Lands of Red and Gold #35: Blooming Flowers
“The Nangu fear neither God nor danger. They care for naught but lucre and glory.”
- Vasily Mikhailovich Stolypin
* * *
The 1632 voyage of Willem Cornelis to Valk Land, the Copper Coast and the Island marked a watershed in the history of eastern Aururia. Its long isolation from the rest of the world had been broken; from this time forward, it would remain in contact with the wider world, and in particular with Europe.
For the investors of the United East India Company, the promise of new wealth in the Orient appealed, particularly given their unstable situation at home. Europe still reeled from the aftermath of a wave of epidemics whose combined death toll was exceeded only by the Black Death as the greatest plague in history [1]. The shock of those plagues had destabilised a continent already in upheaval, and set it aflame with religious and trade wars. The situation had grown unfortunate enough that one English statesman saw fit to remark: “it is as if a ring of fire has encircled the Continent”.
Still, for all of Europe’s troubles, markets remained for Oriental goods. Cargoes of silk, porcelain, peppers, cloves, nutmeg, and other spices still commanded high prices. The Company had to pay higher wages to attract employees from Europe to make the voyage to the East, but it remained a highly profitable enterprise.
Into this volatile environment, Cornelis’s voyage offered new opportunities, such as dyes, opals, new spices, and an additional source of gold. Above all, though, ranked kunduri. The natives chewed the drug with wood ash, but the Dutch sailors quickly discovered that it could be smoked, to most pleasing effect. Its effects were both like and unlike tobacco; more intense per weight, usually with a calming effect, but in large doses, it acted as a hallucinogen.
Kunduri created a new market for the Company, in the Indies, in India, and potentially in Amsterdam and Europe. Unfortunately, obtaining a reliable supply of the drug initially proved to be a difficult enterprise. Sailing to eastern Aururia was easy enough, with Dutch ships driven by the seemingly endless winds of the Roaring Forties. Sailing back to Batavia from eastern Aururia, though, posed more problems. It required waiting a long time for a change in the winds, or a long voyage around the east of the Great South Land. These difficulties were particularly galling when the Islanders were effortlessly able to sail west from their homeland to the Dutch trading posts on the western edge of the continent.
In time, these problems were resolved, and trade in kunduri boomed. With the booming trade, however, came competition...
* * *
Taken from: “People of the Seas: The Nangu Diaspora”
By Accord Anderson
New London, Alleghania: 1985
Chapter 2: Early Ventures
Venturesome yet restricted, the Nangu had been. Confined by a horizon of misknowledge, their voyages had been begotten of the possible, not the unknowable. Where rumours or faint existing knowledge preceded them, the Island’s trading captains had ventured in search of profit. Yet restrained they were by falsity of belief, by unwholesome fondness for the notion that all the tradeworthy civilizations were confined to the southeast and southwest of the continent. Beyond those confines, the Nangu ventured not.
Kumgatu [Werringi the Bold] shattered those old limits with his first great feat. Circumnavigation of Aururia beguiled the Island, yet his true accomplishment lay in the relocation of the horizons of knowledge. The Nangu learned of the great expanse of the globe. With the barriers of the mind now lifted, the trading captains could venture forth.
Truly great voyages could not yet be made, until sufficient Nangu acted in dandiri [bringing harmony]. From first knowledge of the Dutch and their goods, disharmony had been the reaction, with feud and vendetta the consequences. Bereft of balance and committed to waal [bringing discord] were too many, Nangu both high and low, those who listened not to better counsel, and those who followed where the imbalanced led.
Mistrust fed among the bloodlines in the early years, a poison on the Island. Rivalry had been ancient, competition and striving for achievement a mark of men of decisiveness, yet most Nangu had forgotten the need for balance with cooperation. Bloodline had always sought to undercut bloodline, but not where this meant weakening the Island against the world.
