Lands of Red and Gold, Act II

[Jared]

How will Islam be getting along with the West in this TL?

As with any good relationship status, that can best be summed up as "it's complicated".

The idea of the West as a coherent whole may not quite apply in this timeline, for instance, depending on where what would in OTL be Western nations fall on the ideological scale of monism vs panollidism. Similarly, where Islamic states fall on that ideological scale is also going to affect relationships with the West.

That said, there's still going to be a form of European/Western colonialism - again, if not quite like in OTL - which will have its effects on relationships between Western and Islamic states. Of course, Islam itself may develop different schools of thoughts as well. For instance, the Wahhabi movement itself will pretty much be butterflied away, but there's still likely to be a revivalist movement (or movements) at some point.

 

[Jared]

Lands of Red and Gold #87: The Wind That Shakes The Bunya

“Sweet slopes of Neeburra
Where the hills are so green
Sweet slopes of Neeburra
Glad I’m coming home to you.”
- From the chorus of “Sweet Slopes of Neeburra”, an iconic hit song from the band Great Artesians

* * *

History calls it the Darling Downs. A region of rolling hills on the western slopes of the continental divide, covered in abundant pastures and crops. The higher elevation of the hills attracts a decent amount of rainfall by the standards of this continent. Some of this water drains away down the sloping hills to the flatter interior, forming the Darling River that runs far to the southwest to join the Murray and then empty into the sea on the other side of the continent. More of the water sinks underground to be trapped in aquifers that form the world’s largest artesian basin, covering a quarter of the continent. Some of the water that drains into the basin will not return to the surface for two million years.

Allohistory calls it the Neeburra. The headwaters of the Anedeli [Darling Driver], one of the ancient Five Rivers, and a crucial trade route since ancient days. The old trade routes, though, do not follow the main course of the Anedeli. Instead, the trade runs along some of the southern tributaries of the Anedeli, into the northern highlands [New England tablelands] and the ancient sources of tin and gems.

Most of the Neeburra lies north of the main trade routes. To the Five Rivers traders who travel along the waterways, the Neeburra is naught but a backwater. A lightly-settled land filled with poor, backwards peoples who have little of interest. Occasionally one of the Five Rivers kingdoms – Tjibarr, Yigutji or, in former times, Lopitja – sent armies north in conquest. Those conquests never lasted long; they might impose tributary status for a time, but the available resources were few, and transportation difficult. Inevitably the conquests would be abandoned when some other pressing concern further south distracted the kingdoms.

The Neeburra is inhabited by two related peoples, the Yalatji in the north and the Butjupa in the south, divided by what they call the Border River [Dumaresq River, Macintyre River, and Barwon Rivers]. Large volumes of water are often difficult to obtain here, and so the inhabitants live in scattered agricultural communities, with few large towns. Most of their farming regions are surrounded by larger rangelands. The rangelands are managed by regular burning, and provide habitat for kangaroos that are hunted. The dwellers of the Neeburra do have domesticated birds – noroons [emus] and ducks – but they rely on game for much of their meat.

Politically, the Neeburra is divided into small chiefdoms, many of which do not endure for long. This is a region of region of frequent low-intensity warfare, fought over religion or access to water and rangelands. Endemic warfare over religion led to the gradual conversion of both Butjupa and Yalatji to the Tjarrling faith, which depending on who is asked is either a rival religion to Plirism, or a branch of that faith.

The Tjarrling sect (or religion) has much in common with orthodox Plirism, but treats the founding Good Man as a semi-divine figure, and views his spiritual successors as proper rulers. Plirites draws a sharp distinction between secular authority (those who rule) and religious instruction (those who guide individuals). Tjarrlinghi [1] have no such belief; on the contrary, their warrior-priestly caste seeks either to rule directly or to be highly influential advisors to those who do rule. Tjarrlinghi also believe that there should be a single leader to speak on religious matters and make binding decisions, unlike the much more amorphous Plirite religious hierarchy.

The Butjupa and Yalatji gradually adopted Tjarrling, and were converted as much by the spear as by the word. The Neeburra is the heartland of the Tjarrling faith, and every Butjupa and Yalatji chieftain is either a member of their warrior-priest caste, or is strongly guided by priestly advisors.

The Tjarrling faith calls for evangelism as much as does standard Plirism, but the inhabitants of the Neeburra have not been very adept at spreading their faith further. Partly this is because it took a long process of conversion before they were religiously united themselves, partly it is because of the constraints of geography and agriculture, but mostly it is due to the political divisions of the Neeburra meaning that the Yalatji and Butjupa exert little influence outside their immediate region.

To the east and north-east, the Neeburra is bounded by the mountains of the continental divide. To them, the most notable of these ranges are the Korroboree [Bunya Mountains]. The Korroboree contains a large number of bunya trees, which the Butjupa and Yalatji consider sacred. These trees produce nuts prodigiously but irregularly; those times are ones of sacred truce, when the usual raids are put aside for communal feasting. To the south-east are the northern highlands where can be found tin, gems and spices. To the south, the Neeburra is bounded by the Five Rivers, a region of more populous states and sometimes the source of would-be conquerors of the Neeburra.

To the west, the Neeburra is bounded by gradually more arid lands that eventually fade into desert. To the north, the land beyond the Tropic of Capricorn was long-unfarmable by the Butjupa and Yalatji; their staple crops of murnong and red yams did not grow there. So for centuries it marked a barrier to agriculture, with only hunter-gatherers to the north. The gradual spread of new crops – sweet potato and lesser yams – changed that restriction, and some Butjupa and Yalatji migrated further north. This was not a rapid migration, for neither of these peoples were particularly numerous.

Within these borders, the peoples of the Neeburra were constrained. For most of their history, they fought among themselves, and neither knew nor cared much for what lay beyond. Sometimes a particularly successful chieftain would launch crusades against the coastal-dwelling Kiyungu beyond the eastern mountains, or into the tin highlands. Such crusades rarely accomplished anything lasting, for after the death of a strong chieftain the Butjupa and Yalatji usually returned to fighting amongst themselves. Raids into the Five Rivers were sometimes conducting too, but rarely successfully, given that the riverlanders had both more population and often better weapons.

Isolated as they were from so much of Aururia, the Butjupa and Yalatji heard little of the coming of the Raw Men, save as much-distorted, scarcely-believable travellers’ tales. The Old World epidemics afflicted them, though even then the scattered nature of Neeburra communities spared some communities from most of the epidemics. The death toll was high enough, though, that it reduced the number of potential migrants further north. For gems – sapphires and emeralds - had been discovered in the north in 1526, and some miners headed north from the Neeburra in search of the earth’s bounty. Not even the toll from epidemics of unknown origin could completely quell gem lust.

Inevitably, even the relative isolation of the Neeburra could not keep it forever unaffected by the coming of Europeans...

