Batavia Epub

by Pete Fitzsimons

  Talking point for days to come: Meister.

  Taken three times around the mast: Jacobs, p. 47.

  Chapter Two: Cry Mutiny!

  They proceed towards Tafelbaai: Godard, p. 78.

  The fewest trinkets, fans, plates: Pelsaert, Declaration (in Journal); Godard, p. 79.

  Closes the door firmly and moves on: Pelsaert, 19 September 1629.

  Gone ashore to promenade: By another account in Pelsaert’s Journal, the trio went to the Assendelft, not the Sardam.

  Very beastly with words: Pelsaert, Declaration (in Journal).

  And how would you do that?: Ibid.

  Hottentot dance: From an eyewitness account provided by soldier David Tappe in 1688, describing a visit to the Hottentots at the Cape: Van Gelder and Roeper, pp. 89–90.

  I am still for the Devil anyhow: Ibid.

  Most famous pirate of their time: Snelders, p. 41.

  It can be done if handled right: Pelsaert, 17 September 1629.

  Even worth risking your life for: Ibid., 19 September 1629; Dash, p. 115.

  With his hand on the whip-staff: The whip-staff was a stout piece of timber passing through a hole in the deck to a pivot and from there to the end of the tiller.

  The mighty Batavia gradually alters course: We only know for certain that Jacobsz was the one who contrived to separate the Batavia from the rest of the fleet. The account given here is my best assumption as to how he achieved it. The altering of the ship’s course would have taken place gradually, rather than suddenly, because nothing goes suddenly when manoeuvring a sail-powered ship of this magnitude. For example, to make a 180-degree turn, the Batavia needed about five miles’ space and took about half an hour.

  The skipper shrugs off his concerns: Godard, p. 80.

  The sickness he picked up in India: Drake-Brockman, Voyage to Disaster, p. 28.

  Godless to such an extent: Bastiaensz (Predikant’s Letter), p. 254.

  Indecently maltreat her body: Batavia website, Western Australian Museum, http://202.14.152.30/collections/maritime/march/DHI-site/bat-hist-01.html.

  Over here! I need help!: Was Lucretia indeed raped? I frankly suspect so. Given the character of the men attacking her and the fact that none of them had been with a woman for at least seven months, that is at least the likelihood. But the record is unclear.

  Chapter Three: The Shine of the Moon o’er the Waves

  The shine of the moon o’er the waves: Pelsaert, 4 June 1629. As eminent an authority as Mike Dash has it the other way, that it was Hans who spotted the disturbance on the water and Jacobsz who assured him it was okay. I have remained true to Pelsaert’s Journal, which quotes the skipper as saying it was Bosschieter who made this most grievous error.

  This is not of my doing!: Ibid.

  What can that be?: Ibid.

  Some coral reef, miles from het Zuidland: Here, Jacobsz is attempting to cover up the fact that they may well have travelled too far before they turned northwards to Batavia. The risk taken travelling Brouwer’s Route was compounded by the inability to accurately calculate longitude – and certainly the Batavia was making good time. Underestimating the distance travelled led to numerous ships foundering off the coast of the Southland.

  They are able to take further soundings: Pelsaert, 4 June 1629.

  Only the skipper can strike the first blow: Edwards, Islands of Angry Ghosts, p. 25.

  Our back is surely as broken as the Batavia’s: Pelsaert, 4 June 1629.

  Just before nine in the morning: Ibid.

  The bread-locker: Ibid.

  There is a way this man carries himself: Given how well Wiebbe Hayes performed on the islands, he is highly unlikely to have been one of the soldiers who panicked or refused to obey orders, and the likelihood is that he really would have been noticed at this point as a good man in a crisis.

  Together worth well over 50,000 guilders: Pelsaert, 4 June 1629.

  You have been masters here long enough: Ibid., 19 September 1629.

  Just as if he were sowing seeds: Pelsaert, ‘The guilty sentenced and punished aboard the Sardam on the return leg’.

  Hard shards of coral for their bed: Pelsaert, 4 June 1629.

  Lucretia Jans knows naught: This is essentially a summation of the things that Pelsaert knew at this time and would likely have committed to his journal.

  There goes the rubbish: Pelsaert, ‘The guilty sentenced and punished aboard the Sardam on the return leg’.

  He has come with a message: Pelsaert, 4 June 1629.

  There is no one who will sail with you: Ibid., 5 June 1629.

