Lands of Red and Gold
- Thread starter Jared
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May be possible to do more exploration of traditional Atjuntja religion at some point. But in very general terms it's a duality between Lord = bad and Lady = good. You thank the Lady for all good fortune, and try to invoke Her to attain the same, and blame the Lord for all misfortune, and try to channel known misfortune (ie sacrifices) to avoid other, worse misfortune.
Glad you liked it. This one was fun to write as a clash of cultures piece, with different expectations and also the need to work together.
From the surname, Knudsen = Nuddhin to the Atjuntja. They aren't great at consonant clusters, so just start with "n". They can't pronounce fricatives such as "s" at all, and so either ignore them or end up with a kind of "h" sound (as here) or occasionally "dj" (also used for "sh).
Similarly, the Dutch call the Portuguese "Spanish" (unified Iberia at this point), and leave the initial "s" silent and mangle the sh as "dj" - which is in itself an approximation of a sound used in some actual Aboriginal languages but which can't be exactly rendered by English-speakers. (At least, not me.)
I may do a meta-post on the pronunciation etc of *Aboriginal languages at some point. I do have some underlying rules behind it, although as with all such things transliterations are only approximate anyway.
Very informative, thanks!
It was really well done, kudos!
Lands of Red and Gold #29: Shards of Pangaea
Lands of Red and Gold #29: Shards of Pangaea
"For all mankind that unstained scroll unfurled,
Where God might write anew the story of the World."
- Edward Everett Hale
--
From: "Three Worlds in Collision: The Globe in Upheaval"
By Shimon Grodensky
Step back in history for a millennium, and the blue-green globe we call Earth was not, in truth, one world. Mankind had reached all of the habitable portions of the globe save for a few scattered islands, but the planet remained divided. Not one world but three, each following separate paths.
The Old World, with the four united continents of Europe, Asia, India and Africa and outlying islands, contained the bulk of the world's area and population, the earliest agriculture, the earliest civilizations, and the most advanced technology. With their common geography, the fates of these four continents had been entwined since the emergence of the human species.
The New World, with the continents of North and South America joined at the Isthmus of Panama, accompanied by the isles of the Caribbean, reached from the tropics to both poles. While smaller in area than the Old World, and only reached by mankind ten or so millennia before, it still provided a third of the world's habitable land surface and supported substantial human civilizations.
The Third World, the island continent of Aururia and the then-uninhabited islands of Aotearoa, held only a small fraction of the world's area and an even smaller fraction of its population. In its flora and fauna, though, it had followed an independent path for so long that the first explorers who saw its plants and animals believed that it was the product of a separate creation.
One thousand years ago, these three worlds had developed largely according to their own destinies, with only occasional contact which did not significantly affect their isolation. The Old World and the New saw limited crossings of peoples across Broch Strait [Bering Strait]; the Old World and the Third encountered each other in hesitant interactions across Torres Strait.
In the course of the last thousand years, these three separate worlds were forged into one globe with a unified destiny. Still, the first efforts at fusion were abortive. Pioneering Austronesians had anticipated the joining of the worlds, visiting Aururia long enough to leave behind dogs, and visiting South America to swap chickens for sweet potatoes. Yet these landmark contacts were not sustained. Norse settlers colonised Greenland and landed on North America, only to be driven out by the indigenous inhabitants. The ancestors of the Maori colonised empty Aotearoa and then crossed the Tethys Sea [Tasman Sea] to encounter the Aururian peoples, but then lost contact with their relatives in Polynesia.
Sustained contact, and the global unification which this would produce, awaited the birth of more determined explorers. Christopher Columbus's discovery of the Caribbean islands set in motion a course of events which would join the Old World to the New. While Columbus was not the first to discover the Americas [1], his accomplishment was in making sure that this contact would endure. A century and a quarter later, Frederik de Houtman created a place for himself in history when he achieved a similar feat in discovering Aururia. Again, de Houtman was not the first discoverer of the island continent, but he was the first man to ensure that Aururia would not return to its isolation.
The three paths of human existence came together in a crossroads forged by two men. The expeditions first of Columbus and de Houtman started to bring the three worlds together; two voyages which marked the first tremors of exchanges that would shake the globe.
The Columbian Exchange and the Houtmanian Exchange were the most significant events in human history. They transformed the globe over the course of the last five centuries; no corner of the planet was untouched by the events set in motion by Columbus and de Houtman. The modern world as we know it was in large part created by the consequences of these two exchanges.
The Exchanges marked an immense transfer of people, diseases, plants, animals, and ideas between the three previously separate worlds. These exchanges had massive effects on every human society on the globe. New diseases spread around the world, devastating many societies. Large-scale migrations transformed or replaced many cultures. The spread of new plants and animals marked a more beneficial aspect of the Exchanges; more productive or more resilient crops allowed increased human populations...