* * *

In the 1640s and 1650s, the Neeburra was affected by three trends: a severe loss of population from fresh epidemics, the emergence of more reliable (if still low-scale) trade links with the wider world, and the arrival of European goods and animals which began to reshape their society.

The red breath [tuberculosis] and the pox [syphilis] continued to spread throughout the Neeburra during the early 1640s. Later in the decade they were joined by another killer: light-fever [typhus]. Light-fever appeared in some communities and inflicted a heavy toll, before vanishing and reappearing elsewhere weeks, months, or years later. The light-fever epidemic did not strike the Neeburra as badly as elsewhere, since it did not spread well in their thinly-populated lands, but it exacted another toll on an already-reducing population.

Of course, the Butjupa and Yalatji had never been completely cut off from the wider world; some trade flowed through their lands. They were the main intermediaries for coral to be traded from the Kiyungu into more southerly lands of the Five Rivers, while the valued drug kunduri was traded in the other direction. Some coral was also traded into the highlands for tin to make bronze; although that trade had recently faded as the Neeburrans began to adopt iron working.

The Neeburra itself produced little that interested the outside world. The most valuable was opals, found in a few places such as Black Eye [Lightning Ridge]. Even opals are not particularly sought after; they could also be obtained closer to the Five Rivers. Apart from opals, a few other commodities were occasionally traded. Parchment from emu or kangaroo hide, which was of less demand to a largely illiterate people, and so more valued in the Five Rivers. Subtropical fruits that did not grow further south, and so were occasionally exportable when dried. Small-scale copper mining to send the red metal to the Kiyungu and tin highlands, to make bronze for peoples who had not yet taken up iron working. Other commodities were of similarly low value. As such, the Neeburra had never conducted trade on a large scale.

The discoveries of the northern gemfields changed this dynamic. Sapphires and emeralds were highly desired in the Five Rivers, both for local use and because the Five Rivers traders had quickly realised how much Europeans valued gemstones. The lure of gemstones brought Tjibarri and Yigutjian traders north into the Neeburra, and with them came much larger quantities of goods to purchase the gems. Some of these were goods were of Five Rivers manufacture: jewellery, crafted objects of gold and silver, kunduri, dyes, incense and perfumes. Some of them were of European goods which were traded on. And a few were European-descended animals.

The introduction of European animals would, in time, change the Neeburra more than anything else. The first horses appeared in the Neeburra in the early 1650s, when Five Rivers traders started using them as transportation when visiting for gems. Inevitably a few escaped, and more were bought by Butjupa and Yalatji chieftains who were very impressed with the prospect of riding them in war and hunting. Cattle followed a few years later, after the Five Rivers traders took to bringing some cattle with them as mobile sources of meat.

Horses and cattle won some notice from the peoples of the Neeburra during the 1650s. But they would make the biggest difference in later decades, as a consequence of other changes. For in the early 1660s, the Neeburra was savaged by the single worst epidemic ever to afflict the Third World: the Great Death [measles]. A quarter of the population died, on top of previous epidemics which had between them killed almost as many people as the Great Death.

The severe toll of the Great Death accelerated the previous changes in Butjupa and Yalatji society. Changes which in time would lead to a transformation of their entire way of life.

Depopulation from the plagues meant the more marginal agricultural lands were abandoned. Fewer people meant less hunting, and thus the kangaroos bred much faster and recolonised the forsaken farmlands. In turn, the lack of labour meant that raising poultry for meat became much more difficult. The herding of noroons [emus] was almost abandoned entirely, with small-scale duck production being about the only surviving poultry farming. The domesticated population of horses and cattle expanded rapidly through natural increase, and the surviving Neeburrans found that horses made excellent aids in hunting kangaroos in the expanded rangelands. Cattle could also be left to graze for all of their food, rather than requiring supplemental feeding from wattles or other cultivated crops.

The Butjupa and Yalatji came to rely increasingly on hunted kangaroos and grazing cattle for more of their diet. Subsequent plagues such as diphtheria, influenza and pertussis (whooping cough) only increased their dependence on herding and hunting, and reduced their remaining agriculture. The peoples of the Neeburra did not relinquish agriculture entirely, but they adopted a more minimalist approach. They relied more on tree crops such as wattles, and almost completely abandoned root crops such as red yams, or anything else which required much digging. They learnt the art of making and storing fodder for reducing the effects of droughts. They did not give up settled life entirely – being protective of their wattle groves – but they became much more horse-riders and herders than farmers.

To support their ever-growing herds of cattle and horses, the Butjupa and Yalatji relied not just on what grew in the soil, but what came up from beneath it: water. The peoples of the Neeburra had long known of the artesian water beneath their feet, discovered when they started to dig deep wells. Access to good bore sites [2] had long been part of their warfare. With the increasing take up of cattle and horses – which needed more water than noroons – they expanded their use of bores. They also started expanding further west than their previous agricultural limits, into lands which were more marginal for agriculture but where horses and cattle could be supported thanks to the fossil water which they drew from the ground.

The spread of domesticated animals happened alongside other social changes caused by the Great Death. The disruption of the plagues encouraged even more internecine warfare amongst the Butjupa and Yalatji, and this only increased as competition for hunting, grazing and water rights became more important. The great dying caused religious ferment, too. The Neeburra had previously seen sporadic religious visionaries who arose to proclaim their interpretation of Tjarrling doctrine and the best way to promote harmony. This behaviour only increased after the Great Death, with prophecies and proclamations about what new actions were needed to restore the balance. The new forms of the Tjarrling faith continued to be proclaimed and reshaped as new chieftains arose based on their own interpretations of religious authority, and as new plagues regularly swept through the Neeburra causing ever more social unrest.

At first, the main impetus of the new religious movements was for internal action. Over time, the Butjupa and Yalatji shifted to more of being horsemen and cattle drivers, which increased their mobility. They also developed ever growing awareness of the wealth of the lands beyond their borders – a legacy of the increasing trade for gems and other products (even dried cattle meat). This meant that they turned more to external warfare as part of their way of life.

By the 1690s, horsemen raids on the fringes of Five Rivers territory had become part of the way of life. In time, they would become much more than that.

* * *

“Be of one people and one vision, that you may conquer your enemies and bring them to harmony.”
- Attributed to The Hunter

* * *

[1] Tjarrlinghi being the anglicised name for adherents of the Tjarrling faith, not the version used in their own languages.

[2] The Neeburrans lack any decent form of pumping technology (such as windmills). As such, they are limited to bore sites which have enough water pressure to bring water to the surface naturally.

* * *

Thoughts?

 

[TheScottishMongol]

Haha! The nomads arrive!

 

[Hnau]

Cool! So the Butjupa and Yalatji are in some ways analogues of the Plains Indians who adapted new Old World animals to their way of life... but more than that as well, because they were settled agricultural peoples before who had even begun working their own iron.

