It is difficult, five hundred years after the event, to describe in words the precise quality of thought available to the men who made this decision to abandon Zimbabwe, but because the act was so crucial in the history of southern Africa, an attempt must be made without inflating or denigrating reality. The king was no Charlemagne; he was unaware of libraries and monetary systems, yet he had an uncanny sense of how to keep a sprawling empire functional, and if he knew nothing about armies or military policy, it was only because he kept his nation at peace during a long reign. He spoke only one language, which had never been written, and he had no court painter to depict his likeness for foreign princes, yet he knew how to keep Zimbabwe beautiful; the additions he made to both the lower city and the citadel were commendable. He was a ruler.
The Mhondoro was certainly no Thomas Aquinas speculating upon the nature of G.o.d and man; indeed, he was sometimes little more than a shaman propitiating dubious spirits that might otherwise destroy the city. But if he lacked a comprehensive theology like Christianity or Islam with which to console his people, he did have remarkable skill in banishing their grosser fears, controlling their wilder pa.s.sions, and lending them the a.s.surances they needed to keep working. He was a priest.
The condition of Nxumalo was more puzzling. Offspring of a minimal society, child of a family with extremely limited horizons, he had been allowed adventures which lured him always toward larger concepts. He was one of those wonderful realists who can add a tentative two to a problematic three and come up with a solid five. He saw Zimbabwe exactly as it was, a city fighting for its life in a rapidly changing world, but he also saw in his imagination the cities of India and China, and he guessed that they were struggling too. He realized that if there existed something as magnificent as an ocean, there could be no reasonable limit to the wonders its sh.o.r.es might contain. He could not read or write; he could not express himself in scholastic phrases; he knew nothing of Giotto, who was dead, or Botticelli, who was living, but from the first moment he saw those carved birds adorning the citadel he knew they were art and never some accidental thing from the marketplace. He was a pragmatist.
Any one of these three, or all as a group, could have learned to function in any society then existing, given time and proper instruction. The king certainly was as able as the Aztec rulers of Mexico or the Incas of Peru and markedly superior to the confused brothers of Prince Henry, who ruled Portugal abominably; had the Mhondoro been a cardinal at Rome, he would have known how to protect himself at the Vatican as it then operated; and if Nxumalo with his insatiable curiosity had ever had a chance to captain a ship, he would have outdistanced Prince Henry"s reluctant navigators. These three might be called savages, but they should never be called uncivilized.
Yet this is precisely what Henry the Navigator did call them as he lay dying in his lonely monastery on the forlorn headland of Europe. He sat propped in bed, surrounded by a lifetime of books and doc.u.ments, striving to devise some stratagem that would speed his captains in their attempt to turn the southern tip of Africa and "discover and civilize" places like Sofala and Kilwa. It required an arrogant mind to consider these great entrepots "undiscovered" merely because no white Christian had yet traveled up the eastern coast of Africa, whereas thousands upon thousands of dark Arabs had traveled down it, and had been doing so for a thousand years.
These were the closing weeks of 1460, while Zimbabwe still functioned as the capital of a vast but loosely ruled hegemony, with its royal compounds decorated by celadons from China, but Prince Henry could say to his a.s.sembled captains, "Our mighty task is to bring civilization to the dark sh.o.r.es of Africa." He added, "That the gold mines of Ophir should be occupied by savage blacks is repugnant, but that their gold should fall into the hands of those who worship Muhammad is intolerable."
So in the final days of his life, while Nxumalo and his king wrestled with sophisticated problems of management, Prince Henry challenged his captains to round Africa. Two generations of these men would die before anyone breasted the cape, but Henry approached death convinced that the discovery of Ophir was close at hand. "My books a.s.sure me," he told his sailors, "that Ophir was built by those Phoenicians who later built Carthage. It is very ancient, long before the days of Solomon." He took real consolation in this belief, and when a captain said, "I have been told it was built by Egyptians," he snorted, "Never! Perhaps Old Testament Jews drifting down from Elath, or maybe powerful builders from Sidon or Arabia." Not in his worst fever could he imagine that blacks had built an Ophir, and worked its mines and shipped its gold to all parts of Asia.
And even had he survived long enough to see one of his captains reach Sofala, and if that man had sent an expedition inland to Zimbabwe, and if he had reported upon the city, its towers gleaming in the sun, its carved birds silent upon their parapetsand all managed by blackshe might have refused to accept the facts, for in his thinking, blacks capable of running a nation did not exist.
There were dark-skinned Muslims who threatened the Christian world, and yellow Chinese of whom Marco Polo had written so engagingly, and soft-brown Javanese who traded with all, but there were no blacks other than the unspeakable savages his captains had met on the western coast of Africa.