With the wealth and diseases of the wider world, too many Nangu forgot the old lessons. Feuds ruled the bloodlines, knives ruled the cities, and desperation ruled trade. Waal became the norm, the Council an argument rather than a mediator, and bloodlines sought to outbid each other at the expense of the Nangu.
Bought at unreasonable prices were Dutch goods, captains most astute at bargaining with Atjuntja or Yadji or Tjunini slavered over steel and silks. Marked the purchases were in unrealistic hope, that an excessively-priced commodity bought now could be resold at a price truly exorbitant to a greater fool. While plentiful the world supply of fools has been, it is not truly limitless; the overbidders found in time that they ran out of greater fools to resell to.
Contest and discord at home made for inaction abroad. Long had the Mutjing looked to the Island. Now they started to turn away. The Dutch called, found the Mutjing willing. Help did not come enough to those Mutjing who resisted Dutch influence. Decisiveness could have restored the drifting Seven Sisters to the Nangu orbit, yet hesitation and squabbling marked the Island’s response.
Inevitable were the consequences, in an Island where struggle predominated. Disharmony ruled too many, bringing them to ruin; time would bring an extinction to many ancient bloodlines.
Yet as each man’s fate is a balance between his own actions and the ripples of the cosmos, so the Island itself shook on waves born on another shore. Calamities afflicted the Island, many consequences of the Dutch. While misguided reactions to doom consigned many bloodlines, gravely troubled even the most harmonious still would have been.
Outlander goods, ships and merchants gravely weakened the old Nangu trade monopolies; Atjuntja gold and sandalwood increasingly sold north to Batavia, not east to the Island. Dutch ships ventured east in numbers ever greater; even if inferior in sailing technology, superior still in armaments and in cargo capacity. Kunduri, the greatest trade good of all, lost its exclusivity, Jugara [Victor Harbor] witnessing Dutch merchants bidding, often with Atjuntja goods brought east on Dutch not Nangu ships.
Superior westward-sailing ships preserved much Nangu advantage, granting them some wealth still, buoyed by the foresight of Gunnagal who refused to sell all of their greatest harvest to the Dutch. Bold Nangu captains brought kunduri and spices to the White City, although the fading authority of the King of Kings still stretched far enough to forbid the Nangu to sail around Cape Sunset to Fort Nassau. Yet still the old trading roads [2] were gravely weakened.
Plague and illness marked Dutch contact; death stalked ahead of them. Mumps, tuberculosis and chickenpox were scourges early and heavily felt; worse than one in ten Nangu died on the Island from the marks of the Dutch. Knowledge faded, labour grew scarce, markets grew smaller; scarcity brought its own consequences.
Discord reigned, yet not all bloodlines let feud consume them. The more aligned sought return to the old, better ways; competition between bloodlines, but cooperation between Nangu. Desperation and astuteness combined purposes to shape alliances.
Most determined, and most astute, was Kumgatu and his Wolalta bloodline. Negotiations opened with Yuma, elder of the Tjula, with bargaining most astute leading to pact. Old knowledge of cooperation forged with new concepts acquired from the Dutch. The outcome a syndicate, with proportional sharing of profit from all trading voyages that ventured further afield than Cape Sunset in the west or east of the River Gunawan [3]. The benefits obvious to anyone who heeded the counsel of the priests and sought harmony, two other bloodlines swiftly joined the syndicate.
Under the aegis of cooperation, the Nangu became venturers again...
* * *
The first sustained contact between Nangu and Nedlandj influenced both peoples. The Nedlandj were influenced by what they found – particularly kunduri – and were quick to report back on the wealth which could be found in what Cornelis’s report called “a land of gold, and more than gold”.
What the Nedlandj were slower to grasp was that in the Nangu, they had found a people unlike any they had met before. A people who were not content merely to trade with the Nedlandj, but prepared to sail out in search of new trade markets, and to seek to control trade on their own terms. A people of an alien faith whose priests sought, politely but persistently, to persuade all Nedlandj visitors to adopt their creed.