Of all the changes to human ways of life which the Exchanges brought, none were more profound than the spread of crops and livestock. New staple crops transformed the diets of peoples on every continent, as much larger growing regions were opened up for cultivation. The spread of domestic animals revolutionised transportation, farming practices, and entire ways of life of peoples around the globe.
Consider, for instance, that maize and cassava, when introduced into Africa, replaced the former dietary staples to become the premier food crops on much of the continent. Red yams and cornnarts [wattles] became the highest-yielding crops around most of the Mediterranean. South American potatoes had never been seen in Europe before 1492, but within three centuries they became so important in Ireland that potato blight threatened mass starvation on the island; the dire situation was only averted by expanding cultivation of another imported crop, this one from the other end of the globe: murnong.
Horses had never been seen in the New World before Columbus, but they spread throughout the North American prairies, leading entire cultures to abandon farming and turn to a nomadic lifestyle. Coffee and sugar cane were native to the Old World, but the Columbian Exchange saw their cultivation expand to massive plantations in the New. Rubber was native to the New World, but its greatest use has now become in plantations in the Old. Kunduri was native to the Third World, but during the Houtmanian Exchange it became widely cultivated in plantations in both the Old and New Worlds, while cultures throughout the globe were transformed by the influence of kunduri...
Some crops and animals which spread during the Exchanges have become so iconic to distant regions that it is hard to imagine that five hundred years ago, the peoples of those regions had never seen or heard of them. Who can imagine Tuscany without tomatoes, Ireland without potatoes, Sicily without red yams, Thijszenia [Tasmania] without apples, Tegesta [Florida] without oranges, West Africa without peanuts, Costa Rica without bananas, Maui [Hawaii] without pineapples, or Tuniza without quandongs? What would Bavaria be without chocolate, South Africa without kunduri, or France without the klinsigars [cigarettes] produced from it? Or who can picture Tejas without sheep, the Neeburra [Darling Downs, Queensland, Australia] without horses, or Argentina without wheat and cornnart and the immense herds of cattle they sustain?
Indeed, the list of exchanged plants and animals that have become naturalised in new regions could be expanded almost endlessly. Before de Houtman, Ethiopia had no nooroons [emus] and no murnong, Brittany had no sweet peppers [2], Portugal had no lemon verbena [lemon myrtle], and Persia had no lutos [bush pears]. Before Columbus, there were no chilli peppers in Siam and India, no coffee in New Granada, no vanilla in Madagascar, no sunflowers in Daluming, no avocados in Ceylon, no rubber trees in Africa, and no oca in Aotearoa...
Nothing offers greater testament to the agricultural benefits of the Exchanges than a comparison of the origins of the modern world's major crops. The world's agriculture is dominated by a mere twenty crops. They are the titans of the plant kingdom, which between them contain the best-suited staple crops for all of the diverse climes around the globe. Together, these crops account for around nine-tenths of the tonnage of all crops grown under human cultivation.
Six of these foremost crops come from the New World (potato, maize, cassava, sweet potato, tomato, chilli & bell pepper), eleven are from the Old World (rice, sugar cane, grape, wheat, soybean, barley, orange, onion, sorghum, banana, apple), and three are from the Third World (red & lesser yam, cornnart, and murnong). Today their cultivation is global, but a millennium ago each of these crops was confined to one of the three worlds, and often had restricted range even within their native world...
The two Exchanges have much in common in their effects on the globe: they transformed agriculture and cuisine, and made each world's resources available to a much larger area. Still, the two Exchanges had distinctly different characters, particularly in their relative effects on the Old World, and in the fates of the peoples and cultures in the two smaller worlds.
In the Columbian Exchange, many major crops moved in both directions, and Eurasia swallowed many of the New World's resources. In most other aspects, however, the Columbian Exchange was in effect unidirectional. In the movement of diseases, Old World epidemics devastated the populations of the New World, while not a single significant human disease made the reverse journey back across the Atlantic to Europe or elsewhere in the Old World. The Americas did not provide a single major domestic animal that greatly transformed Old World societies – cavies, llamas, turkeys and muscovy ducks were only of minor importance – while Eurasia provided horses, cattle, sheep, pigs, and chickens which all transformed life in the New World. The shifts of language and peoples in the Columbian Exchange were all cases of Old World peoples expanding at the expense of the native languages and peoples of the New World. And while the resources of the New World would feed the burgeoning commerce and ultimately manufacturing of Europe, no significant changes to Old World religion or science came about as a result of Columbus's contact...
In the Houtmanian Exchange, as in its Columbian predecessors, major crops were exchanged in both directions. Yet the Third World did not provide as many resources to feed Europe's growth, mostly because of the much smaller size of Aururia and Aotearoa.
