Preface

This short work of historical fiction was produced for a community history project about the English East India Company in the early 17th century and the ‘Spice Wars’ with the Dutch East India Company. The project was led by Muhammad Ahmedullah under the auspices of the Brick Lane Circle and funded by the Heritage Lottery Fund.

The‘Spice Wars’ project began in 2022 when more than fifteen participants with varied backgrounds were recruited from local communities in East London. The participants visited libraries, archives and museums to undertake historical research about the East Inndia Company and the spice trade in the seventeenth century. They received training in creative writing to produce historical fiction inspired by their research. Using journals, letters, reports and eye witness accounts, the participants produced fifteen short stories relating to the experiences of Europeans, local rulers and indigenous peoples during the Spice Wars. This booklet reprints just one of these stories. An anthology containing the stories of all participants will be launched in Mile End, East London, on 18 June 2024. Please email me for details: derek.at.metier@gmail.com. Copies of the book will be available.

Historical note

In the 17th Century, Dutch and English traders entered the Indian Ocean seeking pepper, cloves, nutmeg and other spices in the East Indies where Portuguese traders already held sway. These protagonists became engaged in a conflict later to be known as the Spice Wars. In Europe at the time the most valuable spices were nutmeg, pepper and cloves. 

Nutmeg grew only in the remote island archipelago of the Banda Islands (now Maluku province of Indonesia). Cloves were harvested on islands a few hundred miles further north in the Moluccas.

The conflict between the Dutch and the English led to the Banda Massacre (often referred to as a Genocide) in 1621, carried out by the Dutch, depopulating the islands of its native people. The Dutch brought in Europeans to manage the nutmeg gardens and shipped in slaves from the Coromandel Coast of India and from Bengal via Arakan (present day Myanmar).

The war between the English and the Dutch was concluded by a peace treaty. The Dutch maintained their sovereignty over the East Indies, now Indonesia. The English abandoned their claim and moved their trading centre to Madras. From here the English went on to dominate the whole of India which became the ‘jewel in the crown’ of the British Empire.

Seedlings of Empire

Will Norrys rose each day at dawn to undertake the mundane tasks of a chandler’s assistant. In the England of King James, every person knew their place in the Great Chain of Being. But Will wished to be more than a mere clerk whose daily preoccupations were limited to quantities and costings.

He had been taught reading, writing and arithmetic at a dame school, with the help of a willow switch liberally applied. By the age of twelve, he could read a bill of sale and check quantities and summations. He took charge the purchase of ships’ provisions on behalf of his father, Tobias Norrys, a Master Chandler who supplied candles, oils, pickles, preserved herrings, barrelled butter, and hard cheeses to His Majesty’s Navy at the great dockyard at Deptford. 

Early on this July morning in the year 1614, with a mist over the marsh across the Thames, Will set out from Deptford to buy tallow. He passed by the naval dockyard, a forest of masts and creaking hulls heaving with the tide. In the middle channel, two ships made their measured progress, sails flapping in the meagre breeze. The yellow sun, low on the horizon, turning the haze to orange. 

Hailing a waterman, he crossed the river to Ratcliff where tanners stirred their stinking vats, lime burners stoked their kilns, and tallow makers boiled their vats of animal fat. He agreed the price for one hundredweight of fresh tallow, to be packed in old barrels and carried by pony across the river on the horse ferry to Deptford.

His business concluded, he drew his kerchief across his mouth against vile vapours as he picked his way along the muddy lane. A yellowish miasma settled in corners, undisturbed by the cleansing breeze from the Thames. Instead of returning home, he had resolved to go to Poplar where a new shipyard had been dug out of the mud at Blackwall by the Company of Merchants of London Trading into the East Indies. The Company was a new phenomenon. Tales of its riches were on the tongues of the citizens of London. There were stories of piracy, battles at sea, the customs of heathens, and the wealth of fabulous eastern empires. The possibilities beckoned young Will.