  We are not going to run any risk: While this is not a verbatim quote from Pelsaert’s Journal, it is a reasonable extrapolation from the Commandeur’s description of events.

  Pelsaert is entirely powerless: Pelsaert, 5 June 1629.

  Chapter Four: Batavia’s Graveyard

  Pelsaert must cede: While this scene is not written about in Pelsaert’s Journal, I have assumed this is the case given the limited space and weight restrictions in the departing longboat and the fact the valuables chest is later referred to as being onshore.

  Myself and the others named below: The text of this letter has been created from Pelsaert, 6 June 1629.

  He arrives at an estimation of their latitude: Henrietta Drake-Brockman posits an interesting theory at this point, in her book Voyage to Disaster. That is that once Jacobsz realised the reef he had hit was precisely the reef he had been told to avoid, he consciously bodgied up the latitude so as to make it appear he had hit another reef entirely. And this, in turn, explained why Pelsaert made such hard work of finding the ship again.

  Funnelling it down into a barrel: Without knowing specifics such as this, at the very least we know that Hayes comported himself so well in the first fortnight on the island that he emerged as the leader.

  We have signed this with our own hand: Pelsaert, 8 June 1629.

  A seemingly dry cursed country: Ibid., 12 June 1629.

  The two are walking along the southern shore: It is known, at least, that the two established a friendship on the island.

  Wybrecht Claas volunteers to swim to the ship: Dash, pp. 137–8.

  There is no dissent: Ibid., p. 135.

  They are into the storm proper: Pelsaert, 9 June 1629.

  The blessed rain!: Dash, p. 138.

  Without spilling any of the precious water: This is the most likely method of having gathered the water, and Wiebbe Hayes is the most likely person to have instigated and commandeered such a system.

  The detritus spews out into the ocean: Dash, p. 139.

  The rocks now seem redder than before: Pelsaert, 13 June 1629.

  Mundooroo’s own mighty arm: This, and what follows, is my best attempt to recreate what happened from the information that is known, which comes from Pelsaert’s Journal.

  Chapter Five: The Grip Tightens

  The sick ones are far more important to her: The Lucretia who emerges after the assault is a far more humble, empathetic person. We know she has worked closely with Frans Jansz to try to cure Pelsaert aboard the Batavia and that Frans Jansz would have been the one to establish the sick tents. Lucretia, without family or other duties on the island, would have been the obvious person to help Frans Jansz in the sick tent.

  Drinking themselves to the point of bursting: Pelsaert, 15 June 1629.

  He requires everyone to sign a document: Ibid., 16 June 1629.

  You are the highest-ranking official: Dash, p. 141.

  Trusted with the Company’s most precious property: Ibid., pp. 141–2.

  A scarlet tunic brightly trimmed with gold braid: Godard, p. 139.

  A veritable promenading peacock: Pelsaert, 19 September 1629.

  They are even given some of the red velvet: Ibid.

  Woutersz was mouthing off about the mutiny: Ibid.

  And I’ ll tell you why: Edwards, Islands of Angry Ghosts, p. 40.

  This wonderful sound often comes from Cornelis: It was common for trumpeters to
play for the amusement of ships’ companies as well.

  It is Ryckert Woutersz: We know that Ryckert Woutersz was indiscreet on Batavia’s Graveyard, telling everyone about the mutiny, and that this greatly annoyed the other Mutineers. We also know that, shortly after Jeronimus arrived on the island, there is no further mention of Ryckert. Though it is not specifically stated in Pelsaert’s Journal, my assumption is that he was murdered, and that this was very likely the first murder ordered by Jeronimus.

  The wrath of the council: Again, if Woutersz was murdered, I think it would have been the perfect excuse for Jeronimus to tighten his control. It fits with his prior plan to use the assault of Lucretia to turn the ship’s company against Pelsaert.

  Be sure to take Jan Carstenz with you: Though there is no record of Jeronimus specifically ordering Hayes to take Carstenz to the High Islands, it makes sense that that was the case, to separate him from his beautiful wife, who would soon be a ‘woman for common service’.

  Their whiskers quivering: When Pelsaert was on this island a fortnight earlier, he had dissected the native Tammar wallabies and written up quite detailed notes on these curious ‘cats’, which were subsequently published in his journal (15 November 1629). The islands were later renamed ‘East Wallabi Island’ and ‘West Wallabi Island’, one assumes due to this fact. East and West Wallabi Island are the only islands in the Abrolhos upon which the Tammar wallaby lives. Thus, the soldiers had access to sources of both food and water (later discovered) that were unavailable to the Mutineers.