I like where you're going with this Jared. Fascinating. But I don't really know what panollidism is. Couldn't find many references to it in the thread as well.

 

[Jared]

Haha! The nomads arrive!

Every continent needs its Mongol analogues.

Cool! So the Butjupa and Yalatji are in some ways analogues of the Plains Indians who adapted new Old World animals to their way of life... but more than that as well, because they were settled agricultural peoples before who had even begun working their own iron.

Yes, the Butjupa and Yalatji are, like so many Aururian societies, occupying a peculiar middle ground between Old World and New World societies.

In OTL, of course, the Plains peoples often abandoned agriculture due to a combination of ravages from epidemics, and the introduction of European domesticated animals (mostly horses).

ITTL, the Neeburran peoples follow something of a similar path, but they still keep some agriculture, and their technology is also more advanced. They aren't going to abandon agriculture completely, but they will still produce something close to a herder society. With iron working. And which can mobilise a very large percentage of its population as cavalry, at need.

But I don't really know what panollidism is. Couldn't find many references to it in the thread as well.

There's not a great deal to go on about panollidism yet. It involves such a change in world-views and different understanding of society that it's hard to summarise without describing far, far more of how the history of thought develops in this timeline. Panollidism proper won't even emerge until Act III, although there will be some glimpses of its antecedents via opening and closing quotes, flash forwards, the framing device of Clements and Ashkettle, extracts from future books, etc.

Panollidism isn't even a single ideology, more of a framework around which particular ideologies will develop. But for a very, very rough idea, imagine how the history of organised labour might develop in the complete absence of Marxism, an almost complete reversal of nationalism (see the ATL quotes from The Nationalist Manifesto), and with a dash of non-European influences.

There's a reason "solidarity" is a word to conjure with ITTL.

 

[othyrsyde]

Sorry if I'm interrupting the flow of conversation for the most resent update, but I just wanted to thank everyone for the compliments on the painting (when I look at it,all I see is the screw ups ). There's a few more in the works, so expect more. And it's an honor to them for such a fine TL.

@Jared, I spent the last week reading the Prologue and Act I, so I'm again pretty familiar with the events and cultures of Aururia. Can't imagine it will take me too long to catch up here, so I can add commentary once again. And thank you for putting all the work you do to manifest this world. It's so detailed and well thought out, and described, I can see it.

 

[chr92]

@ Jared : still wowed. Hoping I'll learn the Tjibarr ploy soon.


@ othersyde : echoing all the other admirers of that painting.



@ both : more, more!

 

[Gwenc'hlan]

"The Hunter", the name is really cool : Tjibarr might have to look to the north (in addition to their south, west and even east). Rereading the Atjunja update I wonder what control the Dutch have over the country because the middle country seem rather independent.
othyrsyde's artwork is very good and has a real aboriginal vibe to it.

 

[Jared]

@Jared, I spent the last week reading the Prologue and Act I, so I'm again pretty familiar with the events and cultures of Aururia. Can't imagine it will take me too long to catch up here, so I can add commentary once again. And thank you for putting all the work you do to manifest this world. It's so detailed and well thought out, and described, I can see it.

Thanks - and I look forward to see any comments you may have.

@ Jared : still wowed. Hoping I'll learn the Tjibarr ploy soon.

In time. How soon it will be depends on how quickly I write about the intervening matters.

I'm not trying to be cryptic here; it's just that I don't know how many posts will be between here and then. The Matter of Tjibarr (unlike the Matter of Britain) does not have a set number of posts before I get to it. Rather, it will happen toward the end of Act II. Not quite at the end of Act II, but nearly there.

I'm not sure how long it will take me to get there. I do intend to keep things moving fairly quickly, and the whole of Act II (which runs up until the 1740s/1750s) will be shorter than Act II. And, both from a personal point of view (and, I suspect, a reader's point of view) I don't want to go into excruciating detail about the death toll and suffering from the remaining waves of European plagues. Some of the broader consequences and how Aururia adapts to them, yes. The plagues themselves and the death toll, no.

So we'll see.

"The Hunter", the name is really cool : Tjibarr might have to look to the north (in addition to their south, west and even east).

So they might. Enemies on all sides. (Well, apart from the boundless desert to the northwest.) Not an ideal position for the City between the Lakes. And an even stronger incentive to maintain a working alliance with Gutjanal and Yigutji.

Rereading the Atjunja update I wonder what control the Dutch have over the country because the middle country seem rather independent

The Dutch do not have control in any formal sense. What they do have is overwhelming influence, in just about every way that matters to them.

The VOC is not particularly interested in ruling the Middle Country directly. They could probably conquer the place if they really put their minds to it, particularly since they could attract a decent amount of support from rebellious nobles if they wanted it. But it would be expensive, risky (if they failed), and would not give them too much more than they already have.

What the VOC wants is:
(i) unfettered trade access in any goods that interest them;
(ii) to keep out any trading access from other European powers (and, to a lesser degree, the Islanders/Nangu); and
(iii) partly linked to (ii), to ensure that a pro-Dutch government remains in place in the White City.

They have pretty much all three. They don't have quite unfettered trade access in slaves, but then the slave trade is only new and small-scale yet. The Dutch have not yet built up a big trading network in Madagascar, or the ships to carry them. As soon as they do, it's a safe bet that they will use their leverage with the nobles (who want unlimited access to slaves) to open up that trade network too. Though even then, they would probably be willing to crack down on particularly rebellious nobles by withholding slaves, even the King of Kings asked for it.

Any attempt to directly conquer the Middle Country, if it failed, would certainly turn the King of Kings to look for another European power for support. Why take the risk? If the Atjuntja look like they might turn to another European power, then yes, the VOC would pull out all the stops to ensure that the Atjuntja remained in their sphere of influence, including by force of arms if required.

Of course, during a royal election, the VOC would exert whatever influence or lobbying necessary to get a pro-Dutch candidate elected to the throne.

 

[B_Munro]

Re Panollidism: so we see in this world the development of an ideology that holds that the measure of a civilized state is not it's ability to create an organically unified people, but rather it's ability to allow multiple ethnic/religious/whatever "nations" to coexist equally and peacefully?

In some ways this is like a return to the notion of many ancient states that the glory of an empire was enhanced by the variety of peoples existing under its rule...

It also changes how one looks at this:

Sweet slopes of Neeburra
Where the hills are so green
Sweet slopes of Neeburra
Glad I’m coming home to you.”
- From the chorus of “Sweet Slopes of Neeburra”, an iconic hit song from the band Great Artesians

At first glance, it seems to indicate that region of Aurauria, at least, as been colonized and Anglicized. But in the light of this notion, maybe it just indicates that the English-speaking community is just one successful component of some multi-national Auraurian state (which may use English as a Lingua Franca or in which being multilingual is simply the norm for any intelligent and educated person).