He took the lane along the shore towards Limehouse and reached the Causeway, taking the road above the flooded marsh called the Isle of Dogs, so-called because only dogs would choose that awful place. The lane continued to Poplar passing newly built wooden houses. Further on, a red brick house was adorned with a monogram ‘EIC’. At the end of the street rose an arch, the entrance to the yard in gleaming new stone, carrying a coat of arms with ‘1612’ carved on the keystone.

Peering through the arch, Will saw a wide quay and the wet dock, stretching a quarter of a mile to the river. He stood aside, watching the traffic of ponies lurching with great burdens, men carrying tools and bales or pushing laden handcarts, rolling barrels, bumping along the cobbles.

Clattering hooves and grinding wheels made Will wary. He pressed himself against the wall. From inside the yard, came the clang of hammers on red hot iron. Chains rumbled as they were drawn across cobbles. Voices were loud, orders bellowed, warnings shouted, songs chanted in unison as ropes were hauled and capstans turned.

A great wooden hull, tarred and blackened timbers rising from its massive keel, loomed over him. Fresh paint on the waist rails glowed. He counted rows of gun ports.

‘You, there! What business do you have in this place?’ The watchman beckoned to Will, calling him to a booth at the gate.

‘I am a chandler, Sir. Seeking an audience to tell how my Father, a Master Chandler of Deptford, might supply this place with candles and victuals.’

‘A chandler, you say? Not much for you in this yard, I fear. This company has its own providers.’ Will stayed silent. ‘But you might try the storekeeper at the Company’s office over yonder.’ He pointed to the brick house that Will had passed earlier.

He thanked the watchman and walked towards the Company house. In his bag was a small cheese, just three pounds, to assist his introduction. A cheese freshly made at Stepney, not the usual hard Suffolk cheese encountered on ships.

He stood before the door and knocked. A black coated clerk, younger than Will, opened the door only enough to show his pale, beardless face.

‘What is your business, Sir?’ asked the clerk.

‘I am here with proposals from my master, a chandler, to supply your ships with essentials. May I meet with your master? I have this fine cheese to offer as a sample of my wares.’

The clerk took the cheese in his hands as if to test the weight, sniffing it from habit. It was, indeed, a fine cheese. It would be churlish to hand it back. With a turn of his head, Will was beckoned through the door into the vestibule.

‘Wait here. I will ask if Mr Burrell will see you’. The clerk silently opened a side door and disappeared momentarily. He quickly returned.

‘The Master says that he will allow you a few moments to state your business. And he thanks you for the cheese.’

With trepidation, he took a deep breath and dusted down his clothes with his hands. As the clerk opened the door, he saw a bearded older man, in plain but well-cut clothing sitting behind a large oak desk.

‘Come in, young man. I hear that you know something of the victualling of ships.’

‘I do, indeed, Sir.’ Said Will, removing his cap in deference. I have assisted my father, a Master Chandler, since I was a boy.’

Burrell stared at Will: ‘I must advise you that our ships are well supplied. I fear that, despite your father’s undoubted competence and experience, they will not allow outsiders to supply our ships.’

Will’s confidence and his hopes for a lucrative opportunity, sank like a hulk in Backwall Creek.

‘Nevertheless’, Burrell continued, ‘your presence here is fortuitous. I am preparing ships for a voyage to the Indies, but I have been thwarted by a fool of a purser’s clerk. He had the temerity to steal from his Master, and the Company. For that he will be punished and never be allowed near any of our ships again.’

‘My quandary is that his perfidy has delayed the arrangements for this voyage. You should know that the King’s own ambassador will be on board and delay will cause royal displeasure. I need a man who can not only count but who I can trust. Could you be that man?’

Will’s disappointment was replaced by the realisation that this was his unexpected prospect.

‘Sir, I would be most grateful for this opportunity. And I will be a most trustworthy servant of the company, or I will pay with my reputation or even my liberty. That I may also serve our King makes it a great honour that I would not tarnish.’ Will surprised himself with his calmness and eloquence. It appeared to impress Burrell also.