De Houtman's legacy saw a true exchange of diseases between the Old and Third Worlds, although the character of this interaction was markedly different from that which followed Columbus. Aururian diseases were much swifter in their effects on the Old World (and the New), due to their individual nature and the facts of geography which made them easier to transmit around the globe. The effects of Old World diseases on Aururia were slower, more insidious and ultimately much more destructive.
In the exchange of domestic animals, the Old World again provided many more kinds of livestock which would transform the societies of the Third World – horses, camels, donkeys, pigs and chickens. Nonetheless, the Third World provided one domestic animal, the nooroon, whose arrival changed human ways of life in a substantial part of the Old World.
In the transfer of peoples and language, the Houtmanian Exchange was more complex than the Columbian, but ultimately bidirectional. Likewise, while the flow of ideas was largely a tide flowing from the Old World, contact with Aururia did lead to significant developments in the history of religion and science...
--
From: "Europe's Assault on the Globe"
By Hans van Leeuwen
Chapter 7: Drive to the East
Europe's interest in the East began long before Columbus inadvertently began the European assault on the West; indeed, the misguided Genoan had intended to reach the East by sailing west. The lure of spices had inspired the Portuguese to explore Africa and round the Cape before Columbus set foot on the isles of the Caribbean, and even those intrepid explorers were merely seeking to gain easier access to Eastern goods which had previously passed through Muslim and Venetian hands.
Vasco de Gama reached India a handful of years after Columbus's wayward voyage led him to what he had fondly believed was the Spice Islands. In this era, Spanish conquistadors followed in Columbus's wake, pursuing gold and visions, and delivered the first blows in what would become Europe's assault on the Americas. With Spain thereby distracted from Eastern ambitions, it fell to Portugal to become the vanguard of Europe's drive to the East...
While the East held and holds many diverse regions, the early aims of the Powers were focused on four prizes that held the greatest rewards to match Europe's interests. Cathay, then the most advanced nation on the globe, source of much silk and porcelain (and later tea), and an endless sink for bullion. The East Indies, politically divided and often unwelcoming, but the source of many of the most valuable spices in the world. India, dominated by the expanding might of the Great Mughals, had long been the emporium of the world, attracting many other goods even from the prizes of the East, and which offered cotton, dyes, silk, and saltpetre. Aururia, isolated, divided and primitive, but with supplies of gold and silver to rival the resources of the West, home to and at first the exclusive supplier of kunduri, and a source of new spices, some of which offered new markets, and others which would ruin the market for what had until then been the most valuable spice in the world.
These were the four prizes which lured the Powers to explore the vastness of the globe, and whose wealth drew individual Europeans to make long voyages even at the risks of privation, disease, and far too common death. Unlike in the West, where military might was quickly aimed at the native inhabitants, in the East, the early Europeans came as traders more than as conquerors. To be sure, European powers fought in the East where it suited their purposes, but their aims were not conquest, but access and ultimately control of trade markets. Commerce was their aim, military force merely their tool. In the East, when Europeans turned to force of arms, as often as not their targets would be other Europeans, not the Eastern peoples...
Chapter 10: In Pursuit of Gold and Spices
In Aururia, as elsewhere in the East, the early Powers who descended on the continent were the Dutch, Portuguese and English. Unlike the other Eastern prizes, in the South Land the Dutch were the pioneers, and the other Powers were the ones seeking to unseat them.
As in the rest of the East, though, the Powers were competing for wealth. There was not yet any thought of major settlement, even though parts of this island continent were as empty as much of the Americas. Lucre drew them, not land, for the shipping distances were far longer and the diseases much more formidable, even in those parts of the continent where the natives were not yet any more advanced than the Red Indians. For those Europeans who wanted land, the Americas were closer and more welcoming. Those who were prepared to travel across half the world wanted something much more rewarding for their endeavours...
The Dutch, in the guise of their trading company, had little difficulty establishing the first European trading outposts in western Aururia. Mutual trade suited both Dutch and natives, profitable enough to thrive despite the first ravages of Aururian plagues across the world and the first of many Eurasian epidemics in Aururia.
The problems which the Dutch faced would derive from their rival Powers, not the natives. Rumours of gold spread even faster than the dying cough [Marnitja]. The Portuguese were the Power keenest to heed these rumours, and with the fortunate capture of a Dutch ship, received access to excellent charts, and were informed of the unprotected Fort Nassau. The temptation was overwhelming, the lust for gold insatiable, and Portugal launched the first strike in the European struggle for control of Aururia. There could hardly be a more telling omen of the fate that awaited the Land of Gold than that this blow had been delivered by one European power upon another...
--
[1] Of course Columbus was not the first to discover the Americas; for a start, they had already been discovered by the Americans themselves.