Bruce

 

[Dathi THorfinnsson]

Re Panollidism: so we see in this world the development of an ideology that holds that the measure of a civilized state is not it's ability to create an organically unified people, but rather it's ability to allow multiple ethnic/religious/whatever "nations" to coexist equally and peacefully?

In some ways this is like a return to the notion of many ancient states that the glory of an empire was enhanced by the variety of peoples existing under its rule...

It also changes how one looks at this:

Sweet slopes of Neeburra
Where the hills are so green
Sweet slopes of Neeburra
Glad I’m coming home to you.”
- From the chorus of “Sweet Slopes of Neeburra”, an iconic hit song from the band Great Artesians

At first glance, it seems to indicate that region of Aurauria, at least, as been colonized and Anglicized. But in the light of this notion, maybe it just indicates that the English-speaking community is just one successful component of some multi-national Auraurian state (which may use English as a Lingua Franca or in which being multilingual is simply the norm for any intelligent and educated person).

Bruce

Or the song is in some other language, and this is just the translation.

 

[Jared]

Re Panollidism: so we see in this world the development of an ideology that holds that the measure of a civilized state is not it's ability to create an organically unified people, but rather it's ability to allow multiple ethnic/religious/whatever "nations" to coexist equally and peacefully?

Strictly speaking, that's one form of TTL's nationalism, not panollidism per se. "Nationalism" in this timeline means - roughly - being part of a nation no matter where you live. This also links to ideas of sovereignty, popular sovereignty and so forth, which are also rather different.

For just one example, in OTL the idea of popular sovereignty, i.e. the sovereignty of the people, developed as an alternative to the monarch as sovereign (through divine right, or whatever basis the monarch claimed for authority). ITTL, what counts as a sovereign nation may not be the same thing as a sovereign state. And each may have a different source of sovereignty. (As may monarchs, where they remain.)

The counterpart, monism, has only had a couple of hints about how it looks at the world, but it's fair to say that it mostly has a different view of nationalism. Not entirely, though. Some forms of monism include some aspects of TTL's version of nationalism.

This is because both monism and panollidism are ideological frameworks, not ideologies per se. It's as if all of the flavours of what we call "left wing" in OTL were considered part of one framework, and those we consider "right wing" were part of the other. (Although TTL's equivalent of left and right wing will naturally look rather different.)

In some ways this is like a return to the notion of many ancient states that the glory of an empire was enhanced by the variety of peoples existing under its rule...

In some ways, certainly. Although of course ITTL it's quite likely that such a nation never goes away - it still lingered into the twentieth century in OTL, in some places, after all. (Austria-Hungary, in part).

And on that notion, I don't think anyone's actually raised the question of where the word panollidism came from. It's derived from (slightly misused) Greek roots: "pan" (all) and "aollidin: (in a body, together), with the latter word being elided to form panollidism. Make of that what you will.

At first glance, it seems to indicate that region of Aurauria, at least, as been colonized and Anglicized. But in the light of this notion, maybe it just indicates that the English-speaking community is just one successful component of some multi-national Auraurian state (which may use English as a Lingua Franca or in which being multilingual is simply the norm for any intelligent and educated person).

That's certainly a possibility. There are other things it could indicate, too. (As with most of the foreshadowing, I try to keep things somewhat ambiguous.) At the very least, I can say that multilingualism is more expected than it is in, say, the anglosphere in OTL.

Or the song is in some other language, and this is just the translation.

In a lot of cases I do simply "translate" what's originally meant to be in other languages, without bothering to indicate it, yes.

In this case, though, the song and band name are both originally in English.

 

[Huehuecoyotl]

In this case, though, the song and band name are both originally in English.

But surely translated from TTL!English to OTL!English? Most of the framework of Modern English was there by the 17th Century, but I have a suspicion that English ITTL would still sound a bit "off" to you or I.

 

[B_Munro]

But surely translated from TTL!English to OTL!English? Most of the framework of Modern English was there by the 17th Century, but I have a suspicion that English ITTL would still sound a bit "off" to you or I.

Certainly a lot of the slang and technical/scientific words will be quite different. There will be foreign borrowings unknown to OTL. And "correct" English grammar wasn't pinned down till the 19th century, so this world's written English will no doubt contain things more or less subtly abominable to OTL grammar nazis.

Bruce

 

[PhilippeO]

They needed a criterion that would identify the best farmers, without including too many of the less successful farmers. They settled on ownership of an imported donkey, since that required that a farmer be of more than average prosperity to take part in the election.

The domesticated population of horses and cattle expanded rapidly through natural increase, and the surviving Neeburrans found that horses made excellent aids in hunting kangaroos in the expanded rangelands. Cattle could also be left to graze for all of their food, rather than requiring supplemental feeding from wattles or other cultivated crops.

Can horse and cattle population grow this fast ?

Aururia had contact with Westerner only for 60-50 years, the number of ship sent to Aururia is limited, and ship hold can only carry so many animals.

Assuming 50-60 years, 12-24 ship to Aururia eash year, 2-3 ship carrying animals each year, 200-300 animal per ship :

60 x 3 x 300 = 50.000 animals carried from outside to Aururia during that time.

of those some would be mules or gelding, reducing further number of animals for breeding population. many fertile animals would also used for war and draft, farmer own single donkey wouldn't able to get breeding population, etc. Many would also died during drought, at war, etc.

So only 10.000 - 20.000 animals would be available for breeding. Population growth would make them ? 50.000-200.000 horse, donkey and cattle at 1690 ?

Aururian have several million farming population. wouldn't low animal population make them available only to elite/noble population instead prosperous farmer and herders ?

 

[Jared]

But surely translated from TTL!English to OTL!English? Most of the framework of Modern English was there by the 17th Century, but I have a suspicion that English ITTL would still sound a bit "off" to you or I.

Quite. Translating from English into English is a necessary component of writing any ATL with a PoD set more than a century or two back. Or perhaps even sooner, given the rate of linguistic change for some words.

I occasionally use the occasional ATL word for something in dialogue, of course. But that's a literary device, meant as a reminder that people ITTL are using a different language, not as a representation of it. As a reader, it would be incredibly distracting if every second word in the timeline is followed by a [square brackets] translation of what it means.

Certainly a lot of the slang and technical/scientific words will be quite different. There will be foreign borrowings unknown to OTL. And "correct" English grammar wasn't pinned down till the 19th century, so this world's written English will no doubt contain things more or less subtly abominable to OTL grammar nazis.

There would have to be something to get ATL grammar nazis (or grammer nazis) rile up, even if it's not the same. None of this no split infinitives or can't end sentences with prepositions nonsense, perhaps replaced with some other Latin rule or two wrongly applied to English.

