by Giles Milton
The Englishmen tried again and again to extinguish the flames but the fire had by now taken hold and the smoke was so thick that they were continually forced back outside. The situation was desperate for there was more than a thousand pounds of gold stored in the upstairs room which would soon be lost. There was no alternative but to call for help from the 'damned Chinese' who lived next to the English warehouse and who agreed to empty the building in return for a large share of that gold.
'When the fire was all out,' wrote Scott, 'I stood musing alone by myselfe how this fire could come, being verie much grieved in minde.'What disquieted him was the fact that the fire appeared to have started underground and had only spread so rapidly because it had already taken hold in the joists beneath the floorboards. His suspicions of treachery were confirmed when he wrenched up a short length of the floor and discovered a tunnel leading in the direction of the house opposite. Vowing to have his revenge, Scott stormed around to this building, seized two men and marched them back to the warehouse where he had them clapped in irons.
He was keen that everyone involved in the plot should be punished and with the judicious application of a branding iron soon had a list of all the guilty men. One of these, handed over by the authorities, refused to admit his part in the affair even though he had openly bragged about his involvement around town. 'Wherefore,' wrote Scott in a matter-of-fact entry in his journal, 'I thought I would burne him a little (for we were now in the heate of our anger.)'
What follows is a clinical account of the torture, a barbarous affair which makes for painful reading even when one allows for the fact that the employment of torture to extract confessions was standard procedure in the English judicial system:
First, I caused him to be burned under the nayles of his thumbes, fingers, and toes with sharpe hotte iron, and the nayles to be torne off. And because he never blemished at that, we thought that his handes and legges had beene nummed with tying; wherefore we burned him in the arms, shoulders, and necke. But all was one with him. Then we burned him quite thorow the handes, and with rasps of iron tore out the flesh and sinewes. After that, I caused them to knocke the edges of his shinne bones with hotte searing irons. Then I caused colde screws of irone to be screwed into the bones of his armes and sodenly to be snatched out. After that all the bones of his fingers and toes to be broken with pincers. Yet for all this he never shed a teare; no, nor once turned his head aside, nor stirred hand or foot, but when we demaunded any question, he would put his tongue betweene his teeth and strike his chynne upon his knees to bite it off. When all the extremity we could use was but in vaine, I caused him to be put fast in irons againe; where the emmets [white ants] (which do greatly abound there) got into his wounds and tormented him worse than we had done, as we might well see by his gesture.
The King's officers desired me he might be shott to death ... wherefore, they being verie importunate, in the evening we led him into the fields and made him fast to a stake. The first shott caried away a peece of his arme bone, and all the next shot struck him thorough the breast, up neare to the shoulder. Then he, holding down his head, looked upon the wound. The third shott that was made, one of our men had cut a bullet in three partes, which strooke upon his breast in a tryangle; whereat he fell down as low as the stake would give him leave. But betweene our men and the Hollanders, they shot him almost to peeces before they left him.
Power was commensurate with brutality in Bantam but despite the horrific barbarity inflicted on the instigators of the fire, life got no easier for the English. The stresses of living cooped up in a confined space, coupled with the lack of sleep caused by round-the-clock watches, began to tell on the men. 'What with overwatching and with suddaine waking out of our sleepe (we beeing continually in feare of our lives) some of our men were distract of their witts; especially one, who sometimes in the night would fall into such a franticke rage that two or three of his fellowes could hardly keepe him in his bed.' On more than one occasion the men began fighting among themselves and could only be brought to their senses by being clapped in irons.
Scott soon realised that one of the main reasons why they faced the constant threat of violence was that the native Javanese were unable to distinguish between the English and Dutch. The Hollanders, who lived in Bantam in considerable numbers, paid scant regard to the sensitivities of the local population and thought nothing of staggering home through the streets of this staunchly Muslim town after a lengthy drinking bout. Their behaviour led to 'much falling out betweene the Hollanders and the countrey people, by means of the rude behaviour of some of their marriners; and many of them were stabbed in the eveninges'. The situation was made worse by the fact that some of the Dutch would pretend they were English if they thought it would be to their advantage when buying spices. It was Scott's subordinate, Gabriel Towerson, who dreamed up a clever way to draw a distinction between the two nations. Realising that the anniversary of Queen Elizabeth Is coronation was drawing near - 'for at that time we knew no other but that Queene Elizabeth was lyving' — he suggested they celebrate the event in the most extravagant manner possible. Then, when quizzed about the pageantry, they could explain to the natives that they, unlike the other rabble, were commemorating their monarch.
Scott listened to Towerson's plan but was initially sceptical. 'I stood in doubt many times whether I should put this in practise or not,' he wrote, 'for feare of being counted fantasticall when it should be knowne in England.' In the end he relented and ordered the small English community to dress themselves in white silk, don scarves of red and white taffeta, make 'a flagge with the redde crosse thorow the middle', and dust down their military drums.