‘Good man.’ Burrell cried, taking his hand. ‘let me show you to our Purser who will consider your skills and fortitude at greater length. You might be the answer to his prayers!’

Will was to become a Purser’s Clerk aboard the Dragon, the flagship of the voyage. The ship had been rebuilt with new oak timbers, new masts, and the best canvas sails from France. Dragon looked new with its gleaming fresh paint. The Commander was the well-respected William Keeling.

There were three other ships in the flotilla. The Peppercorn was smaller but carrying full rigging and guns to provide an agile armed escort.  The Expedition was built with large holds to carry merchandise out to the East Indies to trade for the spices and exotic goods in demand by Londoners.

A fourth ship, the Lyon, would take the Ambassador, Sir Thomas Roe, to the Mughal Court in Surat and therefore enjoyed cabins fit for the King’s representative and his retinue. The ship was newly built, and as large as the Dragon.

Men swarmed across Blackwall Yard, feeding these four behemoths. At the end of the day, Will was often too exhausted to return to Deptford and stayed at the Company house to rise early. As a Purser’s Clerk, he was responsible for everything required by crew, officers and passengers for their daily sustenance. Work only stopped for Christmas Day and by January the ships were loaded and fully crewed.

And so, on a cold, misty day in mid-January 1615, Will and some five hundred other men made their sombre farewells at the dock in Blackwall. The four ships were to assemble at Gravesend where the Ambassador would join them. Then there would be pomp and celebration but this meant little to Will or the other seamen. As the high tide ebbed, the ships hauled in their anchors and the flotilla made its way seawards.

A grand dinner was held at Gravesend, the ships bedecked with flags, with cannons fired in salute for the Honourable Governor of the Company and Committee Members. Thus, the flotilla was formally dispatched and the next day the four ships sailed to Tilbury where they remained, becalmed.

Will shivered as he stood on deck, pressed against a bulkhead to avoid the biting winter wind blowing off the Essex shore. He asked the Bo’sun why they were not setting sail. The ships were ready and fully provisioned, so why were they not sailing?

The Bo’sun, known only as Old Johnson, was taciturn. He looked at this impatient young man and simply said ‘no wind.’ The ships’ sails hung limply, waiting for a breeze to fill them. Johnson, who knew more about the ship and the weather than anyone, was resigned that they were at the mercy of the weather. Will learned his first important lesson about sea voyages.

It was days before winds stirred the topmost sails and the pilot came aboard. And so, on the third day of February, the flotilla finally set sail. Adverse winds slowed their progress and kept the English coast in sight on their port side port for the rest of February, threatening to ground them on hidden sand bars. Will’s frustration grew, would they ever reach the open sea? In the first week of March the flotilla turned south and the Lizard disappeared over the horizon. Two weeks later they rounded Cape Bojador where gales from the north-west threatened to drive them onto the African shore.

Will’s tasks at sea were not onerous. Thomas Arthington, the Purser, interfered little as Will applied himself to the task of dispensing supplies to the crew. He weighed out the victuals at fourteen ounces to the pound, a Purser’s Pound, to cover loss and spoilage, and a small profit for Arthington.

The novelty of observing life on board ship alleviated the tedium. There were few storms to terrify. More often, they would be becalmed. There were no fierce enemies to engage. Illness was inconsequential and no-one had yet died. He befriended the bosun’s mate, Thomas Perry, a young Essex man of his own age. They compared their lives on board and encouraged each other in adversity. In the evenings, when work was done and they were not required for the watch, they played cards and shared a flagon of beer.

They reached the Equator two days before Easter Day. Aboard the Dragon, a Communion service was held attended by the whole crew. The senior officers feasted on fresh pork, Keeling ordered Will to dole out a special issue of beer, with half a pound of meal and a handful of currants to each member of the crew.

Forty days after they had left sight of England, nearly all the livestock had gone.  There were no more fresh victuals, only hard tack, salted meat, and cheese which needed a hammer to break. As the flotilla sailed further south, a chill set in and men began to fall ill. Will was ordered to dole out lemon juice, a remedy for scurvy that Keeling had tried on a previous voyage.