"The only people with whom we contend," he told his captains, "are the Muslims who endanger our world. So you must speed south, and turn the headland which I know is there, and then sail north toward the lands our Saviour knew. We shall confront the infidel and win a world for Christ, and your soldiers shall enjoy the gold of Ophir."
Prince Henry was sixty-six years old that November, a worn-out man and one of the supreme contradictions in history. He had sailed practically nowhere, but had provided a fortune to his captains, threatening to bankrupt his brother"s kingdom, in his rugged belief that the entire world could be navigated, that Ophir lay where the Bible intimated, and that if only he could get his ships to India and China, his priests could Christianize the world.
Henry of Portugal was an explorer sans egal, sans egal, for he was goaded onward solely by what he read in books, and from them he deduced all his great perceptions. How sad that his captains, in his lifetime, did not indeed reach Sofala, so that he could have read their reports of a thriving Zimbabwe. Had he seen proof of this black civilization, it might have shaken his preconceptions, for he was, above all, a man of probity. And if the few remaining stragglers in the area had accepted Christianity, he would have found a respectable place for them in his cosmogony. But his people had neither reached Zimbabwe nor envisioned its existence. for he was goaded onward solely by what he read in books, and from them he deduced all his great perceptions. How sad that his captains, in his lifetime, did not indeed reach Sofala, so that he could have read their reports of a thriving Zimbabwe. Had he seen proof of this black civilization, it might have shaken his preconceptions, for he was, above all, a man of probity. And if the few remaining stragglers in the area had accepted Christianity, he would have found a respectable place for them in his cosmogony. But his people had neither reached Zimbabwe nor envisioned its existence.
Even sadder was the fact that after Vasco da Gama did finally reach Sofala in 1498, the Portuguese considered such ports merely as targets for looting, gateways to vaster riches inland. By 1512, fifty-two years after Prince Henry"s death, Portuguese traders were beginning a brisk business with the chiefdoms that had grown up in the shadow of Great Zimbabwe, and one priest composed a long report of his dealings with a representative from one settlement who had come down to Sofala leading sixty blacks bearing cargoes of gold and ivory and copper, just as the Bible had predicted: His name, Nxumalo, third chief of a city I was not privileged to see but on which I interrogated him closely. He was very old, very black, with hair of purest white. He talked like a young man and wore no adornment or badge of office except an iron staff topped by feathers. He seemed able to speak many languages and talked eagerly with all, but when I asked him if his city was the ancient Ophir, he smiled evasively. I knew he was trying to mislead me, so I persisted, and he said through our Arab interpreter, "Others have asked me that." Nothing more, so I pressed him, and he said, "Our city had towers, but they were of stone." I told him he was lying, that our Bible avers that Ophir was made of gold, and he took me by the arm and said quietly, in perfect Portuguese, which startled me, "We had gold too, but it came from mines far from the city, and it was difficult to obtain, and now the mines have run dry." I noticed that he had all his teeth.
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There was no close parallel to the miraculous thing that happened at the cape called Good Hope. In 1488 Captain Bartholomeu Dias in a Portuguese caravel rounded this cape, which he considered to be the southernmost point of Africa, and he proposed going all the way to India, but like other captains before and after, he found his crew afraid and was forced by their near-mutiny to turn back. was no close parallel to the miraculous thing that happened at the cape called Good Hope. In 1488 Captain Bartholomeu Dias in a Portuguese caravel rounded this cape, which he considered to be the southernmost point of Africa, and he proposed going all the way to India, but like other captains before and after, he found his crew afraid and was forced by their near-mutiny to turn back.
In 1497 Captain Vasco da Gama landed near the cape, remaining eight days and establishing contact with large numbers of small brown people who spoke with clicks.
In the ensuing century the Portuguese penetrated to the far reaches of the Indian Ocean: Sofala of the gold dust, Kilwa the splendid entrepot, Aden and its shrouded figures, Hormuz with the metaled jewelry of Persia, Calicut offering the silks of India, and Trincomalee with the rare cinnamon of Ceylon. It was a world of wonder and riches which the Portuguese dominated in all respects, shipping its spices back to Europe to be sold at enormous profit and leaving at the outposts priests to Christianize and functionaries to rule.
As early as 1511 one of the greatest Portuguese adventurers, Afonso de Albuquerque, ventured out of the Indian Ocean, establishing at Malacca a great fort that would serve as the keystone to Portuguese holdings. Whoever controlled Malacca had access to those magical islands that lay east of Java like a chain of jewels; these were the fabled Spice Islands, and their riches lay in fee to Portugal.
During the entire sixteenth century this small seafaring nation transported untold wealth from the area, making irrelevant the fact that Muslims controlled Constantinople. Profit was now made not from tedious overland camel routes but from seaborne traffic. However, it was not this explosive wealth which led to the miracle.