'Our day beeing come, we set up our banner of Sainct George upon the top of our house, and with our drumme and shott we marched up and downe within our owne grounde; being but fourteene in number, wherefore we could march but single, one after the other, plying our shotte.'The performance had the desired effect. Hundreds of curious locals, including many of the most important personages of the town, flocked to the English factory to enquire the reason for the celebration. 'We told them that that day sixe and fortie yeares our Queene was crowned; wherefore all Englishmen, in what country soever they were, did triumph on that day. He [a local dignitary] greatly commended us for having our prince in reverence in so farre a countrey.'
Others were bewildered by the behaviour of the English and asked why the other Englishmen in the town were not celebrating the Queen's anniversary. It was exactly the question Scott had hoped they would ask and, with a distinct note of pride, 'told them they were no Englishmen, but Hollanders, and that they had no king, but their land was ruled by governours'. Some were sceptical when they heard this explanation and told him that these so-called
Hollanders had persistently called themselves English. 'But we told them againe that they were of another countrey, neere England, and spake another language; and that, if they did talke with them now, they should heare they were of another nation.'
The day ended in triumph. As a constant stream of shot was fired in celebration from the English factory a procession of children wound through the streets shouting ' "Oran Enggrees bayck, orak Hollanda jahad" which is: "the Englishmen are good, the Hollanders are naught." '
Scott was fast learning that when dealing with the native Javanese, style was every bit as important as substance. Now, with a feast day to celebrate the king's circumcision just weeks away, he prepared to lay on a gift that, while less costly than that of the Dutch, would be guaranteed to leave a deep impression. 'Amongst all others,' he wrote, 'we were to make a show, the best we could.' While the local chieftains, princes and Dutch merchants were buying gifts of gold and jewellery, the English 'bought a very faire pomegranate tree, being full of fruite growing on it ... which we set in a frame beeing made of rattan or carrack-rushes, somewhat like a bird's cage, but very wyde. At the roote of this tree we placed earth, and upon that greene turfe, so that it stood as if it had been still growing. Uppon t
hese turfes we put three silver-headed conies [rabbits] which our Vice-Admirall had given me; and at the top, and round about upon the boughs, we with thread made fast a number of smalle birds which would ever be cherping. Soe that tree was ... full of faire fruite, and birdes merily singing on the top. 'The men spent some days on their handicraft and Scott was delighted with the end result. He would have liked to deliver it to the King accompanied by a troupe of English damsels but, 'we had no women; wherefore we borrowed thirty of the prettiest boys we could get.' Once again Gabriel Towerson proved his usefulness. 'Master Towerson had a very pretty boye,' writes Scott, 'a Chinese, [who] we attyred as gallant as the King, whom we sent to present these thinges and to make a speach to him.' The procession was led by a trumpeter and followed by ten musketeers, all dressed in the red and white colours of England. Next came the pikemen, all Chinese, and finally the 'pretty boye' who had a canopy held over him to screen the sun.
The King was overjoyed with the gift, the more so when he learned that the English entourage had filled their pockets with fireworks which they proceeded to light for his amusement. The day came to a climax with a tiger parade, a circus act and, unhappily for the King, his circumcision. Whether he made immediate use of his favourite present, a 'fair quilted bed with twelve bolsters and pillows of silk', is not recorded.
When Scott finally came to leave Bantam he expressed amazement that he had survived his ordeal: throughout his years in the city he had dug many a grave for his fellow countrymen and been a witness to (and participant in) unprecedented brutality. Yet the harsh treatment he received had done nothing to dent his pride in being English, and his dogged determination to defend his country's flag became the inspiration for the factors who followed — men like Nathaniel Courthope for whom patriotism and devotion to duty were more important even than trade.
'And here it is not fit I should omit one thing,' writes Scott in the final pages of his journal, 'and yet to make relation of it, some may thinke I do it of a vaineglorie to myselfe and those that were with me ... It was a common talke among all straungers and others how we stoode at defiance with those that hated us, [and] it will be a thing generallye talked of, in all parts of the worlde, what different carriage we have beene of, when it is likely there will be no English [left in Bantam].'
His prophetic words would in time be fulfilled, but the English presence in the East still had more than a decade to run. Although Sir Henry Middleton's second expedition had ended in disaster, the East India Company directors remained in buoyant mood and were considering expanding their trade in the East. By the time Courthope arrived in Bantam in 1611, they had factors dotted all over the region searching for markets for English goods, and the Company records are filled with letters from obscure backwaters reporting on the feasibility of trade. These missions often ended in disaster: in Macassar the factor was forced to flee for his life after 'a pitiful tragedy' caused by the Dutch who 'murdered the King's most dearly loved nephew more like cannibals than Christians'. In Johor it was the English who made a bad impression; so bad, indeed, that the King of Johor sent a letter to a neighbouring king warning him to steer clear of what he described as 'a vile people, drunkards and thieves'. Even China, which had once been viewed as a most promising market, was henceforth out of bounds. The King of Cochin attacked an English trading vessel and overturned it, and 'both English, Dutch and Japans, their followers, [were] cut to pieces and killed in the water with harping irons like fishes.'