  Hayes orders his men to move at low tide: Dash, pp. 150, 376.

  In which case they would all be lost: From the moment that Pelsaert arrived alive in Batavia, both Jacobsz and Evertsz would be in great danger, as Pelsaert was always going to make the report he did, incriminating the skipper and his high bosun. Under those circumstances, it is surprising that Pelsaert met with no harm, and we may take it as given that this was because it was just too hard to murder him in such a packed vessel, surrounded by his loyalists.

  This green and fertile coast: Pelsaert, 27 June 1629.

  Until he thinks his belly will burst: Ibid.

  Jeronimus Cornelisz has made an oath: Ibid., 19 September 1629.

  Chapter Six: Bloody Oath

  It is a ship entering the same strait: Pelsaert, 2 July 1629.

  What extraordinarily whimsical winds: Ibid., 3 July 1629.

  It is one thing to put Hendricxsz to death: Pelsaert, Declaration (in Journal).

  While Ariaensz seems to have somehow escaped: It is possible he is ‘Ariaen the Gunner’, named in the letter Daniel Cornelisz was to deliver to the French soldiers on Hayes’s Island on 23 July 1629.

  There is a job of work to be done: In Pelsaert’s Journal, this is noted as occurring at Traitors’ Island, but I believe this to be a mistake. Traitors’ Island is not in the direction of the High Islands, and it was populated by the provost and his people, who were as yet unaware of the full murderous mayhem being orchestrated by Jeronimus. There are, however, islands just beyond Seals’ Island that entirely fit with the rest of the account.

  A good deal of thrashing and bucking: Pelsaert, 19 September 1629.

  The Mutineers fall about with laughter: Dash, pp. 204–5.

  Avail yourself of my hospitality: There is no record of their conversation at this point, but this would be the obvious justification for what Lucretia is being forced to do. Women for common service: Pelsaert, 19 September 1629.

  Woman for common service: Bastiaensz (Predikant’s Letter), p. 252.

  That is enough for her to soon lead the howling: Dash, p. 174.

  Looking right into the other man’s soul: As a point of interest, the author Mike Dash, the greatest authority on the subject, has it that because the day after Pelsaert arrived was a Sunday, he did not come before Coen until the Monday, 9 July, when he made a full report to both Coen and the Council of the East Indies (Dash). I accept the importance of Sundays to Dutch religion at this time but find it difficult to believe that on such an important matter Pelsaert would have been kept waiting for 36 hours to make his report.

  The ship was turned in time: Heeres, p. 148.

  Stab her dead: Pelsaert, 28 September 1629.

  His face and the bright blue sky: Ibid., 17 September 1629.

  They are saved: In a visit to the Abrolhos Islands in late March 2010, I was shown this very hole by a local called ‘Spags’, who, despite having haunted those parts for the previous 40 years, had only discovered it himself a year earlier. The rock covering the hole looks no different to any of the other rocks that are scattered for hundreds of yards in every direction. Yet this one really does sound hollow when you step on it, and I believe this is exactly the way they must have discovered it.

  Everyone who was once on Traitors’ Island: Pelsaert, 19 September 1629.

  He will do anything they ask: Ibid., 22 September 1629.

  Chapter Seven: Say Your Prayers

  Whatever it takes to survive: Pelsaert, 19 September 1629. Not even a week after the death of his daughter Hilletje on 8 July, Hardens signed the Mutineers’ oath on 12 July, presumably in the hope this would help protect his wife and himself.

  Salomon Deschamps, Under-Merchant: Ibid. Although Deschamps was officially an assistant, Pelsaert honours his old friend with the title ‘Under-Merchant’. Strictly speaking, only one Under-Merchant travelled on each retourschip. Of course, in the Batavia’s case, this was none other than Jeronimus Cornelisz.

  Passchier begins to weep: Ibid., 28 September 1629.

  He might become a babbler: Ibid., 19 September 1629.

  The doorway has suddenly filled: H. T. Colenbrander., J. P. Coen, Levensbeschrijving, 1934, Vol V, quoted in Drake-Brockman, Voyage to Disaster, p. 41.

  Andries is at a point well beyond desperation: Pelsaert, 28 September 1629.

  Send me Rutger Fredericxsz: Ibid.