More generally, words can change quite dramatically in meaning in a few centuries. "Toilet" started out as a kind of cloth, then a cloth used on dressing tables, then any item on a dressing table, then the dressing table, then the act of dressing, then the dressing room, then any private room near a dressing room, and a couple more of iterations before ending up in the modern usage.

The fortunately now extinct word garderobe went through a series of such transformations from storeroom to private room to bedroom to toilet. Words such as "privy" and "water closet" had their own series of transformations.

But since I figure readers couldn't really give a shit about that sort of linguistic change, I just mostly "translate " things into OTL English.

Can horse and cattle population grow this fast?

Yes, they can, in decent circumstances. Cattle are capable of reproduction at about 15 months, and horses from 18 months in some cases (although in practice they usually aren't allowed to breed until about 3 years).

It's perfectly possible for the cattle population to increase four-fold in a single decade. (One cow having up to 5 calves, and two or three of those breeding within that decade, too).

Horses are a bit slower to increase their population, but still, tripling their population in a decade is quite feasible.

Start with, say, a breeding population of 5000 animals in 1660, gradually built up over the previous few decades. (More animals would have been imported than that, but others were gelded, not allowed to breed, died in war etc, and so the breeding population is only 5000.) By 1690, that could quite easily turn into 320,000 animals (for cattle). Add another decade, and you're into the millions. And that's assuming not a single animal imported since 1660 - any later imports only add to the population.

Of course, this presumes that there's enough suitable land around for the animals to be pastured. But the thing about this era is that there is a lot of suitable land available - former marginal farmland that has been abandoned due to the population decline. This is exactly the sort of environment where you could expect a very rapid rate of natural increase of livestock.

Aururian have several million farming population. wouldn't low animal population make them available only to elite/noble population instead prosperous farmer and herders ?

In some cases, but it depends on which people and which era.

There were donkeys so early in the Atjuntja lands because they were ground zero for imports (started during the 1620s). For the first decade or so that was mostly nobles using them, but the breeding population built up reasonably quickly, and more and more were imported. There were enough of them around that the more prosperous farmers (i.e. those who managed their lands well enough to grow spices or dyes) sold some of their goods to the nobles in exchange for donkeys - prized items, but which would increase a farmer's productivity - and the nobles then onsold those goods to the Dutch in exchange for more European products.

For the herders of the Neeburra, they get a fair number of imported horses and cattle because they have the gems to trade for them, and they are trading those with the aristocrats of the Five Rivers, who do have livestock and who want gems. So the spread of livestock to the Neeburra is also pretty rapid.

 

[Jared]

Lands of Red and Gold #88: Pepper and Gum and All Things Spice

“If a man does not understand your message, is the fault with you or with him?”
- Pinjarra

* * *

Sandstone Day, Cycle of the Rainbow, 426th Year of Harmony (6.19.426) / 28 October 1665
Gogarra [Newcastle, NSW], Kingdom of the Skin

The man who stood before him bowed deeply, lowering his body so much that he went down on one knee. “Be welcome in my abode of business,” the man intoned.

Berree Mudontji, a trading-captain of the nuttana [Nangu merchant association], inclined his head in acknowledgement. “Your hospitality honours me.”

Dalwalinoo picked up the candle that burned beside him, and used it to light two sticks of Yigutji incense. Their fragrant smoke wafted through the room, giving a pleasing scent that Berree believed were sarsaparilla seeds.

The other man replaced the candle in its stand, then smiled. He wore long, flowing, almost-robes, coloured gold and ironwood-green [olive green]; Berree could never remember what name the Patjimunra give to their indolent clothes. The cuffs of each sleeve hung low and loose, and would make any practical work difficult. They proclaimed a man who needed to perform no practical duties himself, and who could rely on others to work for him. The same message was conveyed by the short, conical, almost brimless hat that topped his head. The hat offered no useful shade; it just marked who the man was.

Despite the clothes of indolence, Dalwalinoo had attended to his guest personally. Such was a matter of status, amongst the Patjimunra. To them, a host should personally serve a guest of rank.

Dalwalinoo moved slowly and carefully, belying the awkward nature of his clothes. In fact, it made his steady movements seem part of a ritual. The Patjimunra made most things a ceremony; indeed, they would almost always refuse to deal with outsiders except via ceremony. He gestured to the waiting chairs, and only sat himself after his guest had settled into a comfortable position.

“May I offer you jeeree [lemon-scented tea]?” Dalwalinoo asked.

“That would be welcome,” Berree said, and shook his head. He would have preferred gum cider rather than jeeree, but a man made accommodations with what was available. The Cannon War and the War of the Ear had destroyed much of the cider gum plantations in the Cider Isle [Tasmania], and the Great Death had consumed so many lives that few workers remained to harvest what was left. Gum cider was now found more in memory than on the palate.

Dalwalinoo clapped his hands, and a waiting servant brought in two steaming clay cups. He handed one to his guest, then held the other near his mouth while he inhaled the scent.

Berree did the same. The fragrance had a hint of ginger, as well as the expected aroma of lemon. Sure enough, he saw that the jeeree was coloured red; it had been flavoured with whole ginger [1]. He sipped from the cup, tasting the blend of sweet lemon and sour ginger. “A pleasing calmness,” he said.

“A sip of the lemony peace,” Dalwalinoo said. A ritual phrase; the Patjimunra had many of them. They believed that jeeree invoked serenity in a man [2], and so they consumed it before any negotiations. Not to mention on almost any other occasion when they invoked ceremony.

“Does your tongue feel hunger?” Dalwalinoo said; a phrase spoken in the Nangu language, but of distinctly Patjimunra origin.

“Refreshments would please me,” Berree said. He chose his wording carefully, not saying anything which might be interpreted as a command. The Patjimunra did not take kindly to a guest giving instructions of any form during the greeting ceremony.

Another clap from the Patjimunra merchant, and the servant returned carrying a platter. On it rested an array of dried fruits and cubes of wealth-gum-glazed roast kumara [wattle-gum glazed sweet potato]. Dalwalinoo held the platter out to Berree, who picked up a few fruits and cubes, then took some himself.

The conversation while they ate was a series of polite enquiries about the health of their family and broader kin, and banalities about how their ventures were faring. Such was the expectation for the Patjimunra; no true discussion of commerce while eating or drinking.

They each agreed that all of their living kinfolk were healthy – even those that truly were not – and that their commerce was generally prospering. Among some peoples, making such statements would be foolish, leading only to more vigorous haggling on the grounds that a prosperous merchant could afford to pay a higher price to buy goods. The Patjimunra were not like that; a wealthy man was expected to be open about his success. To them, the art of haggling involved proclaiming that the offered price would be what a poor merchant would accept, not a prosperous one.

When the food was nearly finished, Dalwalinoo said, “Trade flows well; men are beginning to move back and forth again.”

Berree shook his head. “A development which will please all proper merchants.”