In the opening years of the seventeenth century two other very small European nations decided to seize by force their share of the Portuguese monopoly. In 1600 England chartered its East India Company, known in history as John Company, which quickly gained a solid foothold in India. Two years later the Dutch launched their counterpart, Vereenigde Oostin-dische Compagnie (United East India Company), to be known as Jan Compagnie, which operated with stubborn troops and very stubborn traders.
The eastern seas became a vast battleground, with every Catholic priest a forward agent of Portugal, every Protestant predikant a defender of Dutch interests. Nor was it merely a commercial-religious rivalry; real warfare was involved. Three hideous times1604, 1607, 1608mammoth Dutch fleets strove to capture the dominating Portuguese fortress on Mozambique Island, and the sieges should have ended in easy victory, because the island was small, 3,200 yards long, 320 yards wide, and defended by as few as sixty Portuguese soldiers against whom the Dutch could land nearly two thousand.
But the defenders were Portuguese, some of the toughest human beings on earth. Once when there was little hope that the few could resist the many, the Portuguese mounted a sortie, swept out of their fortress walls and slew the attackers. The Portuguese commander taunted: "The company defending this fort is a cat that cannot be handled without gloves." During one of the sieges, when all seemed lost, the Portuguese proposed that the affair be settled by fifty Dutch soldiers fighting a pitched battle against twenty-five Portuguese, "a balance honoring the character of the contesting armies."
The Dutch tried fire, trenching, towers, secret a.s.saults and overpowering numbers, but never did they penetrate those fortress walls. How different the history of South Africa might have been had the Portuguese defenders been one shade less valiant. If in 1605 the sixty had surrendered to the two thousand, by 1985 the strategic ports of Mozambique would probably rest in the hands of the descendants of the Dutch; all lands south of the Zambezi River could have been under their rule, and in the ensuing history South Africa would have been the focus, not Java. But never could the Dutch mount that final push which would have carried them to great victory in Africa.
In these years, when a Portuguese soldier disembarked from one of his nation"s ships to take up duty within a fort at Mozambique or at Malacca, on the straits near Java, he could expect during his tour of duty three sieges in which he would eat gra.s.s and drink urine. Some of the most courageous resistances in world history were contributed by these Portuguese defenders.
One salient fact differentiated the colonizing efforts of the three European nations: the manner in which the effort related to the central government. The Portuguese operation was a confused amalgam of patriotism, Catholicism and profit; the government at Lisbon decided what should be done, the church ruled the minds of those who did it. When the English chartered their East India Company they intended it to be free of governmental interference, but quickly saw that this was impossible, because unless John Company behaved in a generally moral way, the good name of the nation was impugned; thus there was constant vacillation between commercial freedom and moral control. The Dutch had no such scruples. Their charter was handed to businessmen whose stated purpose was the making of profit on their investment, preferably forty percent a year, and neither the government nor the church had the right to intrude on their conduct. Any predikant who sailed in a ship belonging to Jan Compagnie was promptly informed that the Compagnie would determine what his religious duties were and how they would be discharged.
It was soon apparent that three such radically different approaches would have to collide, and soon the English were battling the Dutch for control of Java, while the Dutch stabbed at Portugal for control of Malacca, and all three fought Spain for control of the Spice Islands. Yet ships of these battling nations constantly pa.s.sed the Cape of Good Hope, often resting there for weeks at a time, with little effective effort to occupy this crucial spot or arm it as a base from which to raid enemy commerce. It is inconceivable that these maritime nations should have rounded the Cape on their way to war and pa.s.sed it again on their return without ever halting to establish a base. It is even more difficult to believe that hundreds of merchant ships bearing millions of guilders" and cruzados" worth of spices should have been allowed to navigate these difficult waters without confrontation of some kind. But that was the case. In two hundred years of the most concentrated commercial rivalry in Asia and war in Europe, there was only one instance in which a ship was sunk at the Cape by enemy action.
The explanation, as in the case of many an apparent inconsistency, rested in geography. A Portuguese ship setting out from Lisbon made a long run southwest to the Cape Verde Islands, replenished there and sailed almost to the coast of Brazil before steering southeast to round the Cape for the welcoming anchorage at Mozambique Island, from which it headed east to Goa and Malacca. Dutch and English ships also pa.s.sed the Cape Verdes, but realizing that the Portuguese would not welcome them, continued south to the crucial island of St. Helena, which they jointly commanded, and once they cleared that haven, it was a brisk run to India. From there the English could head for entrepots in the Spice Islands while the Dutch could anchor at their tenuous foothold in Java. There was really no reason why anyone need interrupt his journey at the Cape.
