Chapter 823 - The Dutch
The envoy seemed taken aback—he clearly hadn't expected the Governor to suddenly raise the subject of the Australians.
"They are a group from overseas! They claim to be descendants of the Great Song—" He paused, apparently realizing that invoking "Great Song" to a foreign devil was like playing the lute to a cow. He corrected himself: "That is to say, they claim to be descendants of Chinese people."
This aligned precisely with Li Siya's report. The Governor nodded to himself and asked several more questions about the Australians. The envoy seemed quite willing to answer, providing extensive information about this mysterious group—though most of it was rumor. While Old Liu Xiang had fought one battle with the Australians, he had never established formal contact with his opponent. Most of his intelligence came from hearsay; some derived from men who had been captured during the attack on Bopu and later released; the rest came from spy reports.
Although Old Liu Xiang had withdrawn from the Pearl River Estuary before the second counter-encirclement campaign—ceding ground to avoid conflict with Zheng Zhilong—he had planted numerous agents throughout the area. He knew all about the Transmigration Group's defeat of He Rubin, their shelling of the Bogue forts, and their advance directly upon the walls of Guangzhou. The Australians had always seemed a force hiding in remote backwaters, possessing strong ships and sharp cannons—but their sudden eruption of such overwhelming combat power was something he had never anticipated.
Fortunately, the Australians appeared to harbor no hostile intentions toward him. Their seizure of the Pearl River Estuary certainly provoked his irritation, but under no circumstances could he afford to fight on two fronts. Zheng Zhilong had to be dealt with first.
The Governor listened with careful attention, never interrupting. Only when the envoy paused did he ask clarifying questions. Gathering intelligence on the Australians was his primary interest now. The fact that Liu Xiang had clashed with the Australians was something he had not anticipated. And the revelation that the Chinese government had dispatched a great army to punish Lingao—only to be defeated by the Australians—interested him intensely.
Though the Dutch generally held a low opinion of Ming military competence, every Dutch military operation along the Chinese coast had ultimately been deterred by the seemingly inexhaustible manpower and resources the Ming could bring to bear. That these Australians—fellow outsiders who had occupied a corner of the Ming Empire—could withstand the tide-like army that had once terrified the Company and successfully carve out a piece of Chinese territory... this made De Carpentier feel a profound curiosity about them.
The news revealed by a single battle was worth more than all intelligence reports combined. De Carpentier had heard endless rumors about the Australians' astonishing firearms, and their two victories seemed to confirm much of what had been whispered.
Clearly, the Australians were a potent force. He rang the bell and summoned the attendant waiting outside.
"Take this gentleman down to rest," he ordered.
That evening, at a dinner gathering the Governor and Batavia's senior merchants, discussion turned to how to treat the Australians, whether to aid Old Liu Xiang, and how to manage Zheng Zhilong.
The East India Company's military strength in Batavia was decidedly limited. The expedition launched against China a few years earlier had involved only seven ships. The assault on Macau had employed merely fourteen. The total number of army troops was considerable, but these companies were scattered across dozens of trading posts throughout Java, spanning thousands of kilometers in the Company's service. Soldiers recruited from Europe—shipped thousands of miles across the ocean—died constantly, like flies, in the hot, humid climate and unsanitary conditions. Simply filling the vacancies in the existing garrisons seemed a daunting task to the Governor; he lacked the strength to mount another large-scale expedition.
As for the auxiliary troops composed of a small number of recruited local natives, no one harbored much hope for their combat effectiveness. It was questionable whether these natives could even be trusted.
Undertaking military commitments in the South China Sea with such limited forces exceeded Dutch capabilities—particularly when Zheng Zhilong still held the lifeline of the Company's trade with China. The merchants therefore concluded that the Governor's decision to refuse direct naval participation in the battle was correct. As for aiding Liu Xiang with ships and cannons, some debate arose among the senior merchants. Several believed that cannons were manageable—after all, European-style artillery had spread quite widely throughout East Asia. But pirates using European-style ships remained a tiny minority. Suddenly adding two European vessels to Old Liu Xiang's fleet would seriously provoke Zheng Zhilong and might produce adverse consequences for the Company.
Other senior merchants advocated selling the ships to Old Liu Xiang as a means of checking Zheng Zhilong's growing power. The Governor inclined toward this view.
"Gentlemen, the question of ships is not truly a problem," the Governor said, tapping lightly on the table. "Throughout the entire East Asian region, we are not the only party capable of providing ships. The Spanish in Manila, the Spanish in Macau—both could strengthen Old Liu Xiang with vessels if they chose. Let us not forget that in several recent clashes between Liu and Zheng, a Spanish galleon participated directly in battle. Even if Iquan suspects foul play, the primary suspects will be the Spanish. We can deny everything completely. Besides—do you truly believe Zheng Zhilong would break with us before he settles matters decisively with Old Liu Xiang?"
