstenz cannot take his eyes off Wouter Loos, who just the day before he saw with his arm around his wife. Hayes, too, is interested to come across Loos in such circumstances, and the two look at each other with some interest. Strange how things have turned out.
But to business.
Jeronimus begins by making some generally placatory comments, assuring Hayes and his Defenders of their good intent. He further regrets that there has been unpleasantness between their two islands, but it has only been on account of the lack of water, and there is no need to distrust them now there is enough for everyone. Regarding the killings they have heard about, the men put to death were mutineers and scoundrels who thoroughly deserved it.
At these last words, there is a rumbling from the Defenders who know only too well the falseness of them, yet, at a raised hand from Wiebbe Hayes, they instantly stop. He is their leader, not through terror like Jeronimus is, but through respect.
For Jeronimus to be able to properly corrupt Hayes’s soul, he needs some time alone with him, but, from the first, Hayes makes it clear he has no interest in this. Whatever Jeronimus has to say to him can be said in front of all his men.
With that plan thus thwarted, Jeronimus embarks on the actual exchange with Hayes, going through the amount of cloth, etc., while looking over the barrels of water and consignments of freshly killed cat that have been set aside for them. By making himself the centre of attention in this exchange, he is allowing David Zevanck and Coenraat van Huyssen to see if they can work their own black magic by circulating among the Defenders and engaging some of them in just the kind of private conversation that is so necessary for evil to triumph.
It is Zevanck who takes the lead. To the two French Defenders, he whispers the offer of a bribe of some 6000 guilders each plus a share of the jewels if they will come over to their side. What extraordinary luck they have to receive such an opportunity, ja? Zevanck confides that he wants them to remain with Hayes and the others until the word is given, and then, together, they could murder them, ja?
Nee. No.
For it is, in short, panning out exactly the way that Hayes and his men expected it to. None are particularly concerned. All of them keep half an eye on a stout Frenchman, one of those who remained loyal during Daniel Cornelisz’s visit, as he is approached by Zevanck. The Frenchman turns his hat sideways, for all the world as if he is merely shading his eyes from the sun.
Hayes, who has been surreptitiously watching for just such a signal, smiles rather grimly even as he continues to listen to the ongoing blandishments of Jeronimus.
‘And that is why, my friend,’ Jeronimus is trying one more time, ‘it will be better for us all if we pool our resources, in the name of both the Company and camaraderie . . .’
Hayes nods, as if this is an interesting notion that he hasn’t yet fully appreciated in his own simple way, but as the Onderkoopman still persists in speaking he slowly and rather ostentatiously lifts his left hand to his ear and begins rubbing it.
Around and about him, his men suddenly stiffen, as if they are tigers about to pounce. Jeronimus, whose acute antennae are quick to pick up on the sudden change in the atmosphere, pauses in his speech . . . and it is at this very moment that Hayes suddenly drops his hand to his upper thigh with a loud slap.
Neither Jeronimus, nor his men, have a chance to defend themselves. At this arranged signal, they are struck with mighty blows and disarmed by Hayes’s men, while the most dangerous of them, the Onderkoopman, is tied up with rope.
If Jeronimus had looked a little on the ludicrous side before, strutting onto their island like a peacock in heat, he is all the more pathetic now, still dressed in the same silk but lying in the dust and trussed up like a turkey.
Instead of gobbling like a turkey, however, he unleashes a stream of imprecations, threats and curses, mixed in with outraged pleas of innocence and shock at the betrayal, yes, betrayal, shown by Wiebbe Hayes.
On and on he goes. For whatever reason, Hayes simply lets him continue, smiling rather benignly down upon him. Behind his indifferent regard, though, Hayes is doing some furious thinking. Now that he has secured Jeronimus and his men, who are being firmly held by the Defenders, what is he actually going to do with them?
Releasing them is out of the question, and it is equally out of the question to place them under guard, given their lack of numbers and resources.
Suddenly, the decision is taken out of his hands. In one mighty lunge, the hugely powerful Wouter Loos frees himself from the hands holding him, knocks over two of Wiebbe Hayes’s men and makes a break for it. He runs like the wind, cuts like a hare, bolts like a nut, first upon the land and then through the shallows and back towards the skiff. The other Mutineers, watching from the islet, take advantage of the momentary confusion and start adva
ncing to save Wouter and perhaps the others, wading rapidly through the shallows towards Hayes’s Island.
Now, there really is no choice.
A collected Hayes coolly orders the captured men, with the exception of Jeronimus, to be killed.
The seething tension and fury that has burgeoned over the previous two months suddenly has another outlet. Needing no further encouragement, the Defenders swoop on the captured Mutineers as one, with serious resolve to kill, as five pikes are suddenly thrust viciously at them.
Coenraat van Huyssen lies in a vast pool of blood staining the sands, likely made larger by the blood flowing freely from David Zevanck’s neck. Both are dead within seconds. Gijsbert van Welderen, though not yet dead, is bleeding so profusely – his heaving entrails on full show like those of a half-gutted fish – that there is no question he will soon be dead too. And Cornelis Pietersz, too, has met a deserved grisly end, his head now lying grotesquely along his right shoulder, courtesy of an almighty axe blow that has nearly severed it.
And in the middle of it all Jeronimus just lies there, still trussed up like a turkey, his eyes glazed over, even as the hard-breathing Predikant stands by Hayes, untouched but horrified. ‘Breathe easy, Predikant, you are safe with us. More than can be said for this devil,’ reassures the leader, gesturing towards the wretched man lying at his feet.
‘But what of my daughter, Judick? Can she not be brought over . . .?’ the Predikant begins to beg of Hayes.
But time is now of the essence.
Wiebbe Hayes quickly orders a withdrawal from the shore and up to the cliff tops, dragging Jeronimus with them as they go. There, the rest of the Defenders await them.
The Predikant is caught once more between two camps. How can he leave behind his one and only daughter now that her protector has been killed? Without thinking, he breaks away from the departing Defenders and, following in Loos’s footsteps, makes headlong for the islet. Quickly, he comes upon the Mutineers advanced upon the shallows to rescue Wouter Loos.
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