The covenant - James A. Michener [82]
He was greeted by the commander, a small, energetic man in his late thirties of such swarthy complexion that blond Dutchmen suspected him of Italian parentage. He wore a rather full mustache and dressed as fastidiously as frontier conditions would allow. He spoke in a voice higher than usual in a mature man, but with such speed and force that he gained attention and respect.
He was Jan van Riebeeck, ship's chirurgeon, who had served in most of the spice ports, winding up in Japan after abandoning medicine to become a merchant-trader, a skill he mastered so thoroughly that he was making profits for both the Compagnie and himself. For each hour he spent in the former's interests, he spent an equal time on his own, until his profits grew to such dimension that the Compagnie had to take notice. Accused of private trading, he was recalled to Batavia, where he was dealt with leniently and shipped back to Holland for discipline. Forced into premature retirement, he might well have finished his life in obscurity had not a peculiar circumstance thrust him back into the mainstream and an honored place in history.
When the Lords XVII decided to establish a recuperation spot at the Cape, they selected as their manager one of the men who had guarded the trade goods following the wreck of the Haerlem. He had been chosen because of his familiarity with the area, but when he declined, a wise old director said, 'Wait! What we really need is a merchant of proved ability.'
'Who?'
'Van Riebeeck.'
'Can we trust him?' several of the Lords asked.
'I believe he's a case of what we might call "belated rectitude," ' the old man said, and it was Jan van Riebeeck who got the assignment.
In effect, his instructions were simple: 'Establish a refreshment station which will feed our ships, but do so at no cost to this Compagnie!' That charter, in force for the next hundred and fifty years, would determine how this land would develop: it would always be a mercantile operation, never a free colony. The charter already accounted for what Willem was seeing on his brief walk to the fort with Van Riebeeck, but he had the good sense not to share his observations: This is much finer than Batavia, but where are the people? The land beyond those hills! It could house a million settlers, and I'll wager it's not even been explored.
'I often saw your brother Karel in Amsterdam,' Van Riebeeck said.
'How is he?'
'Married to a wonderful girl. Very wealthy.'
Willem, observing that the commander evaluated even marriage in terms of commerce, changed the subject. 'Will there soon be more people?' he asked.
Van Riebeeck stopped abruptly, then turned as if to settle once and for all this matter of population, and from the sharp manner in which he spoke, Willem suspected that he had made his speech before: 'You must understand one thing, Van Doorn.' Although only six years older than Willem he spoke patronizingly: 'This is a commercial holding, not a free state. We're here to aid the Compagnie, and we'll enlarge the colony only when it tells us to. As long as we allow you to stay ashore, you work for the Compagnie. You do what the Compagnie says.'
Within the next few hours Willem learned his lesson. He was ordered where to put his bag, where to make his bed, where to eat, and where to work. He found that a farmer could till a plot of land but never own it, and that whatever he grew must produce profit for the Compagnie. Of course, as an old Java hand he was not alarmed by these rules, but he did recall that in Batavia there had been a lusty