The London merchants proved incredibly resilient to the continued bad news and resolved not only to search for trade 'at other places' but to appoint a far greater number of factors. Yet for all their enthusiasm, most English factories were never more than temporary bases which lasted for only as long as the factor stayed in good health — usually little more than a few months. For if life was unremittingly hard in Bantam, it was often far worse on the island outposts to which Courthope would find himself posted. The steady trickle of letters from the Company's factors contain a litany of complaints and grievances for, notwithstanding the constant threat of sickness and disease, most found themselves afflicted with homesickness and extreme loneliness. For some the loneliness quite addled their minds, as is revealed in an extraordinary letter written by one William Nealson, factor in Firando. Full of riddles, puns and strange allusions it begins: 'Morrow, bully; morrow morrow. To recover my health, I forgot not, fasting, a pot of blue burning ale with a fiery flaming toast and after (for recreation's sake) provided a long staff with a pike in the end of it to jump over joined stools with them.'
Others retained their sanity only to complain bitterly at the treatment they received from their employers. 'At home men are famous for doing nothing;' wrote one disgruntled factor, 'here they are infamous for their honest endeavour. At home is respect and reward; abroad disrespect and heartbreaking. At home is augmentation of wages; abroad no more than the third of wages. At home is content; abroad nothing so much as griefs, cares and displeasure. At home is safety; abroad no security. At home is liberty; abroad the best is bondage. And, in a word, at home all things are as a man may wish, and here nothing answerable to merit.'
The complaint that wages had gone unpaid is frequently heard and one that grieved factors greatly since most had only been lured eastwards by the prospect of making money. More frightening was the ever-present spectre of the grim reaper who demanded a high price from those who settled in the East. The average life expectancy for factors was no more than three years and it is little wonder that many followed the example of William Hawkins in India who brazenly admitted to using his time to 'feather my nest'. Nathaniel Courthope was no exception: in a letter sent from Bantam to London in the winter of 1613 he, along with a number of other factors, was accused of 'purloining the Company's goods, deceiving private men, insolent behaviour, and vanity in wearing buckles of gold in their girdles'. Furthermore, the Company's attention is drawn to 'the great wealth they have gathered suddenly, being worth £500 or £600 each', and the fact that 'they are false and unjust to their masters.'
With the threat of his 'great wealth' being confiscated by the next vessel to arrive in the East — and doubtless concerned that he would be left penniless and without prospects in these distant lands — Courthope repented of his misdemeanours and wrote 'a voluntary confession' of his wrong-doings. It was a shrewd move for he soon found himself back in favour and, in the spring of 1614, was instructed to sail to Sukadana, a port on the south-west coast of Borneo where, it was rumoured, 'the best diamonds in the world [are] to be procured'.
Sukadana was already home to one of the Company's more flamboyant factors, a professional sailor called Sophony Cozucke. Known as 'Sophony the Russe', but more probably Sophonias the Kazak, he had established a base at the only place in the East where diamonds were indeed in plentiful supply. With the help of Courthope,'of whom there is great hopes that he shall do your Worships good service,' the two men set about expanding this lucrative trade and investigating what goods were of greatest value for barter.
The hardships they faced in Sukadana were similar to those facing all factors in such remote spots. As they were totally dependent on English vessels for food and money, it only took one supply ship to be blown off course for a factory to be plunged from prosperity to near-starvation. When the Darling re-entered the harbour at Sukadana after a lengthy absence, its captain was alarmed to find the factory 'indebted to the Hollanders, and in a poor, beggarly state, because the junk that was despatched from Bantam first touched at Macassar'. Although in good health, Courthope and Sophony were 'altogether unfurnished with money [and] report that they had in consequence been obliged to refuse 1,000 carats of diamonds'.
Once Courthope had turned Sukadana into a going concern, buying gemstones on the cheap and exporting them to Bantam for re-sale, he was keen to expand his trade. Learning that Borneo was rich in gold, diamonds and bezoar stones, a concretion taken from the stomach of animals which was believed to be an antidote, he despatched Soph
ony to the island on a reconnaissance mission. His instructions, a copy of which he forwarded to Bantam, ordered 'the Russe' to 'proceed to Landak and confer with the governors of those parts upon what security the English may settle a factory there'. In addition he was 'to learn privately whether they stand in fear of the Sukadanians or not, for if so, I see not how our people can be safely with them'. With characteristic cynicism - a cynicism that would become more pronounced during his long years in the Banda Islands - he ended with a caution: 'Above all, be not flattered with fruitless hopes, but if possible, bring firmans [written confirmation] for what they say or promise.'
The mission was not a success, largely because of the 'savageness of the people ... who lie in the rivers on purpose to take off the heads of all they can overcome'. Sophony and his two companions were attacked by a mob of a thousand men and 'escaped a miraculous danger', only surviving the onslaught when they discovered the natives were 'not used to powder and shot [and] were fain to run ashore'. A second, heavily armed expedition had more success, largely because of the English muskets. 'The force of the whole country,' wrote Sophony, 'was not able to withstand nine men.'