To these Patjimunra, a merchant was someone who travelled for trade. Although Dalwalinoo had junior merchants to travel for him for business now, at least if going any further than the capital Kinhung [Maitland]. Not too different a principle from the Nangu, where the greatest elders or senior captains sent out others to do their trading for them.

Berree had taken the time to find out as much as he could about Dalwalinoo, as indeed he did about any potential trading partner. By all reports, Dalwalinoo had been a master trader in his youth, travelling amongst the Patjimunra lands to find the best sources of spices, and even following the spice roads west to sell his spices in the Five Rivers. Still, the greatest part of his success had come recently. Dalwalinoo was simply one of those fortunate not just to have survived the Great Death himself, but to have had most of his junior traders do the same. He had thrived where many had died. Well, if the Balance tilts in your favour for a time, you would be a fool not to take advantage of it.

With the last of the food consumed, Dalwalinoo leaned back in his chair. “Have you brought your usual tohu [sugar] for me, that we can discuss a price?”

“Tohu I have, but more also. Far I have sailed, into the lands of strange stars [northern hemisphere], to the realm called Barrat [India]. Much they make that is strange and wonderful, and samples of two I have brought here.” Together with samples of several more which he would sell elsewhere, such as their exquisite lacquered goods from Coromandel, and saltpetre that commanded better prices in lands which had bought more muskets.

Berree reached down and picked up the larger of the two wooden boxes he had brought with him. “The Barratti have a fibre that can make the finest cloth. Lighter, more comfortable and more magnificent than the best linen. They call it cotton.”

He opened the box and passed across several samples of their woven goods. Then he waited for Dalwalinoo to try them, to feel them, and in one case to wrap it around himself so that he could judge the weight.

“This new fibre may be of some use,” the Patjimunra merchant conceded, eventually.

It would let him sell it for glorious prices, he meant, but Berree knew better than to point this out now. That would be something to say repeatedly once they began haggling over prices.

Berree reached for the second, smaller box. He opened it to reveal an assortment of dried fruit. Red, long and thin, and dried to two thin films of skin. The two sides were almost flat, so much had they shrunk when drying, and they ended in a sharp point. The fruit formed a slight crescent as it stretched from stalk to point.

“This is a new spice, grown in Barrat. Dried, naturally. Fry this spice in linseed oil, or cut it up and eat only small amounts directly. Do not eat too much at once. They are fiercer than the hottest purple peppers.”

Dalwalinoo raised an eyebrow. “I will try them. What are they called?”

“The Barrati call them tjilee.”

“Intriguing goods,” the Patjimunra merchant said. “This Barrat is not a place I have heard of before.”

More likely, a place he had been told about occasionally, but had not bothered to remember, Berree judged. Patjimunra merchants cared very little for where the goods they were sold came from, unless the place was well-known enough that it could be used as a selling point when trading the goods among their own people.

“It is a new place for our nuttana to sail to,” he said. Or nearly new. For too long, the Nedlandj had not agreed to allow any Nangu traders to sail west past Batavia. Not that such restrictions bound the nuttana, in themselves, but few Nangu who sailed further west returned. It had been a matter of much suspicion and debate that the Nedlandj had attacked any Nangu ships they found. The Nedlandj did not like competition.

Now, though, the Nedlandj were in open war with the Inglidj. The two Raw Men powers focused on their war with each other. They had stopped caring much about where Nangu ships sailed, being far too busy with their own battles.

“Since you have brought their goods here, then you must know how much you think they are worth. How much strawberry gun and purple peppers are you asking for these?”

“That is not something we should discuss immediately,” Berree said. And wait until you name the first price. “Have your servants prepare dishes with those tjilees first this evening, and show the cotton to any of your traders you wish. Then we can meet again to consider the price.”

“A good notion,” Dalwalinoo said, after a pause. Doubtless he had been hoping Berree would have been foolish enough to name an immediate price.

I have sailed further and traded in more lands than you riverbound Patjimunra can comprehend. Do you think I am so foolish? Let Dalwalinoo try these goods, think about them, and he would be more interested. Then they would agree on a good price.

A price that Dalwalinoo would believe was good, anyway. The Patjimunra’s purple peppers had been traded for years; the price was high, but not exorbitant. Now, though, Berree believed that purple peppers would soon be worth much more. The Nedlandj and Inglidj had been selling the common peppers in Barrat for several years, but they had only few of the fiercer purple peppers grown here in the Kingdom of the Skin. They did not quite realise how much more the purple peppers could be worth, to the Barratti. With the Raw Men distracted by war, this was the ideal time for Berree to step into that market and sell the purple peppers in far Barrat.

Dalwalinoo stood, and Berree rose a moment later. “I will consider this tonight, and meet again tomorrow. Until then, please accept my hospitality in the rooms which have been set aside for you.”

Set aside, where no Patjimunra would come except servants, of course. But Berree was used to their ways by now. “I am honoured,” he said.

* * *

Serpent Day, Cycle of the Sun, Year of the Flatulent Goanna [3] / 13 December 1665
Kinhung [Maitland, NSW], Kingdom of the Skin

Keduna of Bedooree adjusted the grey, loose-hanging sleeves of his bogwadah [indolent clothes]. The motion was more from habit than from any need, as he awaited the arrival of the judging lord. The grey sleeves contrasted nicely with the white of his main robes; a reminder that the pure white of justice would never be left unstained when touched by mortal hands.

A scarlet-and-gold-clad young man stood in the doorway. He stamped his foot five times on the stone floor, then proclaimed, “He comes! Kneel before the bearer of justice!”

Keduna went down on one knee and bowed, as did everyone else in the room. He did not look up until the scarlet-clad Dhanbang [noble] had strode over to the one chair in the room, taken up the sapphire-topped Rod of Judgement from where it rested on an adjoining table, and placed his ample fundament upon the chair.

The scarlet-and-gold man – a Dhanbang of some minor rank – said, “Hearken to the words of the bearer of justice!”

“Who stands for the aggrieved?” the scarlet-clad judging lord intoned.

Keduna took a step forward. “I, Keduna of Bedooree, Keduna son of Wallanipee, stand for Dalwalinoo son of Moora Koorda, and his associate merchants.”

“So let you swear,” said the judging lord.

Keduna said, “By my blood and spirit, I swear to serve the White God faithfully and truly in all that I say and do in this place, to honour truth, the natural order, and the Skin.”

“Who stands for the retorter?”

Mingeenyu of Gogarra rose and declared that he stood for a great list of people. Keduna did not bother to listen to all of their names; only the first one, Kurragwinya, truly mattered.

After Mingeenyu, too, had sworn to the White God, the scarlet-clad lord said, “The advocates and the scribes will remain. The aggrieved and retorters will leave until they are needed.”