So from 1488, when Dias "discovered" it, to 1652a period of one hundred and sixty-four years climactic in world historythis marvelous headland, dominating the trade routes and capable of supplying all the fresh food and water required by shipping, lay neglected. Any seafaring nation in the world could have claimed it; none did, because it was not seen as vital to their purposes.
Although it was unclaimed, it was not untouched. In this empty period one hundred and fifty-three known expeditions actually landed at the Cape, and since many consisted of multiple ships, sometimes ten or twelve, it can be said with certainty that on the average at least one major ship a year stopped, often staying for extended periods. In 1580 Sir Francis Drake, heading home at the end of his circ.u.mnavigation with a fortune in cloves, caused to be written in his log: From Java we sailed for the Cape of Good Hope. We ranne hard aboard the Cape, finding the report of the Portugals to be most false, who affirme that it is the most dangerous Cape of the world, never without intolerable storms and present dangers to travallers, which come neare the same. This Cape is a most stately thing, and the fairest we saw in the whole circ.u.mference of the earth.
In 1601 when Sir James Lancaster arrived with a small fleetan appalling two hundred and nine days out of Londonone hundred and five men were dead of scurvy, with the rest too weak to man the sails. There was one exception; in General Lancaster"s own ship the men were in good shape: And the reason why the Generals men stood better in health than the men of other ships was this; he brought to sea with him certaine bottles of the Juice of Limons, which hee gave to each one, as long as it would last, three spoonfuls every day . . .
Lancaster kept his men ash.o.r.e forty-six days, plus five more at anchor in the roads, and during this time he was astonished at the level of society he encountered among the little brown men who occupied the land: We bought of them a thousand Sheepe and two and fortie Oxen; and might have bought more if we would. These Oxen are full as bigge as ours and the sheepe many of them much bigger, fat and sweet and (to our thinking) much better than our sheepe in England . . . Their speech they clocke with their tongues in such sort, that in seven weeks which wee remained heere in this place, the sharpest wit among us could not learne one word of their language; and yet the people would soone understand any signe wee made to them . . . While that wee stayed heere in this baye we had so royall refreshing that all our men recovered their health and strength, onely foure or five excepted.
Year after year the ships stopped by, the sailors lived ash.o.r.e, and the clerks wrote accounts of what transpired, so that there exists a rather better record of the unoccupied Cape than of other areas that were settled by unlettered troops. The character of the little brown people with their clicking tongue is especially well laid out"they speak from the throat and seem to sob and sigh"so that scholars throughout Europe had ample knowledge of the Cape long before substantial interest was shown by their governments. Indeed, one enterprising London editor compiled a four-volume book dealing largely with travels past the Cape, Purchas his Pilgrimes, Purchas his Pilgrimes, and entered unknowingly into literary history as the princ.i.p.al source for and entered unknowingly into literary history as the princ.i.p.al source for The Rime of the Ancient Mariner. The Rime of the Ancient Mariner.
Two engaging traditions endeared the Cape to sailors. It became the custom that whenever the navigator sensed that he was nearing the Cape, he would alert the crew, whereupon all ordinary seamen would strain to see who could first cry out: "Table Mountain!" After his sighting was verified, the captain ceremoniously handed him a silver coin, and all hands, officers and men alike, stood at the railing to see once more this extraordinary mountain.
It was not a peak; as if some giant carpenter had planed it down, its top seemed as flat as a palace floor, and not a small floor, either, but a vast one. Its sides were steep and it possessed a peculiarity that never ceased to amaze: at frequent intervals, on a cloudless day when the tabletop showed clear, a sudden wind sweeping north from the Antarctic would throw a cloud of dense fog, and even as one watched, this fog would spread out, obliterating Table Mountain. "The devil throwing his tablecloth," men would say later, and the mountain would be hidden, with the hem of the cloth tumbling down the sides.
The second tradition was that of the post-office stone. As early as 1501 the captain of a Portuguese vessel pa.s.sing the Cape came ash.o.r.e with a letter of instructions to aid future travelers, and after wrapping it in pitched canvas, he placed it under a prominent rock on whose surface he scratched a notice that something of importance lay beneath. Thus the tradition started, and in all succeeding years captains would stop at the Cape, search for post-office stones, pick up letters which might have been left a decade earlier, and deliver them either to Europe or to Java. In 1615 Captain Walter Peyton, in the Expedition Expedition at the head of a small fleet, found post-office stones with letters deposited by different ships: at the head of a small fleet, found post-office stones with letters deposited by different ships: James, Globe, Advice, Attendant. James, Globe, Advice, Attendant. Each told of dangers pa.s.sed, of hopes ahead. Each told of dangers pa.s.sed, of hopes ahead.