Their first landfall was the Cape of Good Hope on the fifth of June, three months after their last sight of England. Sick men were taken ashore where fresh provisions helped them recover. Will bartered with the almost naked local people to replenish his supplies of fresh meat and grain. Knives were a valuable currency exchangeable for live cattle. He kept the coopers busy making barrels for salting.

Near the end of their sojourn at Table Bay, a ship was sighted coming from the east. It was the Merchant’s Hope, a company ship, returning from Surat with gratifying news about their victory over the Portuguese in the Swally Roads. Cannons were fired in celebration.

Keeling’s fleet sailed through the Mozambique Channel, somehow avoiding being shipwrecked. Expecting an attack by the Portuguese, warlike preparations were made. A Portuguese frigate was sighted but it turned south, avoiding conflict.

In mid-September they anchored in Swally Roads outside the harbour at Surat. Will and Thomas watched the triumphant departure of His Majesty’s Ambassador from the quarterdeck, the ship bedecked with flags, pennants and streamers. Red waistcloths hung round the ship, colourful and opulent. Keeling ordered gun salutes which roared across the lapping waves, clouds of smoke curling from the gun ports.

The Mughal Court welcomed the Ambassador and his retinue. It took six weeks to unload the ships and transport the goods to the company’s factory at Ahmedabad. They purchased local cotton yarn and cloth, more desirable than English wool and metalware when trading for spices in Sumatra.

With the Ambassador safely ensconced in Surat, the Lyon was to return to England alone with a cargo of sal ammoniac, indigo and green ginger. The four ships of the flotilla sailed south on the nineteenth day of February. On the following day the Lyon parted company, the others headed for Calicut along the Malabar Coast.

Will and Thomas, with all the other crew members were on constant alert. As the flotilla approached the Portuguese settlement at Goa they expected an attack, any ship might be an enemy. A local junk was captured but allowed to continue its journey to Surat. A week later, they captured a Portuguese ship, its crew fleeing ashore without a fight. The vessel was old and worn out and its contents worthless but it was taken as a meagre prize.

The Portuguese had displeased the Zamorin of Calicut and his small army was besieging their fort. The English were welcomed and invited to establish a new company factory. Keeling summoned Will to ask him if he wished to join it. Will declined, considering it dangerous. He was relieved when the Dragon sailed away, leaving behind four men, a boy servant and some merchandise.  Two more Portuguese ships were captured. The flotilla, now with three prize ships, put in at Brinjaon for water and fresh supplies.

The worthless hulk was sunk. The Expedition sailed to Tiku to buy pepper. The other ships and their prizes continued on to Achin where their cargoes were sold for a substantial sum to the benefit of the Company with one-sixth of the value divided amongst the ships’ crew and officers. After two months of negotiation, the King of Achin granted the Company trading rights. The Dragon and Peppercorn were able to leave, arriving at Tiku on 27th July to meet the Expedition.

Thomas Arthington died on 10 August 1616 from fever and the bloody flux. He was buried at sea, marked with a cannon shot to acknowledge his senior position. Will hoped this might lead to his own advancement. He received a summons to attend William Keeling in his cabin who addressed the young man:

‘The death of the Chief Purser is, indeed, a sad loss. But I know that you are more than capable of maintaining your duties and keeping the ship’s supplies in order’.

‘Thank you, Sir’. Will nodded in deference, ‘I will do my best’.

‘You will make your reports to me until we reach Bantam where there is someone wishing to return to England who can take his place. I will take charge of Arthington’s investment so that his widow can be repaid in full.’

Will was disappointed but he knew that in his lowly position it was unlikely that he would be summoned to replace Arthington.

‘However, young fellow, I have another task for you when we reach that town, if you are willing to accept it.’

Will, confused, and stared at Keeling.

‘My orders, since the beginning of this voyage, are to take charge of the Company’s affairs in the whole of the East Indies. The Portuguese and the Dutch are already here, but now as Englishmen we must take our opportunity. The Portuguese we have sent scurrying away in Surat, and the Dutch are taking their place from Ceylon to Japan.’