[2] The plants which are here called sweet peppers are pepperbushes (Tasmannia spp) from *Australia. They are not the historical plants which are called sweet peppers, bell peppers or capsicum (which allohistorically are usually called bell peppers or pimentos). Also unlike them, Tasmannia is very "hot"; the name "sweet pepper" came into use because the most widespread variety has an initially sweet taste, but an intense, hot aftertaste.
--
Thoughts?
"For all mankind that unstained scroll unfurled,
Where God might write anew the story of the World."
- Edward Everett Hale
--
From: "Three Worlds in Collision: The Globe in Upheaval"
By Shimon Grodensky
Step back in history for a millennium, and the blue-green globe we call Earth was not, in truth, one world. Mankind had reached all of the habitable portions of the globe save for a few scattered islands, but the planet remained divided. Not one world but three, each following separate paths.
The Old World, with the four united continents of Europe, Asia, India and Africa and outlying islands, contained the bulk of the world's area and population, the earliest agriculture, the earliest civilizations, and the most advanced technology. With their common geography, the fates of these four continents had been entwined since the emergence of the human species.
The New World, with the continents of North and South America joined at the Isthmus of Panama, accompanied by the isles of the Caribbean, reached from the tropics to both poles. While smaller in area than the Old World, and only reached by mankind ten or so millennia before, it still provided a third of the world's habitable land surface and supported substantial human civilizations.
The Third World, the island continent of Aururia and the then-uninhabited islands of Aotearoa, held only a small fraction of the world's area and an even smaller fraction of its population. In its flora and fauna, though, it had followed an independent path for so long that the first explorers who saw its plants and animals believed that it was the product of a separate creation.
One thousand years ago, these three worlds had developed largely according to their own destinies, with only occasional contact which did not significantly affect their isolation. The Old World and the New saw limited crossings of peoples across Broch Strait [Bering Strait]; the Old World and the Third encountered each other in hesitant interactions across Torres Strait.
In the course of the last thousand years, these three separate worlds were forged into one globe with a unified destiny. Still, the first efforts at fusion were abortive. Pioneering Austronesians had anticipated the joining of the worlds, visiting Aururia long enough to leave behind dogs, and visiting South America to swap chickens for sweet potatoes. Yet these landmark contacts were not sustained. Norse settlers colonised Greenland and landed on North America, only to be driven out by the indigenous inhabitants. The ancestors of the Maori colonised empty Aotearoa and then crossed the Tethys Sea [Tasman Sea] to encounter the Aururian peoples, but then lost contact with their relatives in Polynesia.
Sustained contact, and the global unification which this would produce, awaited the birth of more determined explorers. Christopher Columbus's discovery of the Caribbean islands set in motion a course of events which would join the Old World to the New. While Columbus was not the first to discover the Americas [1], his accomplishment was in making sure that this contact would endure. A century and a quarter later, Frederik de Houtman created a place for himself in history when he achieved a similar feat in discovering Aururia. Again, de Houtman was not the first discoverer of the island continent, but he was the first man to ensure that Aururia would not return to its isolation.
The three paths of human existence came together in a crossroads forged by two men. The expeditions first of Columbus and de Houtman started to bring the three worlds together; two voyages which marked the first tremors of exchanges that would shake the globe.
The Columbian Exchange and the Houtmanian Exchange were the most significant events in human history. They transformed the globe over the course of the last five centuries; no corner of the planet was untouched by the events set in motion by Columbus and de Houtman. The modern world as we know it was in large part created by the consequences of these two exchanges.
The Exchanges marked an immense transfer of people, diseases, plants, animals, and ideas between the three previously separate worlds. These exchanges had massive effects on every human society on the globe. New diseases spread around the world, devastating many societies. Large-scale migrations transformed or replaced many cultures. The spread of new plants and animals marked a more beneficial aspect of the Exchanges; more productive or more resilient crops allowed increased human populations...
Of all the changes to human ways of life which the Exchanges brought, none were more profound than the spread of crops and livestock. New staple crops transformed the diets of peoples on every continent, as much larger growing regions were opened up for cultivation. The spread of domestic animals revolutionised transportation, farming practices, and entire ways of life of peoples around the globe.
Consider, for instance, that maize and cassava, when introduced into Africa, replaced the former dietary staples to become the premier food crops on much of the continent. Red yams and cornnarts [wattles] became the highest-yielding crops around most of the Mediterranean. South American potatoes had never been seen in Europe before 1492, but within three centuries they became so important in Ireland that potato blight threatened mass starvation on the island; the dire situation was only averted by expanding cultivation of another imported crop, this one from the other end of the globe: murnong.
Horses had never been seen in the New World before Columbus, but they spread throughout the North American prairies, leading entire cultures to abandon farming and turn to a nomadic lifestyle. Coffee and sugar cane were native to the Old World, but the Columbian Exchange saw their cultivation expand to massive plantations in the New. Rubber was native to the New World, but its greatest use has now become in plantations in the Old. Kunduri was native to the Third World, but during the Houtmanian Exchange it became widely cultivated in plantations in both the Old and New Worlds, while cultures throughout the globe were transformed by the influence of kunduri...