There are few reports of letters ever having been destroyed by enemies. A ship would plow through the Indian Ocean for a year, fighting at port after port, but when it pa.s.sed the Cape and posted its letters beneath some rock, they became inviolate, and the very soldiers who had fought this ship would, if they landed for refreshing, lift those letters reverently and carry them toward their destination, often dispatching them on a route that would take them through two or three intervening countries.
What was the miracle of the Cape? That no seafaring nation wanted it.
On New Year"s Day 1637 a grizzled mariner of Plymouth, England, reached a major decision. Captain Nicholas Saltwood, aged forty-four and a veteran of the northern seas, told his wife, "Henrietta, I"ve decided to risk our savings and buy the Acorn. Acorn." Forthwith he led her to The Hoe, the town"s waterfront, and resting there in the exact spot occupied by Sir Francis Drake"s ship in July of 1588, when he waited for the Spanish Armada to come up the Channel, stood a small two-masted ship of one hundred and eighty-three tons.
"It will be dangerous," he confided. "Four years absent in the Spice Islands and G.o.d knows where. But if we don"t venture now . . ."
"If you buy the ship, how will you acquire your trade goods?"
"On our character," Saltwood said, and once the Acorn Acorn was his, he and his wife circulated among the merchants of Plymouth, offering them shares in his bold adventure. From them he wanted no money, only the goods on which he proposed to make his fortune and theirs. On February 3, the day he had hoped to sail, he had a ship well laden. was his, he and his wife circulated among the merchants of Plymouth, offering them shares in his bold adventure. From them he wanted no money, only the goods on which he proposed to make his fortune and theirs. On February 3, the day he had hoped to sail, he had a ship well laden.
"And if the sheriff abides his word," he told his wife, "we"ll take even more," and they went together to the ironmonger"s, and as before, their surety was their appearance and their reputation. They were st.u.r.dy people and honest: "Matthew, I want your lad to keep watch on my foremast. If I raise a blue flag, rush me these nineteen boxes. I"ll pay silver for seven. You contribute the dozen, and if the voyage fails, you"ve lost all. But it will not fail."
At the door of the mongery he kissed his wife farewell: "It would not be proper for you to deal with the sheriff. I believe he"ll come. You watch for the blue flag, too." And he was gone.
Three bells had sounded when a cart from Plymouth prison hove into sight, bearing ten manacled men guarded by four marching soldiers and a very stout sheriff, who, when he reached the wharf, called out, "Captain Saltwood, be you prepared?"
When Saltwood came to the railing the sheriff produced a legal paper, which he pa.s.sed along for one of his soldiers to read, since he could not: "Ship Acorn, Acorn, Captain Saltwood. Do you agree to carry these men condemned to death to some proper spot in the southern seas where they are to be thrown ash.o.r.e to establish a colony to the honor of King Charles of England?" Captain Saltwood. Do you agree to carry these men condemned to death to some proper spot in the southern seas where they are to be thrown ash.o.r.e to establish a colony to the honor of King Charles of England?"
"I do," Saltwood replied. "And now may I ask you, has the pa.s.sage money been voted?"
"It has," the fat sheriff said, and as he stepped aboard the Acorn Acorn he counted out the five pieces of silver for each of the condemned men. "Now the delivery. Captain Saltwood, I want you to appreciate the rogues you"re getting." And as the manacled prisoners came awkwardly aboard, chains dangling, the soldier read out their crimes: "He stole a horse. A cutpurse. He committed murder, twice. He robbed a church. He ate another man"s apples. He stole a cloak . . ." Each man had been sentenced to death, but at the solicitation of Captain Saltwood, who needed their pa.s.sage money, execution had been stayed. he counted out the five pieces of silver for each of the condemned men. "Now the delivery. Captain Saltwood, I want you to appreciate the rogues you"re getting." And as the manacled prisoners came awkwardly aboard, chains dangling, the soldier read out their crimes: "He stole a horse. A cutpurse. He committed murder, twice. He robbed a church. He ate another man"s apples. He stole a cloak . . ." Each man had been sentenced to death, but at the solicitation of Captain Saltwood, who needed their pa.s.sage money, execution had been stayed.
"Have you granted them equipment to found their colony?" Saltwood asked.
"Throw them ash.o.r.e," the sheriff said. "If they survive, it"s to the honor of the king. If they perish, what"s lost?" With that the four soldiers climbed into the cart and pulled the wheezing sheriff in behind them.
"Run up the blue pennant," Saltwood told his mate, and when it fluttered in the breeze the ironmonger hurried down to the ship with his nineteen crates of tools badly needed in the distant islands.