‘The Company’, continued Keeling, ‘wants me to oversee our activity from the Coromandel Coast to the Spice Islands. This is not my choice. In London they know little of how difficult it is for the English here and that we are but small beer compared to the power and ambitions of the Dutch and the local Sultans.’

No-one had ever addressed Will on such matters. He could only nod as if he understood the machinations of nations and kings.

‘I want you, Will, to come with me to Bantam. You will be employed in your usual tasks, victualling the Company’s ships, but I also need you to find out the intentions of our men already there. They have been abandoned for too long and attend to matters in their own way. Will you accept this challenge? You will be rewarded.’

‘Yes, Sir!’ said Will, unsure what this meant but unable to find a reason to refuse.

The Dragon continued on to Bantam, anchoring in the Roads two weeks later. Will was sent ashore with letters and gifts for John Jourdain, the Chief Factor. He would remain at the factory to prepare the provisions for ships returning to England whilst the Dragon, with Keeling on board, continued to  the Dutch base at Jakarta, a few days along the coast.

Bantam was the largest city in the East Indies. Will observed the forts, warehouses, and jetties in the harbour. In the town he perceived rows of houses, a tower, a heathen church, and people everywhere. There were Dutch ships, as large as the Dragon, with flags flying, junks from Malacca, overloaded and low in the water, and other ships from China and Japan. Sampans and small boats criss-crossed between the ships.

For the English, Bantam was a vile place. Their factory, set up ten years previously, was often empty of goods. Sickness was rampant. The Dutch intimidated the local Sultan and claimed a monopoly over the Arabs, Bengalis, Javanese, Chinese and Malays, who had traded pepper and spices long before them. The English were not treated differently.

Ashore, they were greeted with catcalls and abuse by the Dutch. The English were banished from the main town, sent across the river with other foreign merchants. The town with its squares, mosques and fine houses was not for them.

After a few days, Will could walk through the town but only with an armed escort. The market at Bantam was a fabulous sight, with people from many parts of Asia, strangely dressed, speaking in languages that he could not recognise. They brought their silks, porcelains, spices, carpets, and medicines for trade.

One day, as he inspected the fruits on display, he looked up to see a young man staring at him. Both shared the same red hair, trimmed red beard and ruddy complexion. It was as if he was gazing into a looking glass. They both nodded a polite greeting, each unsure of the other. Was this a ghost, or a messenger from the Devil? The other man said something incomprehensible. Seeing Will’s perplexed expression, he spoke in English.

‘My name is Pieter.’ Will’s confusion dissipated. The man was a Hollander and did not appear to be antagonistic.

‘I am Will, from the English factory.’

‘I can see that from your clothes. And I hear your English words.’

They fell into polite conversation, but both were intrigued as to who the other man was. Pieter continued:

‘I visited London many times, trading from Amsterdam. There I learned to some English.’

‘I am glad to make your acquaintance’, said Will. ‘We have had a poor welcome from the Dutch masters of this port.’

‘Indeed, they are hard taskmasters.’ said Pieter. ‘They are strict about how we act, what we eat, and even how we dress. They are fearful that, if they appear weak-willed, they will be robbed or murdered.’

‘Will you not be punished for even speaking to an Englishman?’

‘I think not.’ replied Pieter. ‘If you were Chinese in this town, it would be noticed. You look much like me, enough to confuse any onlooker.’ They laughed together at this observation.

Pieter walked back with Will towards the English factory, wished him well, and promised to meet again. The English complained how the Hollanders thought the East Indies were theirs and only they should trade. He decided not to mention his new acquaintance.

Keeling returned from Jakarta three weeks later. Soon after a ship from London weighed anchor in the Roads bringing a letter for Keeling with unexpected news. The Company had revoked its order that he should stay in Bantam and authorised his return to England. Keeling greeted the news that he could return to his wife with much relief. Will would remain in Bantam where he saw opportunities.