Some crops and animals which spread during the Exchanges have become so iconic to distant regions that it is hard to imagine that five hundred years ago, the peoples of those regions had never seen or heard of them. Who can imagine Tuscany without tomatoes, Ireland without potatoes, Sicily without red yams, Thijszenia [Tasmania] without apples, Tegesta [Florida] without oranges, West Africa without peanuts, Costa Rica without bananas, Maui [Hawaii] without pineapples, or Tuniza without quandongs? What would Bavaria be without chocolate, South Africa without kunduri, or France without the klinsigars [cigarettes] produced from it? Or who can picture Tejas without sheep, the Neeburra [Darling Downs, Queensland, Australia] without horses, or Argentina without wheat and cornnart and the immense herds of cattle they sustain?
Indeed, the list of exchanged plants and animals that have become naturalised in new regions could be expanded almost endlessly. Before de Houtman, Ethiopia had no nooroons [emus] and no murnong, Brittany had no sweet peppers [2], Portugal had no lemon verbena [lemon myrtle], and Persia had no lutos [bush pears]. Before Columbus, there were no chilli peppers in Siam and India, no coffee in New Granada, no vanilla in Madagascar, no sunflowers in Daluming, no avocados in Ceylon, no rubber trees in Africa, and no oca in Aotearoa...
Nothing offers greater testament to the agricultural benefits of the Exchanges than a comparison of the origins of the modern world's major crops. The world's agriculture is dominated by a mere twenty crops. They are the titans of the plant kingdom, which between them contain the best-suited staple crops for all of the diverse climes around the globe. Together, these crops account for around nine-tenths of the tonnage of all crops grown under human cultivation.
Six of these foremost crops come from the New World (potato, maize, cassava, sweet potato, tomato, chilli & bell pepper), eleven are from the Old World (rice, sugar cane, grape, wheat, soybean, barley, orange, onion, sorghum, banana, apple), and three are from the Third World (red & lesser yam, cornnart, and murnong). Today their cultivation is global, but a millennium ago each of these crops was confined to one of the three worlds, and often had restricted range even within their native world...
The two Exchanges have much in common in their effects on the globe: they transformed agriculture and cuisine, and made each world's resources available to a much larger area. Still, the two Exchanges had distinctly different characters, particularly in their relative effects on the Old World, and in the fates of the peoples and cultures in the two smaller worlds.
In the Columbian Exchange, many major crops moved in both directions, and Eurasia swallowed many of the New World's resources. In most other aspects, however, the Columbian Exchange was in effect unidirectional. In the movement of diseases, Old World epidemics devastated the populations of the New World, while not a single significant human disease made the reverse journey back across the Atlantic to Europe or elsewhere in the Old World. The Americas did not provide a single major domestic animal that greatly transformed Old World societies – cavies, llamas, turkeys and muscovy ducks were only of minor importance – while Eurasia provided horses, cattle, sheep, pigs, and chickens which all transformed life in the New World. The shifts of language and peoples in the Columbian Exchange were all cases of Old World peoples expanding at the expense of the native languages and peoples of the New World. And while the resources of the New World would feed the burgeoning commerce and ultimately manufacturing of Europe, no significant changes to Old World religion or science came about as a result of Columbus's contact...
In the Houtmanian Exchange, as in its Columbian predecessors, major crops were exchanged in both directions. Yet the Third World did not provide as many resources to feed Europe's growth, mostly because of the much smaller size of Aururia and Aotearoa.
De Houtman's legacy saw a true exchange of diseases between the Old and Third Worlds, although the character of this interaction was markedly different from that which followed Columbus. Aururian diseases were much swifter in their effects on the Old World (and the New), due to their individual nature and the facts of geography which made them easier to transmit around the globe. The effects of Old World diseases on Aururia were slower, more insidious and ultimately much more destructive.
In the exchange of domestic animals, the Old World again provided many more kinds of livestock which would transform the societies of the Third World – horses, camels, donkeys, pigs and chickens. Nonetheless, the Third World provided one domestic animal, the nooroon, whose arrival changed human ways of life in a substantial part of the Old World.
In the transfer of peoples and language, the Houtmanian Exchange was more complex than the Columbian, but ultimately bidirectional. Likewise, while the flow of ideas was largely a tide flowing from the Old World, contact with Aururia did lead to significant developments in the history of religion and science...
--
From: "Europe's Assault on the Globe"
By Hans van Leeuwen
Chapter 7: Drive to the East
Europe's interest in the East began long before Columbus inadvertently began the European assault on the West; indeed, the misguided Genoan had intended to reach the East by sailing west. The lure of spices had inspired the Portuguese to explore Africa and round the Cape before Columbus set foot on the isles of the Caribbean, and even those intrepid explorers were merely seeking to gain easier access to Eastern goods which had previously passed through Muslim and Venetian hands.