As soon as the Acorn Acorn stood out from harbor, Saltwood ordered his carpenter to strike off the manacles, and when the convicts were freed he a.s.sembled them before the mast: "During this trip I hold the power of life and death. If you work, you eat and are a.s.sured of justice. If you plot against this ship, you feed the sharks." But as he was about to dismiss the unfortunates, he realized that they must be bewildered by what might happen to them, and he said rea.s.suringly, "If you conduct yourselves well, I shall seek the most clement coast in all the seas. And when the moment comes to disembark, I shall provide you with such equipment for survival as we can spare." stood out from harbor, Saltwood ordered his carpenter to strike off the manacles, and when the convicts were freed he a.s.sembled them before the mast: "During this trip I hold the power of life and death. If you work, you eat and are a.s.sured of justice. If you plot against this ship, you feed the sharks." But as he was about to dismiss the unfortunates, he realized that they must be bewildered by what might happen to them, and he said rea.s.suringly, "If you conduct yourselves well, I shall seek the most clement coast in all the seas. And when the moment comes to disembark, I shall provide you with such equipment for survival as we can spare."
"Where?" one of the men asked.
"Only G.o.d knows," Saltwood said, and for the next ninety days the Acorn Acorn sailed slowly southward through seas it had never traversed before, and the heavens showed stars which none had ever seen. The prisoners worked and partook of such food as the regular crew received, but always Saltwood kept his pistols ready, his defenses against mutiny prepared. sailed slowly southward through seas it had never traversed before, and the heavens showed stars which none had ever seen. The prisoners worked and partook of such food as the regular crew received, but always Saltwood kept his pistols ready, his defenses against mutiny prepared.
On the ninety-first day out, the Acorn Acorn sighted St. Helena, where the condemned men prayed to be set ash.o.r.e, but a congenial port like this was not the intended destination, so the convicts were kept under close guard while the ship was provisioned, and after four restful days the sighted St. Helena, where the condemned men prayed to be set ash.o.r.e, but a congenial port like this was not the intended destination, so the convicts were kept under close guard while the ship was provisioned, and after four restful days the Acorn Acorn headed south. headed south.
On May 23, in rough weather, the little ship, barely visible against the ma.s.siveness of Africa, stood off the sandy beach north of Table Mountain, for it was here that Captain Saltwood proposed to cast his convicts ash.o.r.e. But before he did so, he gave them a selection of implements from one of the crates of tools, and his men contributed food and spare clothes for the apprehensive settlers.
"Be of good cheer," Saltwood advised the convicts. "Select one of your group to serve as leader, that you may subdue the land quickly."
"Won"t you sail closer to the sh.o.r.e?" one of the men asked.
"This coast looks dangerous," Saltwood said, "but you shall have this little boat."
As the convicts climbed down into the frail craft he called, "Establish a good colony so that your children may prosper under the English flag."
"Where will we find women?" the impertinent murderer called.
"Men always find women," Captain Saltwood cried, and he watched as the criminals manned the oars and rowed ineffectively toward the sh.o.r.e. When a tall wave came, they could not negotiate it; the boat capsized and all were drowned. Captain Saltwood shook his head: "They had their chance." And he watched with real regret as his boat shattered on the inhospitable beach.
But this voyage of the Acorn Acorn was not remembered for its loss of the ten convicts, because such accidents were commonplace and barely reported in London. When the stormy seas subsided, men from the ship went ash.o.r.e at the Cape proper, and one of the first things they did was check the area for post-office stones; they found five, each with its parcel of letters, some intended for Amsterdam, some for Java. The former were rewrapped in canvas and put back under one stone; the latter were taken aboard for delivery in the far Far East. Under a special stone engraved with the was not remembered for its loss of the ten convicts, because such accidents were commonplace and barely reported in London. When the stormy seas subsided, men from the ship went ash.o.r.e at the Cape proper, and one of the first things they did was check the area for post-office stones; they found five, each with its parcel of letters, some intended for Amsterdam, some for Java. The former were rewrapped in canvas and put back under one stone; the latter were taken aboard for delivery in the far Far East. Under a special stone engraved with the Acorn Acorn"s name, the mate deposited a letter to London detailing the successful pa.s.sage via St. Helena but ignoring the loss of the ten prisoners.
The sh.o.r.e party was about to embark for the long trip to Java when a group of seven little brown men appeared from the east, led by a vivacious young man in his twenties. He offered to trade sheep, which he indicated by cleverly imitating those animals, if the sailors would provide him with lengths of iron and bra.s.s, which again he indicated so that even the dullest sailor could catch his meaning.
They asked him his name, and he tried to say Horda, but since this required three click sounds they could make nothing of it, and the mate said, "Jack! That"s a good name!" And it was under this name that he was taken aboard the Acorn Acorn and introduced to Captain Saltwood, who said, "We need men to replace the convicts. Show him to a bunk for"ard." and introduced to Captain Saltwood, who said, "We need men to replace the convicts. Show him to a bunk for"ard."