With much bowing, the clients of both sides withdrew. All as it should be. Clients could not be present during a trial except when called to answer any questions from the judging lord. They must not be seen to influence the proceedings by their stature, or lack of same. Their advocates were equal, and so could state their case.

“What says your client?” asked the judging lord.

“Dalwalinoo, my client, is an honoured trader and Paabay [service provider caste], who makes commerce within the lands of the Water Mother and in the Skinless lands beyond. He reached a sworn agreement with Geduna of Awaki [Whittingham] for ten years’ worth of trade, beginning in the Year of the Fortunate Frog [1659 AD]. Geduna expired in the Great Death. Now his heirs, Kurragwinya and his brothers, refuse to honour this agreement. They have sold goods contrary to what was sworn.”

“What was in the agreement?”

“The sworn agreement was for Geduna to supply, from his lands and associates, agreed quantities of whole ginger, lemon verbena, and purple peppers, to be sold to my client at an agreed price in incense, perfume and resin, or for grain and weeping seeds [wattleseeds and weeping rice] in substitute where the aromatics could not be provided. The agreement was that the first quantities of the harvest would be sold to my client, with any surplus free to be sold elsewhere. But Gedunas’ heirs have not sold the agreed quantities to my client for the last three years. He knows that this year and the last, they have sold purple peppers and lemon verbena along the Spice Road and to Skinless sailors.”

“Which Warraghang [priestly caste member] delivered the sworn oaths?”

“Karoon son of Awigee, who also expired during the Great Death. No associate Warraghang were present to witness. Never the less, honoured one, I do have copies of my clients’ records about the quantities of spices which Geduna’s heirs sold-”

The scarlet-clad lord held up the Rod of Judgement. “Not necessary, perhaps. Let me hear first what the retorter’s advocate has to say. Mingeenyu – first, does your client, or rather, clients, dispute that the agreement was sworn.”

The opposing advocate said, “My clients do not disagree that an agreement was reached. Although I note that my opponent has not stated the quantities which were in the agreement. I would ask-”

“Is this a dispute over quantities?”

“It has become so, honoured one. The dispute is not what was agreed at first, but how fairness requires changes to the agreement.”

“Is that so?” the judging lord said, turning to Keduna.

“My client asks simply that the heirs of Karoon follow what was sworn by their father, rather than trying to change a sworn agreement. But to simplify things, honoured one, I have a parchment with the quantities that were agreed.” Keduna handed the parchment to the opposing advocate. “Do you disagree with those quantities?”

Mingeenyu scanned over the parchment, then nodded.

The scarlet-clad lord said, “Let us dispense with the question of quantities, then. Mingeenyu – second, you said that your clients wish to change the agreement. Why?”

“Honoured one, my clients suffered as severely as anyone in the Land from the Great Death. Their lands, and their associates’ lands, cannot produce what they once did, for want of workers and of craftsmen. The agreement was sworn for a more fortunate time, when my clients could expect that their lands would yield higher, given them some spices to sell elsewhere. Fairness requires that the quantity of spices to be delivered to Dalwalinoo is reduced to account for this.”

“Keduna- what says your client to this?”

“Honoured one, there are five things to be said. On the first finger, the sworn agreement contained no allowance for variation. If Geduna had wished changes to be permitted, he should have asked for them before making the agreement. On the second finger, my client has also lost traders and kin from the Great Death, but does not seek benefit from this. He could ask for higher prices for his own goods, but he has kept to what was sworn. On the third finger, my client is not asking the heirs of Geduna to provide spices which they do not have. If their lands do not produce enough, my client asks simply that all the spices which are produced are sold to him, as was sworn. On the fourth finger, the heirs of Geduna ask this not because of lower production, but because purple peppers and lemon verbena now command higher prices in the Skinless lands than when the prices were sworn between my client and Geduna. His heirs seek to breach the sworn agreement for greater profit, under the guise of losses from the Great Death. On the thumb, honoured one, what my client asks is nothing more than justice.”

As he spoke, Keduna watched the judging lord. While he had never appeared before this judging lord before, and thus did not know his name, he had long schooled himself to recognise truth in men’s faces. The scarlet-clad lord’s eyes had widened slightly when he heard about the increased prices that the outlanders paid for spices. While the opposing advocate spluttered and wove his way through a denial of the points, Keduna knew that he had the matter won at that moment.

* * *

The Kingdom of the Skin. The lands surrounding the Kuyal [Hunter River]. The dominion of the Patjimunra, the people divided and united by ginhi [caste], miners of coal, growers of multitudinous spices, and wilfully ignorant of the wider world outside the borders of the fertile valley that forms their homeland (see post #79).

The Patjimunra could not, of course, ignore the European plagues that swept through their lands, claiming an ever increasing toll of their people, and culminating in the Great Death [measles] that took the total death toll to about 45% of their pre-1619 population. The social disruption was immense, as it was throughout most of Aururia; leading to severe shortages of labourers, and a generous measure of social and religious unrest.

The traditional Patjimunra social structure had a role for everyone, and expected that the caste they were born in dictated their station throughout life. The priestly caste supported the division into ginhi – indeed, they were its main advocates. Apart from that, they spent much of their time decrying each other, and had the habit of declaiming long speeches against the Kings of the Skin whenever some natural disaster or another affected the realm.

The Great Death, naturally, led to an increase in denunciations of the King of the Skin. Fortunately for his rule, the priests were mostly distracted trying to prevent too much movement between castes to orchestrate any campaigns to overthrow his rule. For the death toll had been higher in the cities than in the countryside. This led to shortages of workers in many of the urban occupations, those mostly performed by the Paabay [service providers] and Gidhay [higher craftsman] castes. The survivors in the towns made active efforts to recruit Baluga [agriculturalists] to move to the cities to take up the trades.

Despite the denunciations of the priests, many farmers did move to the cities to take up new occupations. Even a few of the more reduced priestly groups found it necessary to recruit (discreetly) a few Gidhay to join their ranks, mostly using the coal-mining subcaste who were viewed as working with the sacred black rock that burns.

The disruption to the occupational codes was exacerbated by migrations of the gwiginhi [skinless] from the south. This process had begun even before the Great Death, when peoples disrupted by the earlier plagues were driven to relocate. The formerly independent Patjimunra city-state of Ghulimba [Morriset / Dora Creek] had been conquered by the Malarri people in 1630, and the migrations meant that the Malarri now formed over half the town’s population.

The Great Death, and other warfare to the south, set off a greater chain of migrations. The Rrunga people had lived in the northern and western parts of what another history would call the Cumberland Plains (Sydney basin). Since 1646, that region had been engulfed in war provoked by the English East India Company (EIC), and the Rrunga were mostly the losers. They were pushed north, and in turned displaced more of the Malarri and Nyabba peoples who lived to their north [the Central Coast, NSW], and those peoples in turn pushed into the southern Patjimunra lands.