Vasco de Gama reached India a handful of years after Columbus's wayward voyage led him to what he had fondly believed was the Spice Islands. In this era, Spanish conquistadors followed in Columbus's wake, pursuing gold and visions, and delivered the first blows in what would become Europe's assault on the Americas. With Spain thereby distracted from Eastern ambitions, it fell to Portugal to become the vanguard of Europe's drive to the East...
While the East held and holds many diverse regions, the early aims of the Powers were focused on four prizes that held the greatest rewards to match Europe's interests. Cathay, then the most advanced nation on the globe, source of much silk and porcelain (and later tea), and an endless sink for bullion. The East Indies, politically divided and often unwelcoming, but the source of many of the most valuable spices in the world. India, dominated by the expanding might of the Great Mughals, had long been the emporium of the world, attracting many other goods even from the prizes of the East, and which offered cotton, dyes, silk, and saltpetre. Aururia, isolated, divided and primitive, but with supplies of gold and silver to rival the resources of the West, home to and at first the exclusive supplier of kunduri, and a source of new spices, some of which offered new markets, and others which would ruin the market for what had until then been the most valuable spice in the world.
These were the four prizes which lured the Powers to explore the vastness of the globe, and whose wealth drew individual Europeans to make long voyages even at the risks of privation, disease, and far too common death. Unlike in the West, where military might was quickly aimed at the native inhabitants, in the East, the early Europeans came as traders more than as conquerors. To be sure, European powers fought in the East where it suited their purposes, but their aims were not conquest, but access and ultimately control of trade markets. Commerce was their aim, military force merely their tool. In the East, when Europeans turned to force of arms, as often as not their targets would be other Europeans, not the Eastern peoples...
Chapter 10: In Pursuit of Gold and Spices
In Aururia, as elsewhere in the East, the early Powers who descended on the continent were the Dutch, Portuguese and English. Unlike the other Eastern prizes, in the South Land the Dutch were the pioneers, and the other Powers were the ones seeking to unseat them.
As in the rest of the East, though, the Powers were competing for wealth. There was not yet any thought of major settlement, even though parts of this island continent were as empty as much of the Americas. Lucre drew them, not land, for the shipping distances were far longer and the diseases much more formidable, even in those parts of the continent where the natives were not yet any more advanced than the Red Indians. For those Europeans who wanted land, the Americas were closer and more welcoming. Those who were prepared to travel across half the world wanted something much more rewarding for their endeavours...
The Dutch, in the guise of their trading company, had little difficulty establishing the first European trading outposts in western Aururia. Mutual trade suited both Dutch and natives, profitable enough to thrive despite the first ravages of Aururian plagues across the world and the first of many Eurasian epidemics in Aururia.
The problems which the Dutch faced would derive from their rival Powers, not the natives. Rumours of gold spread even faster than the dying cough [Marnitja]. The Portuguese were the Power keenest to heed these rumours, and with the fortunate capture of a Dutch ship, received access to excellent charts, and were informed of the unprotected Fort Nassau. The temptation was overwhelming, the lust for gold insatiable, and Portugal launched the first strike in the European struggle for control of Aururia. There could hardly be a more telling omen of the fate that awaited the Land of Gold than that this blow had been delivered by one European power upon another...
--
[1] Of course Columbus was not the first to discover the Americas; for a start, they had already been discovered by the Americans themselves.
[2] The plants which are here called sweet peppers are pepperbushes (Tasmannia spp) from *Australia. They are not the historical plants which are called sweet peppers, bell peppers or capsicum (which allohistorically are usually called bell peppers or pimentos). Also unlike them, Tasmannia is very "hot"; the name "sweet pepper" came into use because the most widespread variety has an initially sweet taste, but an intense, hot aftertaste.
--
Thoughts?
Very impressively detailed as always! (Glad you noted the Columbus not discovering anything fact)
The level of detail and insight on the impacts and influence of the food and other introduced elements was incredibly well thought out and there's something unique about stuff being so naturalized in some cases its impacts are positive, rather than the usual negative and you explain it all very well.
That stuff about insidious impacts is very worrying, also nice details with the politics and the nation in disguise as a company, and the almost proxy was aspect to the whole affair. I wonder if guns are going to start being offered in case they come again.
The level of detail and insight on the impacts and influence of the food and other introduced elements was incredibly well thought out and there's something unique about stuff being so naturalized in some cases its impacts are positive, rather than the usual negative and you explain it all very well.
That stuff about insidious impacts is very worrying, also nice details with the politics and the nation in disguise as a company, and the almost proxy was aspect to the whole affair. I wonder if guns are going to start being offered in case they come again.