A people, in short, who would be influenced by the Nedlandj, but on their own terms.
The early Nangu reactions to the Nedlandj activities were a combination of concern, bemusement, and desire for the new opportunities. Concern, because the Nedlandj had started to displace Nangu influence in the Seven Sisters [Mutjing lands], with the potential to interfere with the food imports which sustained the Island. And because the Nedlandj trading directly at Jugara threatened to cut the Nangu entirely out of the kunduri trade.
Bemusement, because for all of the apparent wisdom of the Nedlandj, their ships could not manage as simple a task as sailing into the wind. And because of some of the prices the Nedlandj were willing to pay for commonplace goods, such as indigo and (especially) sweet peppers.
Desire, because for all of the factionalism and disease-induced strife which troubled the Island, the Nangu had never been a people to pass up on an opportunity. The sight and tales of European ships inspired the Island’s shipbuilders, and several bloodlines started to build bigger ships even before Cornelis’s visit.
Those efforts were intensified in the months after Nedlandj contact. Most of the bloodlines intended only to move larger volumes of cargo west to Atjuntja lands to trade with the Nedlandj. One group, though, had more ambitious ideas.
During the Nedlandj visit to the Island, many curious Nangu asked questions about the nature of this “Company” that the Nedlandj all obeyed – or was it worshipped? The answers were puzzling and misinterpreted in part by the Nangu; joint-stock companies were not a concept which mapped easily onto their worldview. Collaborative trade and profit-sharing, though, they understood easily enough, even if to most of the bloodlines, three centuries of rivalry prevented them putting it into practice.
Some, though, applied the new lessons.
Werringi the Bold wanted to build on his first circumnavigation of Aururia, while Yuma, the new elder of the Tjula bloodline, knew that his bloodline’s experience trading with the Atjuntja was obsolete with the new rush for direct trade with the Nedlandj. The Tjula had wealth and ships, the Wolalta had the knowledge and contacts with the eastern peoples to make truly long-range voyages possible.
A pact of cooperation and profit-sharing suited both of the bloodlines, and the terms were quickly and discreetly negotiated in 1633. Over the next year, two further bloodlines were quietly recruited to join the syndicate. The Muwanna bloodline were discredited politically within the Island, but preserved excellent contacts with the kingdom of Tjibarr, which promised access to large yields of kunduri. The Nyugal bloodline had voyaged to the Spice Coast [eastern Aururian seaboard] almost as much as the Wolalta, and were willing to bring their own ships and wealth to the new syndicate.
The syndicate had one major goal: to establish direct trade with the Raw Men in their trading posts in the Indies. They knew of the Nedlandj at Batabya [Batavia], and their rivals the Pannidj who had an outpost somewhere east of that land [Timor]. Werringi argued – and his collaborators agreed – that despite the risks, such voyages would allow much better terms for trading kunduri than bidding against other bloodlines to bring the drug to the White City.
Werringi first negotiated a treaty with the Patjimunra city-state of Torimi [Port Stephens, NSW], which was ideally placed to serve as a safe harbour and resupply point on voyages north. With the support of the Nyugal bloodline, he established a broader treaty with the Kiyungu city-states further north. The pact with the Kiyungu involved supplying iron weapons and armour, in exchange for spices and for farmers who would serve for several years at the more northerly resupply port which the syndicate planned to establish.
With Kiyungu support secured, the syndicate set up a new victualling and repair station in the northernmost reaches of Aururia, at a place which Werringi called Wujal [Cooktown, Queensland]. Here, on his first voyage north, he had found a natural harbour with suitable land for farming, and whose river offered easy inland access for any timber required to build or repair ships. The new outpost had a Wolalta port captain, a handful of permanent Nangu residents who were mostly carpenters and loggers, and a larger number of Kiyungu recruits sworn to serve five-year terms as farmers of kumara [sweet potato], taro, lesser yams, and wattles.