He was naked except for a loincloth made of jackal skin, and a small pouch tied about his waist; in it he carried a few precious items, including an ivory bracelet and a crude stone knife. What amazed the sailors were the click sounds he made when talking. "G.o.d"s word," one sailor reported to another, "he farts through his teeth."
Within a week of watching the sailmaker ply his awls and needles, Jack had fashioned himself a pair of trousers, which he wore during the remainder of the long voyage. He also made a pair of sandals, a hat and a loose-fitting shirt, and it was in this garb that he stood by the railing of the Acorn Acorn when Captain Saltwood led his little ship gingerly into the Portuguese harbor at Sofala. when Captain Saltwood led his little ship gingerly into the Portuguese harbor at Sofala.
"You were daring to enter here," a Portuguese merchant said. "Had you been Dutch, we would have sunk you."
"I come to trade for the gold of Ophir," Saltwood said, whereupon the Portuguese burst into disrespectful laughter.
"Everyone comes for that. There is none. I don"t believe there ever was."
"What do you trade?"
"Where do you head?"
"Malacca. The Spice Islands."
"Oh, now!" the trader said. "We accept you here, but anyone who tries to enter the Spice Island trade .. . they"ll burn your ship at Malacca." Then he snapped his fingers. "But if you"re brave, and really want to trade, I have something most precious that the Chinese long for."
"Bring it forth," Saltwood said, and with obvious pride the Portuguese produced fourteen curious, dark, pyramidal objects about nine inches square on the base. "What can they be?"
"Rhinoceros horn."
"Yes! Yes!" In the pages of his ship"s log, on which he had prepared his notes for this great adventure, he had noted that rhinoceros horn might profitably be carried to any ports where Chinese came. "Where would I trade them?" he asked.
"Java. The Chinese frequent Java."
So a bargain was struck, after which the Portuguese said, "A warning. The horns must be delivered as they are. Not powdered, for the old men who yearn to marry young girls must see that the horn is real, or it won"t work."
"Does it really work?" Saltwood asked. "I don"t need it yet," the Portuguese said.
Wherever the Acorn Acorn anch.o.r.ed, Jack studied the habits of the people, marveling at their variety and how markedly they differed from the English sailors with whom he was now familiar and whose language he spoke effectively. At stately Kilwa he noticed the blackness of the natives" skins; at Calicut he saw men halfway in darkness between himself and his shipmates; at resplendent Goa, where all ships stopped, he marveled at the temples. anch.o.r.ed, Jack studied the habits of the people, marveling at their variety and how markedly they differed from the English sailors with whom he was now familiar and whose language he spoke effectively. At stately Kilwa he noticed the blackness of the natives" skins; at Calicut he saw men halfway in darkness between himself and his shipmates; at resplendent Goa, where all ships stopped, he marveled at the temples.
He gained great respect for Captain Saltwood, who not only owned the Acorn Acorn but ran it with sagacity and daring. For one dreamy day after another the little vessel would drift through softly heaving seas, then head purposefully for some harbor none of the crew had heard of before, and there Saltwood would move quietly ash.o.r.e, and talk and listen, and after a day of cautious judgment would signal to his men, and they would bring to the marketplace their bales of goods, unwrapping them delicately to impress the buyers. And always at the end of the trading, Saltwood would have some new product to fill his holds. but ran it with sagacity and daring. For one dreamy day after another the little vessel would drift through softly heaving seas, then head purposefully for some harbor none of the crew had heard of before, and there Saltwood would move quietly ash.o.r.e, and talk and listen, and after a day of cautious judgment would signal to his men, and they would bring to the marketplace their bales of goods, unwrapping them delicately to impress the buyers. And always at the end of the trading, Saltwood would have some new product to fill his holds.
Like all the little brown people, Jack loved to sing, and in the evening when the sailors idled their time in chantey, his soft clear voice, echoing like some pure bell, joined in. They liked this; they taught him their favorite songs; and often they called for him to sing alone, and he would stand as they lolled, a little fellow four feet ten, his slanted eyes squeezed shut, his face a vast smile as he chanted songs composed in Plymouth or Bristol. Then he felt himself to be a member of the crew.
But there was another tradition, and this one he disliked. From time to time the English sailors would cry, "Take down your pants!" and when he refused, they would untie the cord that held up the trousers he had sewn and pull them down, and they would gather round in astonishment, for he had only one t.e.s.t.i.c.l.e. When they questioned him about this, he explained, "Too many people. Too few food."
"What"s that got to do with your missing stone?" a Plymouth man asked.