Things will get pretty interesting - the fact that Aururia has diseases of it's own even though the populace are susceptible to Eurasian diseases too, will probably mean that even though a lot of casualties might occur, Aururians will survive independent and won't get swamped by European settlers - who only tend to settle lands that are unoccupied or weakly inhabited but livable (example: accidentally all the native americans, but that is the smallpox's fault; partially South Africa since the bushmen were already ruined by the Bantu, this attempt wasn't successful)
bookwyrm
Doom of Public Libraries
- Location
- Wichita, Kansas
Nice unbiased view of the Dutch author on the Spanish in the Americas and the Company in Aururia. 
The Third World tradeposts might vie for the attention of the locals now, but give it a while and (just like India and the Interior of Africa) the potentates of Aururia would find that the convenient attendants had remarkably transformed into a yoke on their backs.
The Third World tradeposts might vie for the attention of the locals now, but give it a while and (just like India and the Interior of Africa) the potentates of Aururia would find that the convenient attendants had remarkably transformed into a yoke on their backs.
I'm always bemused by reports of European explorers who write that they discovered such-and-such a place, and the people who were already there were friendly or whatever. I'm always wondering why someone didn't ask "surely those people discovered it first?"
I figured that the Dutch would want to hold onto firearms for themselves as long as they can. Where things get intriguing is if there is unrest or the like within Aururia - do the Dutch want to arm the government or arm the rebels?
Much depends on the region, of course, but in many regions the "worst case" option (heritage-wise) is something like Mexico, where there ended up being a ruling class of mostly European descent, but where the majority of the population is of mixed or indigenous descent, and where the native languages persist to some degree.
More generally, when it comes to potential European migration, it helps to consider which countries actually had an outflow of migrants. Portugal had a large amount of emigration from their European territory to other regions - I think it was the largest in terms of percentage of their population. Britain (including Ireland for these purposes) had the largest emigration in absolute terms. Spain had a few migrants but a much lower percentage of their population. The Dutch had very few emigrants - their East India Company struggled to attract a few to the Cape, and mostly gave up efforts after that. The French had relatively low numbers too.
Even with those parameters, while British and Portuguese migrants went everywhere, by far the largest proportion of migrants went to what were deemed attractive destinations - North America and the Caribbean for the British, Brazil for the Portuguese. Other destinations attracted much less emigration. (Australia took a gold rush to attract significant numbers of voluntary emigrants, though it grew from there.) The British East India Company did not attract significant numbers of permanent migrants to its territories - the migrants tended to be people who showed up to make money and then go home. This was similar for most of the other European trading companies, with the partial exception of the Portuguese efforts (which weren't a trading company in the same way anyway).
So while the Aururians will inevitably face demographic collapse due to European diseases - the "best case" is 60-65% population loss, the worst case is around 90% - they may still well outnumber any potential European migrants. With some caveats about a few areas being possible exceptions, particularly if there are any where the Europeans get in charge and start importing slaves for cash crops, mining or the like.
I've always loved playing with unreliable/biased narrative voices and the like. This is most obvious in the "history book" sections, but it's something which should always be borne in mind even in the narrative sections - what's depicted may well be what the narrator believes, but that doesn't make it true.Nice unbiased view of the Dutch author on the Spanish in the Americas and the Company in Aururia.
Absolutely. It's already been shown how the King of Kings of the Atjuntja does not dare to shut off Dutch trade - if he does, he'll be missing a crown and probably a head. Similar considerations would apply to other regions of Aururia, as the Europeans reach them.
Hehehehe XD Good question!
Though in serious considerations, its probably because they didn't consider those people, well people.
Well that's incredibly depressing
It's horrible, but barring magical intervention, unavoidable. As long as there is contact between the "worlds", disease exchanges are unavoidable. Depending on the kind of contact, some particular diseases may not make the jump, but the majority will.Well that's incredibly depressing
Estimates vary wildly of exactly how bad it was, but something like 90% population decline in historical Australia between 1788 and 1900. Parts of the New World may have been even worse.
The 99% population decline figures which are sometimes thrown around are misguided . That was the worst part of what happened in some Mexican urban areas, from both diseases, slavery and mistreatment, and the toll in rural areas was not as bad (though still very high). But the tolls were massive.
For various reasons, having earlier contact with Australia is likely to make the population decline less bad. (Longer shipping distance and diseases being more spaced out, mostly - I may expand on this in another meta-post at some point.)
But even "less bad" is still somewhere between 60-80% population loss - horrific, but less than what happened historically.
The death was indeed sad, though for me it was the whole being taken over aspect which just clinched it, at least the disease thing was people mutually being screwed over by bad luck ya know XD
I did describe being taken over as the worst case. It's not guaranteed.