By 1635, Werringi was confident enough in his ships and knowledge of the sea routes to undertake a new long-range voyage. With four great-ships – one from each bloodline – and a few smaller vessels, his second great voyage set out from the Island with a cargo of previously-acquired kunduri. They sailed east and then north along the Spice Coast, including a visit to the Kiyungu to trade for additional cargo of eastern spices: lemon verbena, cinnamon verbena, aniseed verbena, and strawberry gum.
After visiting Wujal, they passed through the strait which Werringi had named the Coral Strait [Torres Strait], and sailed west and north toward the islands which they knew only as the Indies. Astute interpretation of the Nedlandj charts, combined with traditional Nangu stellar navigation, let them recognise the larger islands. Werringi led his ships through the Lombok Strait and then west along the north coast of Bali and Java until he arrived at Batabya.
The presence of Nangu traders in Batabya itself caused consternation, both amongst the Nedlandj and the native Javanese who lived around the port. The Governor-General of the Indies, Hendrik Brouwer, wondered for some time about how best to respond to these audacious Nangu.
Profit won in the end, though; the first shipments of kunduri to Europe were already showing marvellous profits, and having the Nangu ship them to Batabya would avoid the complication of sending ships to the eastern reaches of the South Land and having to deal with the difficulties of coming back [4]. The new spices which the Nangu brought offered intriguing potential too, especially since the Javanese had experimented with lemon verbena and were effusive in its praise.
So the Nedlandj and Nangu concluded their first trade deal outside of Aururia, and Werringi the Bold led his ships back east laden with wealth. They sailed from Batabya via the Coral Strait and the Inner Sea, south against the prevailing winds, until they arrived at Torimi to resupply.
Other strange ships waited in that harbour: large multi-masted vessels which were recognisably ships of the Raw Men, but flying an unfamiliar flag. These were the ships of William Baffin, sailing for the English East India Company...
* * *
12 April 1636
Amsterdam, United Netherlands
A dimly-lit room, with comfortable but widely-spaced chairs whose occupants can make out only outlines of each other. This is not a place for men to know who speaks to each other. What they discuss here is not treason, precisely, but it will gravely anger powerful men when it is revealed. If it is known too soon, the endeavour will fail.
Pieter Nuyts stands in the middle of the circle of chairs; he, at least, does not fear if his identity is known. Those same powerful men have already judged him and cast him out; he no longer fears their displeasure [5].
“A new world beckons,” he says. “A new people in a land of gold. Yadji, they are called. A people with more gold and silver than the Atjuntja, or the Aztecs before them.”
“Trading for gold would violate the Company’s monopoly,” someone says.
“The Company has ignored the Yadji and their gold,” another speaker says.
“Even so, to trade for gold would invite their retribution,” the first speaker answers.
“Let the Company keep their trading licence,” Nuyts says. “What I plan is more direct.”
Several of the occupants make polite inquiries.
Nuyts says, “The Company scratches around for gold, and for goods they can trade for it. They find some... but there is so much more to be had in the South Land. Why pay for eggs when you can own the chicken?”
That brings about a rustling of bodies on chairs, and quiet mutterings. At length, one speaker ventures, “You want to conquer the Yadji?”
Nuyts nods. “Indeed. Bring them to their knees, and their gold will be ours for the taking.”
“You think you can conquer their Empire?”
“It can be done,” Nuyts says, every word dripping with confidence. “Cortes broke the Aztecs. Pizzaro conquered the Inca. Both with only a handful of men.”
That produces a long, thoughtful silence. He knows what must be filling their thoughts: visions of gold. Is it time to make those visions more real? No, not yet. Let them consider for longer first.
A speaker says, “The Indians fought with stones. These South-Landers have iron.”
“Iron, yes, but not steel,” another speaker says.
Nuyts says, “The Yadji are a pagan rabble. They know not gunpowder; they lack both cannon and muskets. They have no cavalry. Given me a thousand good men, armed and trained, and I will have the Yadji bowing to me, and their wealth will give you recompense a hundredfold.”