Keeping out the migrants was impossible, with the reduced population of the Kingdom of the Skin. Despite the prohibitions of ginhi, there were also those among the Patjimunra who welcomed the idea of additional labour, provided that a place could be found for the migrants. That place was, naturally, at the bottom of the social order.

The migrants were not permitted to own land or to take up the higher prestige occupations. But the Patjimunra already had a lower subcaste of transient workers, itinerants who did not own lands or a business. Many of those workers had found land or roles for themselves as a result of the Great Death. The migrant workers fitted nearly in replacing the missing transients, albeit even further down the social order. The names which the Patjimunra gave to the migrants – variants of outlander (polite) or outcast (more common) – reflected the way the migrants were viewed, but nonetheless the migrants had found the beginning of a place in the social order.

Migrants, of course, were only part of the broader social and religious unrest triggered by the Great Death. This unrest was reflected in the pressures on the ginhi social code, in proclamations by the priests against both breaches in ginhi and of the impiety of the King of the Skin, in some unrest by nobles, and in some religious conversions.

The Dhanbang caste [nobles and warriors] had, of course, a long tradition of challenging royal authority. This was sometimes manifested in bids to unseat the king, and sometimes in Dhanbang seeking to establish independent realms for themselves in outlying areas of Patjimunra lands. Indeed, the Kingdom of the Skin had a long history of losing and then regaining control of outlying regions.

At the time of the Great Death, there were three outlying regions which were independent of the King of the Skin’s rule: Torimi [Corlette] on the northern harbour [Port Stephens], Gwalimbal [Wollombi] in the uplands to the south-west, and Ghulimba on the southern lake that the Patjimunra called the Flat Sea [Lake Macquarie]. Ghulimba had been lost to Patjimunra rule entirely, but the other two remained independent Patjimunra city-states. In the aftermath of the Great Death, several other nobles bid for the crown itself, but were ultimately defeated. Due in part to the threat of migrant Skinless peoples pushing in, no other regions sought to assert independence during this period.

The religious unrest during this period was partly manifested through priestly argument, but was also notable for increased conversion. Plirism had already established itself in the Kingdom of the Skin, spread by Nangu traders, but formed only a small proportion (less than 10%) of the population. The disturbances of the Great Death made Plirism’s message more appealing. The era saw a steady increase in converts who accepted the Plirite message that the discord had been brought about by an impious king and priests – or by the Raw Men – and that proper harmony needed to be restored. In the decade and a half after the Great Death, Plirism increased to nearly 15% of the Patjimunra population.

While the Great Death brought incredible suffering to the Kingdom of the Skin, the surviving Patjimunra had some good fortune when it came to rebuilding their lives. The kingdom received growing wealth in goods imported from the Skinless lands. Their key spices commanded ever-increasing prices from European, Nuttana and Maori traders; the depopulation across the Third World only made the remaining spice production more valuable. This allowed them to reorient the surviving workers toward spice cultivation. The broad-based nature of Patjimunra trade meant that unlike many other Aururian societies (such as the Atjuntja), the wealth from that commerce was widely distributed amongst the survivors.

The Patjimunra were also spared from too much European meddling in their internal affairs, thanks to their studious indifference to any proposed pacts by individual European powers. The Kings of the Skin consistently refused to sanction any trade agreement or permanent trading posts for particular European powers. The monarchs bought some European weapons to defend against the restless peoples of their own lands (and neighbours), and the Pakanga (Maori) raids, but that was the limit of their agreements with the Skinless.

During the Proxy Wars (1640s and 1650s), this practice denied the English and Dutch East India Companies their usual levers for gaining influence over the indigenous powers, i.e. by arming one group and supporting them against their rivals. The small city-state of Torimi held no illusions about its ability to conquer the Kingdom of the Skin, and so the only pacts it concluded with European powers was to act as a resupply point, not as a permanent trade outpost.

Despite the suffering of the Great Death, the Patjimunra gained some additional breathing space with the outbreak of official war between England and the Netherlands. The Anglo-Dutch Wars would continue – with some periods of peace – into the 1680s. This meant that for a time the two leading European powers were far too committed to their own warfare to organise a major invasion of the Kingdom of the Skin. In terms of Patjimunra trade, the main beneficiary of this warfare was the newer French East India Company, which took advantage of the rival powers’ distractions to build up much stronger trading contacts with the leading Patjimunra merchant families. Even then, though, the Kings of the Skin maintained their refusal to countenance any permanent foreign presence in their lands.

So, perhaps more than any other Aururian state, the Kingdom of the Skin maintained its stability and its independence from the Raw Men during the troubled times after the Great Death.

* * *

[1] This “ginger” is the indigenous Aururian spice which is historically called native ginger (Alpinia caerulea), but which allohistorically is most commonly called white ginger. It is a shrub whose fruits, new shoots and tubers produce different varieties of gingery flavours. The flavour used here comes from the fruit. Aururians most commonly use the fruit fresh, in which case they only use the white pulp of the fruit (hence the name white ginger). Sometimes, as here, the whole fruit (including skin and seeds) is dried and ground to use as a flavouring in food and drink. When it does, it lends a reddish tinge to the final product. This means it is sometimes called red ginger, although most commonly the Aururians call it whole ginger.

[2] And the Patjimunra are right to believe that. Jeeree leaves – what is historically called the leaves of the lemon-scented tea-tree (Leptospermum petersonii) – have a mild sedative effect.

[3] The Patjimunra use the same basic Gunnagal calendar (see post #18) that has been adopted by most eastern Aururian farming peoples. That calendar divides the year into thirty 12-day cycles (with several intercalary days), but does not give any standard names to the years. Each Aururian society tends to adopt its own way of naming the years. The Nangu date their calendar from their first year of conversion to Plirism (1240 AD), a practice which has been followed by some societies that have since converted to the Nangu school of Plirism. Tjibarr and the Yadji Empire name their years based on the reigning monarch. The Patjimunra use a complex rotating cycle of mythical aspects to name the years.

* * *

Thoughts?

 

[Hnau]

It seems that the Kingdom of the Skin isn't the only Aururian society to adapt well to the new conditions following the Houtmanian exchange of animals, crops, and diseases. The Aururians are much more resilient than their closest analogues, the Amerindians. More so than I expected. But it seems like you've justified well why that would be the case. BTW, the Anglo-Dutch Wars must be horrific ITTL, they were pretty bad as it was IOTL but going on into the 1680s? Wow. I'm glad the French are using the conflict to develop some trade opportunities in Aururia.

Great work, Jared.

 

[Dathi THorfinnsson]

One doesnt think of lizards as being flatulent. But that might be my ignorance showing...

 

[Analytical Engine]

These year-naming conventions in Aururia remind me of the ones used in Discworld. It also saves Pterry from mentioning exactly which year (number-wise) things are set in.