Thomas Perry took over Will’s tasks for the Dragon’s return journey. In early October, the Expedition arrived, loaded with spices from Sumatra. Two days later, both the Expedition and the Dragon left for England, taking Keeling with them. Will wished Thomas well for the voyage and asked him to deliver a letter to his father.

Will settled into his new life in Bantam, learning about trade and taking every opportunity to visit the town. The other men at the factory, cynical after long years in the East Indies, mocked him for his visits, telling him how the Dutch would abuse him, the Chinese would cheat, and the Javanese would beat and rob him. Will was drawn to the lively market and the raucous harbour where he would meet Pieter.

Will’s new master, John Jourdain, was eager to make the most of contracts, commodities, and customers. He saw opportunities to the east and Will was put to work preparing a ship bound for Japan loaded with lead, quicksilver, chests of silk, Indian drugs and lambskins.

Nathaniel Courthope, commander of the fleet at Bantam, was an adventurer whose idolised Sir Francis Drake, the scourge of Spain. Courthope saw himself in the same light, an affliction to the Dutch and others who thwarted the right of Englishmen to trade.

The island of Run, or Pulo Run, is a tiny speck of land almost impossible to find on any map. But for Courthope it was the focus of a single-minded obsession. The Dutch East India Company had long claimed a fiefdom over the spice islands of the Moluccas. Run was the only island not occupied by the Dutch and he had resolved to take it. Courthope’s two ships, the Swan and the Defence set sail eastwards and, with fair winds, might arrive by Christmas.

On Sundays and saints’ days, Will and Pieter would leave Bantam on the pretext of going hunting. They took narrow paths between the paddy fields which encircled the town until they reached the forest whose dark green leaves glistened with rain. A barbet flashed bright green as it flew across their path. High in trees, a hornbill observed their progress, its grotesque curved beak caught in the sunlight. Bright red lories chattered as they feasted on tree fruits.

Pieter brought a dog, barking with the joy of freedom, delighting in the smells of the jungle. Using nets, they would try to catch a duck, or a mouse-deer, with a snout like a mouse and a body like a deer but was neither. Will did not relish breaking their necks and he would be relieved if their hunting was unsuccessful. Will longed to see a fabled rhinoceros but he never did, doubting that these horned creatures existed.

In January came news from Courthope, brought on a ship from Amboina. The elders of Run had agreed that King James of England and Scotland was now also their king. In return for his protection, the English would be allowed to trade for nutmeg and mace.

The Dutch were outraged at this this threat to their monopoly. They sent a ship immediately to show their displeasure. Courthope dragged three large cannons to the top of the cliff overlooking the harbour. Wisely, the Dutch retreated but raised the blood flag, a declaration of war.

Pulo Run was put under siege, during which Courthope lost both the Swan and the Defence, one through capture by the Dutch, the other through mutiny. The Dutch blockaded the island with more than a dozen ships but the English refused to give up.

At Bantam they were unaware of the siege until the Spring of 1617 when a Malay ship arrived with Courthope’s lieutenant, Thomas Spurway. The Dutch failed to recognise them as English as the ship passed through the blockade. However, in Bantam, the newly appointed George Ball, spent most of his time attending to his own private ventures and ignored Spurway and his pleas for help.

The Dutch were not so reticent. They demanded the evacuation of Pulo Run and threatened to sink any English ship found in the Moluccas. George Ball ignored the Dutch who promptly declared war. There was open combat on the streets of Bantam as rival sailors attacked each other with knives and cutlasses. One of the English factors, searching for a flagon of arrack, was stopped, stripped and whipped, and vinegar poured over his wounds.

Will could no longer meet with Pieter. He saw him once, from a distance on the other side of the river that separated the English factory from the town. Pieter saw Will but they could not acknowledge each other.

The English were blockaded at Bantam, as they were at Run. In Bantam, they could at least obtain food and water. Will ventured out to the market with an armed guard, to buy rice and fruit and fish. He was adept at haggling but prices rose exorbitantly. Their meagre supplies in the factory were dwindling.