“Bold, if it works. Foolhardy, perhaps, to strike at a land so far away,” says one speaker.
Another says, “The Company has allies nearby... Valk Land, is it called? Perhaps we could operate from there. If not, there is the Island. They will do anything for lucre.”
The first speaker says, “Even if so, how can a thousand men overrun an Empire? Cortes did not fight alone. We must have local allies, if this is to work.”
Nuyts smiles. “The Yadji rule over alien subjects. A people called the... Yadili on their border, who embrace the same pagan faith as the Island. They yearn to be free of the Yadji, and will surely help us. Better yet, the Yadji fight among themselves. Their last emperor was assassinated. His sons contest over his legacy.”
“Are you sure about this?” the first speaker asks.
“Quite. The one who slew their emperor wore this.”
He pulls the cloth from a podium beside him. This is the one place where there is bright light in the room, the better to reveal the golden eagle mask. Feathers delicately traced, fitting over a shape of gold, gleaming in the light. A worthy treasure in itself, but an auspicious omen of what can be found among the Yadji.
“They see this mask as damned, now; it was traded to the Yadji’s enemies the Tjibarr, who sold it to the Island, and then to us. But the Yadji still fight among themselves. They are weak, and ripe for conquest. Who wants to be part of this endeavour?”
This time, there is no pause, just enthusiastic acclamation.
* * *
[1] Across the world as a whole, the Aururian plagues have inflicted a higher absolute death toll than any previous epidemic in history, although the Black Death and some earlier plagues were worse in proportional terms.
[2] The Nangu word translated as “road” has a much broader meaning than the modern historical English equivalent.
[3] The River Gunawan is the Snowy River in historical eastern Victoria. In allohistorical Aururia, this marks the eastern border of the Yadji Empire. The Wolalta and Tjula have made, in effect, a trading company which will share profits anywhere outside of the core areas of Nangu trade.
[4] That is, the Dutch ships would need either to wait an interminable length of time for the prevailing winds to change, or sail all the way around eastern Aururia and New Guinea (or the Torres Strait) to come back to Batavia.
[5] Pieter Nuyts (senior) in actual history was a Dutch diplomat, explorer and politician. He was on the first Dutch expedition to visit southern Australia in 1626-7, where several geographical features are named after him today. After that expedition, he became a Dutch emissary to Japan, and governor of Formosa (Taiwan). He proved to be a failure both as diplomat and governor, angering the Japanese when he was there, causing resentment amongst the Taiwanese, and eventually taking some Japanese merchants hostage. Nuyt’s eldest son Laurens was one of the Dutchmen taken hostage by the Japanese in retaliation; Laurens died of dysentery in 1630 while still in Japanese imprisonment. Nuyts was so despised that he was extradited to Japan in 1632 to be punished there for his actions, and was imprisoned there for four years before his release was negotiated. When he returned to Batavia, he was given a large fine for his part in the whole mess with Japan, and sent back home.
In allohistory, Nuyts’s 1626 voyage never makes it to southern Aururia, since like most VOC expeditions by this time, it stops off at Fort Nassau instead to resupply. Here, Nuyts keenly noticed the wealth of gold in this new, barbaric land. (In both real history and allohistory, Nuyts had a low opinion of ‘natives’.) He still went to Formosa to serve as governor, where while the details were a bit different, he bungled relations with Japan badly enough that he was still packed of to Japan for punishment. The disruptions of the Marnitja and blue-sleep plagues, and a wealthier VOC being better able to negotiate, meant that Nuyts was released two years earlier (1634), and he was also fortunate that Laurens survived with him. Nuyts was still fined heavily and sent home to the Netherlands, though. In allohistory, though, he has found a suitable way to take revenge on the Company. (And thanks to Ran Exilis for suggesting the allohistorical potential of Pieter Nuyts).
* * *
Thoughts?
