Batavia's Graveyard - Mike Dash [74]
In truth, however, Cornelisz soon tired of his exertions. He might adore the rigmarole of leadership, but he had no time for the responsibilities that it entailed. The work was hard, the detail bored him; and though he had enjoyed his welcome as a savior, he remained utterly self-centered. The fact was that the under-merchant did not care whether the people he was protecting lived or died. On Batavia, where his shipmates had stood in the way of his plans for mutiny, he had been willing to kill them all to seize the ship. On Batavia’s Graveyard, the same men had become mere mouths to feed, and he was still prepared to see them dead if he thought that it would benefit himself.
By the beginning of the latter half of June, moreover, Jeronimus’s inherent ruthlessness had been buttressed by a sobering discovery: rumors of his planned mutiny were circulating on the island. The man who had unveiled the plot was Ryckert Woutersz, one of Jacobsz’s recruits, who had taken considerable risks on the retourschip at the skipper’s behest, “sleeping for some days with a sword under his head” while he waited for the call to action. Outraged to discover that Ariaen had fled the archipelago without him, Woutersz determined to betray his master, “telling in public what They had intended to do, [and] complaining very much about the skipper.” For some reason the man’s initial allegations had been more or less ignored; perhaps the other survivors were too much racked by thirst to care about his stories, or they simply did not believe him. Now that the situation on the island had improved, however, fresh whispers had begun to sweep the camp. Jeronimus’s name, it seems, had not been mentioned; Woutersz may not even have known of the under-merchant’s involvement. But Cornelisz guessed that it might yet emerge. It was not the sort of matter he could afford to ignore.
Alone in his tent, Cornelisz took stock of his position with cold-eyed detachment. To begin with, he had to assume that Pelsaert and the skipper were by now on their way to the Dutch settlements on Java. Ariaen, he hoped, might yet find some opportunity to murder the commandeur, tip his body overboard, and change course to some other European port—possibly Portuguese Malacca. In that case the Batavia survivors would perhaps be rescued by foreigners and the revelation of the mutiny would cease to matter.
Nevertheless, as Jeronimus knew, there was every chance that Jacobsz and Jan Evertsz would get no opportunity to dispose of Pelsaert. In that case, much would depend on the skipper’s skill. The chances of an open, overloaded boat completing such a lengthy ocean voyage were poor, but Ariaen was a first-rate seaman and it was at least possible that he would reach the Indies. If he did, the Company would certainly dispatch a rescue ship, most probably a jacht, to recover its money chests and pick up any survivors. Provided that Jeronimus could stay alive long enough for the jacht to reach them—perhaps another month or two—he might yet find himself stepping ashore in Java.
In most circumstances, that too would be a welcome outcome, but Ryckert Woutersz’s allegations were a problem. Jeronimus was, he knew, immune to normal criticism in the Abrolhos; the Batavia’s men had no wish to risk angering the leader of the council by taking issue with him. But his power was not absolute, and while the other members of the council could band together to outvote him, any suggestion that he had planned to mutiny would be catastrophic. Such a thing could not be laughed off or forgotten, and if there ever was a full investigation of the matter, Cornelisz’s actions on the retourschip might prove to be his death sentence. The Dutch authorities would be bound to take