One day, returning across the bridge to the factory, their way was blocked by armed men. With curses, a large Dutchman jostled one of the Englishmen. Swords were drawn and the two gangs stood face to face. Suddenly, there were shouts in Dutch behind them. Will expected the worst but the angry words were not directed at him but at the Dutch. Will could not make out what was said but they sheathed their swords, bowed their heads and stepped aside.

The English were unsure of what was happening. Pieter came forward through the crowd. He shouted in Dutch and then in English that the official orders from the Dutch Company were not to fight the English. To do so might result in bloody retaliation. The Dutch Company would be patient and wait for the English, in Bantam or in Pulo Run, to give up or starve.

Pieter saw Will and greeted him in a friendly manner. The two gangs watched in bewilderment as these two strikingly similar young men talked and laughed like old friends. Weapons were put away and an English sailor offered a Dutchman a flagon of beer. On the bridge where they confronted each other, tension dissipated and they shared stories of home far away, talked of wives and families unseen for years, complained of the strange food and sour beer, and their fear of disease and death. They were more united in their mutual adversities than divided by the ambitions of their Companies in London and Amsterdam.

When news of this fraternisation reached ears of Jan Pieterszoon Coen, the Governor-General, he brought down the full force of his rage.  He stopped all contact with the English. Pieter and Will were once again separated by the river.

Chinese traders brought news from Courthope. Water was in short supply on Pulo Run and their diet was reduced to locally grown sago which the English found unpalatable. There were meagre supplies of rice from passing Chinese junks and fish caught when Dutch ships were out of sight.

Two English ships attempting to reach Courthope were intercepted by the Dutch and taken to Neira as prizes of war, the English sailors thrown into vile dungeons. A peace was agreed in London but this was unknown to Courthope who remained embattled at Run. A year later, attempting to escape, he would be killed, so ending the English adventure in the Spice Islands.

Both sides were exhausted with the futility of the war. Bantam was abandoned by both the English and the Dutch. A battered English flotilla sailed west to the Coromandel Coast leaving only a handful of men at their factory as a token presence. Coen also left Bantam, sailing to the Banda Islands.

It was the final separation for Will and Pieter. Will sailed to India where he was given a position in a new factory at Madras. Pieter was appointed to administer the Dutch settlement at Amboina. They were unable to say goodbye and both thought they would never meet each other again.

POSTSCRIPT

Arriving on the Coromandel Coast, Will was put in charge of trade with Surat and Arabia, the Company now looked to India for trading opportunities. Returning to London more than a decade later, he was given a place as an official of the Company at Bishopsgate.

England and the Dutch Republic were now allies. The English and Dutch Companies were rich, making treaties and sending fleets, sometimes jointly, to despoil their enemies. During the visit of a VOC delegation to London, Pieter and Will met once again. There was no mistaking each other’s red hair, both wearing it to their shoulders. Pieter covered his thinning hair with a wide-brimmed hat. Will’s beard was neatly trimmed to a point. Pieter was dressed in dark blue velvet from Bruges and Will in deep red silk satin from China. Pieter’s lace collar and cuffs were elaborate but Will’s plain linen collar was more functional.

Greeting each other as long-lost friends, they walked through the Bishopsgate beyond the wall to the Half Moon. Taking little notice of the food and ale, they spent hours recounting their adventures. They recalled how, naïve and ignorant, they had sought adventure as young men in Bantam. They congratulated each other on the success of their respective companies.

Pieter described how the Dutch were confronting the empires of Spain and Portugal in Brazil and the Caribbean. He enthusiastically described their colony, New Amsterdam, established over ten years previously. Will told him of the new English colony in Virginia and joked that there was room in America for all. They toasted each other and hoped that they would not have to fight as they did in the East Indies. They vowed to remain friends forever.

© Derek Perry 2023

The right of Derek Perry to be identified as the Author of the Work
has been asserted by him in accordance with
the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

Metier Publishing, London SE21 8SX