  He would be happy to help: Ibid., 19 September 1629. Though Frans Jansz joined the Mutineers, there is no evidence that he had any enthusiasm for his membership whatsoever.

  A key project of his own: J. P. Coen’s Order to Pelsaert, in Drake-Brockman, Voyage to Disaster, p. 243.

  They must accompany Zevanck and Coenraat van Huyssen: Pelsaert, 19 September 1629.

  You must participate in the killing: Ibid., 12 November 1629.

  Their own burden would be lightened: Ibid., 19 September 1629. In the Commandeur’s words, ‘Jeronimus made several articles to which the women had to be put on oath if they wanted to remain alive, and that they had to be obedient to the men in all that they should desire of them.’

  We undersigned persons: Ibid.

  Treachery!: Ibid. We know at least that Cornelis Janszoon got away from the murderers on Seals’ Island and subsequently showed up on Hayes’s Island as he is mentioned in Jeronimus’s letter to the French dated 23 July 1629. It would have been him, or his confrères, who first informed Hayes of what was happening on Batavia’s Graveyard.

  Cut the throats of the women: Ibid., 24 September 1629.

  It nearly severs her head: Ibid.

  His eyes strangely glazed: Ibid., 12 November 1629.

  Go over there and fix it: Ibid.

  Marched to the permanent gallows: Hugh Edwards in conversation with the author.

  No, none of that: Drake-Brockman, Voyage to Disaster, pp. 38, 58–9.

  He is visible to those on Batavia’s Graveyard: Pelsaert, 30 November 1629. We know from Pelsaert’s Journal that the boys had shown themselves.

  You may also take some wine: Bastiaensz (Predikant’s Letter), p. 251.

  Crack!: Pelsaert, 28 September 1629.

  Will you do any evil to me?: Ibid.

  A bag of so many old spuds: Ibid.

  Aris is up on his feet: Ibid., 27 September 1629.

  He’s had it: Ibid.

  Chapter Eight: Attack!

  The boy is mad: Pelsaert, 26 September 1629. Bearing in mind Pelgrom’s obvious lack of sanity, his crazed demand appea
rs to be goading the Survivors (devils), with all their sacraments (religious beliefs and customs), to show themselves to him.

  They all emerge from the water: Ibid., 17 September 1629; Dash, p. 178.

  They take some of the barrel hoops: Bastiaensz (Predikant’s Letter), p. 253.

  Let alone the Frenchmen: Pelsaert, 30 November 1629.

  Signed, Jeronimus Cornelisz: Ibid., 19 September 1629.

  He has killed in cold blood: Ibid., 30 November 1629.

  Stab Hendrick Jansz in the heart: Ibid., 24 September 1629.

  Let him live a little longer: Dash, p. 251.

  Judick, my only child: Bastiaensz (Predikant’s Letter), p. 251.

  I’ll soon make her do it: Drake-Brockman, Voyage to Disaster, p. 63, quoting Ongeluckige Voyagie, 2 October 1629.

  That for which we have kept the women: Ibid.

  Rendering their muskets useless: Pelsaert, 17 September 1629; Dash, p. 221.

  Continue to hurl smaller rocks: There is little information available on the mechanics of the battle, but on close inspection of the terrain, together with what details there are, this is the way I think it must have played out. I do not give credence to any talk of catapults being made from bending trees or the like, all of it born of the curious notation in the Predikant’s Letter that they had constructed a ‘gun’. There are no trees. There are only shrubs. Nor do I believe that planks bent back could have achieved enough power to propel the rocks very far. The only thing that fits is slings.

  Strong, healthy and advancing rapidly: Pelsaert, 17 September 1629; Dash, p. 221.

  The place where thou has lost the ship: J. P. Coen’s Order to Pelsaert, in Drake-Brockman, Voyage to Disaster, p. 243.

  Anneken has been less than generous: This seems the most plausible explanation as to why this valued woman for common service was murdered.

  It may prove of some use: Pelsaert, 19 September 1629.

  He leaps aboard the lead skiff: Ibid., 28 September 1629. Pelsaert’s Journal contains conflicting testimony as to whether Jeronimus did attend this second attack. Having weighed the evidence, I concur with Pelsaert’s final sentencing that Jeronimus was indeed on the attack.

  The now familiar jeers of the Defenders: Ibid., 17 September 1629.

  Taking his own life in his hands: Ibid., 14 November 1629.