"Every boy baby, they cut one off."
"What"s that got to do with food?" The Plymouth man gagged. "My G.o.d, you don"t . . . "
"So when we grow up, find a wife, we must never have twins."
Again and again when the voyage grew dull the sailors cried, "Jack, take down your pants!" and one sultry afternoon in the Indian Ocean they brought down Captain Saltwood. "You"ll be astonished!" they said admiringly as they sought the little fellow, but when they found him and stood him on a barrel and cried, "Jack, down with your pants!" he refused, grabbing himself about the middle to protect the cord that tied his trousers.
"Jack!" the men cried with some irritation. "Captain Saltwood wants to see."
But Jack had had enough. Stubbornly, his little face showing clenched teeth, he refused to lower his pants, and when two burly sailors came at him he fought them off, shouting, "You not drop your pants!" And there he stood on the barrel, resisting, until Saltwood said quietly, "He"s right, men. Let him be."
And from that day he never again dropped his drawers, and his self-stubbornness had an unforeseen aftermath: he had been the sailors" toy, now he became their friend.
The part of the journey he liked best came when the Acorn Acorn slipped past the great Portuguese fort at Malacca and wandered far to the east among the islands of the spice trade; there he saw for the first time cloth woven with gold and the metalwork of the islands. It was a world whose riches he could not evaluate but whose worth he had to acknowledge because of the respectful manner in which his friends handled these treasures. slipped past the great Portuguese fort at Malacca and wandered far to the east among the islands of the spice trade; there he saw for the first time cloth woven with gold and the metalwork of the islands. It was a world whose riches he could not evaluate but whose worth he had to acknowledge because of the respectful manner in which his friends handled these treasures.
"Pepper! That"s what brings money," the sailors told him, and when they crushed the small black corns to release the aromatic smell, he sneezed and was enchanted.
"Nutmeg, mace, cinnamon!" the sailors repeated as the heavy bags were heaved aboard. "Turmeric, cardamom, ca.s.sia!" they continued, but it was the cloves that captivated him, and even though guards were posted over this precious stuff, he succeeded in stealing a few to crack between his teeth and keep against the bottom of his tongue, where they burned, emitting a pleasant aroma. For some days he moved about the ship blowing his cloved breath on the sailors until they started calling him Smelly Jack.
How magnificent the East was! When the Acorn Acorn completed its barter, Captain Saltwood issued the welcome command: "We head for Java and the Chinese who await our horns." And for many days the little ship sailed along the coast of Java with sailors at the rail to marvel at this dream-swept island where mountains rose to touch the clouds and jungle crept down to dip its fingers in the sea. completed its barter, Captain Saltwood issued the welcome command: "We head for Java and the Chinese who await our horns." And for many days the little ship sailed along the coast of Java with sailors at the rail to marvel at this dream-swept island where mountains rose to touch the clouds and jungle crept down to dip its fingers in the sea.
Captain Saltwood found no time to enjoy these sights, for he was preoccupied with two serious problems: he had traded so masterfully that his ship now contained a fortune of real magnitude and must be protected from pirates; but the fortune could not be realized unless he got his ship safely past the fort at Malacca, across the seas, around the Cape of Good Hope, through the storms of the equator, and home to Plymouth. It was with these apprehensions that he anch.o.r.ed in the roadstead off Java and was rowed ash.o.r.e to bargain with the Chinese merchants who might want his rhinoceros horns.
While the Acorn Acorn lay at anchor, waiting until the next fleet formed for the journey to Europe, Jack had an opportunity to explore the trading center that the Dutch had established on Java. He lounged by the waterside, learning to identify the varied craft that worked these Asian waters: car-racks with their bristling guns, swift flutes from Holland, the amazing proas from the islandsby shifting the location of their mast, they could sail in either direction with equal speedand best of all, the towering East India-men. lay at anchor, waiting until the next fleet formed for the journey to Europe, Jack had an opportunity to explore the trading center that the Dutch had established on Java. He lounged by the waterside, learning to identify the varied craft that worked these Asian waters: car-racks with their bristling guns, swift flutes from Holland, the amazing proas from the islandsby shifting the location of their mast, they could sail in either direction with equal speedand best of all, the towering East India-men.
It was while watching one of these monsters unload that he became aware of a tall, thin Dutchman who seemed always to preempt the best cargo for his warehouse, which stood close to the harbor. Traders called him Mijnheer van Doorn, and he seemed a most austere person, overly conscious of his position, even though he could not have been more than twenty-three. Jack was awed by his stiff dignity and spoke to him in broken English, which Van Doorn as a trader had to know.
"Where you from?" the Dutchman asked, looking down as if from a great and sovereign height.
"Many days."