Furthermore, selling two derelict ships that would otherwise likely be scrapped for firewood and timber was profitable for the Company. After all, Old Liu Xiang was willing to pay cash. As for the crew shortage, he could recruit his own sailors—in Batavia, Manila, or Macau, one could always find scum of various nationalities willing to sail and fight for money.
The assembly ultimately agreed to the proposal to sell the Alert and the Ardent to Old Liu Xiang, complete with all weapons and navigation equipment. The Ardent would fetch ten thousand Spanish Reals; the Alert, seven thousand. Additionally, they would sell him ten bronze 12-pounder naval guns and twenty-four iron 6-pounder and 12-pounder naval guns, along with four hundred matchlocks.
"Your Excellency, do you believe it possible for Old Liu Xiang to defeat Iquan?" one merchant asked.
"It is difficult to say." De Carpentier shook his head. "By all accounts, the strength of both sides is roughly comparable. But Iquan clearly holds the advantage—he has the backing of the Chinese court. And Iquan has already defeated all rivals on the Fujian seas, including some who were once very powerful."
In the Governor's assessment, unless Old Liu Xiang could win continuously—or kill Zheng Zhilong himself in a single decisive engagement—he would eventually be ground down to defeat.
A sigh of regret circled the dining table. Old Liu Xiang could not truly be called an ally, but so long as he remained in play, Zheng Zhilong's attitude could be kept somewhat in check. Once Old Liu Xiang fell, no force would remain capable of containing Zheng Zhilong.
"Gentlemen, even without Old Liu Xiang, there are others in this world." De Carpentier gave voice to the thought that had been forming in his mind. "Have any of you heard of the Australians?"
The Governor sat in his armchair. Through the tall window beside his desk, he could see the city of Batavia spread out before him. Construction had been underway since 1619, and the city had been continuously expanding and strengthening over more than a decade. Now it was beginning to take recognizable shape. De Carpentier had no doubt that whoever occupied this seat in the future would look out upon an even more prosperous and magnificent Batavia.
A knock sounded at the door.
"Come in."
His secretary appeared in the doorway.
"Your Excellency, the Junior Merchant Van der Lanthroon, whom you summoned, has arrived."
"Show him in."
Van der Lanthroon entered carefully through the main door. He appeared to be in his early thirties, with a reserved, watchful face. This man was a nobleman from Zeeland who had served in the navy and seen battle. Now he held the rank of Junior Merchant in the East India Company. Though a Junior Merchant ranked above ordinary Company employees, such a position carried limited authority. On East India Company ships, only the Merchant wielded supreme command. At many trading posts, the Merchant possessed absolute power.
But as a Junior Merchant, Van der Lanthroon's authority had never extended beyond a single merchant vessel. He desperately hoped to rise to the position of Merchant—whether for a fleet or a trading post. The Dutch East India Company was a company that treated its employees with notorious stinginess; though the annual dividends paid to shareholders could reach thousands of guilders per share, the remuneration given to employees was meager. A Junior Merchant earned only twenty guilders per month, plus a food allowance worth roughly a quarter of his salary. Serving the Dutch East India Company faithfully was no path to wealth. Climbing as high as possible and exploiting the power of one's position to smuggle on the side—that was the only way to grow rich in the Far East.
Van der Lanthroon removed his hat and bowed deeply to the Governor.
"Mr. Van der Lanthroon," De Carpentier said without preamble, "I am appointing you Merchant aboard the Magdeburg."
The Magdeburg was classified as a "yacht"—though in truth, this type of vessel was neither particularly fast nor yacht-like in any conventional sense. It was a flat-bottomed ship commonly used by the Dutch in the East Indies, with a displacement of four to six hundred tons, a rounded stern, and a towering poop deck. Such ships sailed quite slowly and served primarily as cargo vessels and transports. But because they required short construction periods, carried substantial freight, and needed relatively few sailors, they met the practical needs of the "Sea Coachmen."
Though this was not a promotion to senior rank, the Magdeburg was a large vessel—far more significant than the two-masted boat Van der Lanthroon currently served on. The assignment brought a flush of pleasure to his face.
"Thank you, Your Excellency!"
"No need to thank me; thank our Masters." The Governor used the Company euphemism. "Begin preparations immediately after you join the ship. I want you ready to sail for Lingao at once to trade with the Australians."
"Lingao?" Van der Lanthroon had never heard of the place, though he had heard of the Australians.
"Yes. I will send someone to navigate for you. Your mission is to conduct trade with the Australians in Lingao and gather as much intelligence about them as possible. If circumstances permit, determine whether they are willing to reach a trade agreement with us."
"At your orders, Your Excellency."
"I will assign you several assistants. Keep them close after you arrive in Lingao and provide them every convenience."
One of those being sent aboard the Magdeburg was Gonzalez himself. The Governor hoped the officer would observe Lingao's military strength and the fortification status of the wharf with his own eyes. The second was Leibtrini, an Italian—a professional cartographer. His task was to map Lingao's port and surrounding terrain as accurately as possible. He was also to render what he saw into an illustrated album. In an era without cameras, this was the only way for people far away to form a visual impression.
(End of Chapter)