Oh thank goodness. Sorry I assumed the worst XD
Lands of Red and Gold #30: An Aururian Miscellany
Lands of Red and Gold #30: An Aururian Miscellany
This post is an assortment of disconnected parts which offer glimpses of some aspects of the LoRaGverse, but which aren't large enough to form an entire post in themselves, so they've been included together here.
--
October 1629
Crescent Bay, The Island [Kingscote, Kangaroo Island]
The last curve of the sun's fire glowed above the western horizon as the day began its descent into night, while in the east the first stars were emerging to complete that transformation. Almost directly overhead, the moon cast down its own incomplete light; this was the half-moon, perfectly balanced between the fading of the last new moon and emergence of the next full moon.
In short, a most auspicious time, a time of perfect balance in the endless cycles of the world. This was a time when a man could hear the harmony of the world reflected within himself, if his mind and soul were properly ordered, and when he could use that wisdom to guide himself during difficult decisions.
Lalgatja, elder of the Wolalta bloodline, needed a time such as this. Wisdom had always been the most valuable of commodities, and unlike anything else, he could not send out his trade captains to collect it. Guidance he needed, in this time when the Nangu were divided amongst themselves worse than any other time in living memory, with troubles afflicting the Island and the nearer parts of its hegemony, while an unknown people moved around the world in a way which could bring great profit or great destruction.
The last light of the sun faded into the west while Lalgatja contemplated, and his three senior captains waited in fitting silence. He had chosen this site at the western door of the Temple of the Five Winds, and the priests had wisely left them alone. As they should; with the generous gifts which the Wolalta had given to this temple, time for private contemplation was the least they deserved.
The Raw Men, he realised. It had all begun with them. The consequences of their arrival had rippled across most of the world, as consequences always did, but everything had begun with the Raw Men.
Thanks to the Raw Men, the Nangu bloodlines had fallen back into the old ways of feud and rivalry. The Raw Men had arrived at the western edge of the world, showed magnificent goods which drew the interest of every true-blooded Nangu... and then refused to trade with them!
Instead, the Raw Men had established trade with the Atjuntja, foolishly adhering to their pact with those bloodletting savages, and not sending their trade ships further east. A few of the Raw Men's goods had reached the Island after being traded on by the Atjuntja, but those few items which had come at great cost did nothing but arouse competitive passions amongst the bloodlines.
The Raw Men themselves had remained tantalisingly distant. Some of the bolder Nangu captains had sailed into the far west in the hope of discovering the Raw Men's homelands. Those voyages had ended in disappointment for the fortunate and death for the rest. The arguments over those voyages – particularly the bloodlines who suspected each other of destroying their ships – had begun the first of the feuds which now troubled the Island.
Other Nangu had sought to establish contact with the Raw Men via intermediaries, a course which risked arousing the anger of the King of Kings. One attempt had succeeded, that Lalgatja knew of; one of the Tjula captains had invited the Raw Men at their trading outpost to send a ship to visit the Island. That should have been a triumph for the Tjula, but once the other bloodlines had learned of this visit, the Manyilti had led a faction who blamed them for acting without the Council's approval, and threatening all trade with Tiayal. Another feud had been born out of that dispute, adding to the Island's troubles.
The Raw Men had eventually heeded the Tjula's call, sending a fleet of three ships to wander [ie explore] the seas, and visited the Island. One fleet only, with small quantities of valuable goods and only limited interest in trading [1]. The result had been endless disagreements among the Nangu, as the bloodlines competed in a most undignified manner to secure some of the Raw Men's goods.
That had been the first great warning, as far as Lalgatja had been concerned. He had ordered his captains not to trade with the Raw Men at all. His judgement had been that any price paid would be too expensive, and that being involved in the bargaining would only attract the hatred of other bloodlines.
Events had proved him right; more feuds had grown out of the Raw Men's visit than any of the earlier troubles. So far none of those feuds had turned into a full vendetta, but the risk remained. Especially with almost three years passing, and no sign whether the Raw Men would ever return. The bloodlines grew ever more fractious, with whispered rumours accusing others of warning off the Raw Men, or of concluding secret agreements for exclusive access.
Other troubles had followed in the wake of the Raw Men's visit. Disease had struck; a new malady called swelling-fever [mumps] which had first appeared amongst the Atjuntja, and then in time followed the trading ships back to the east.
Swelling-fever had struck first in the Seven Sisters [2], then on the Island. Many men had died of this new affliction. This had happened despite the best precautions of the Nangu, who had acted on the advice of Nakatta, elder of the Muwanna bloodline. Nakatta had advised of the need to quarantine any ship whose crew showed symptoms of the swelling-fever. That quarantine had been enforced, but the disease still spread to the Mutjing and then to the Nangu [3].
The failure of Nakatta's advice had discredited the Muwanna bloodline, but that had only been the start of the problems. The Lorekeeper, most senior elder in the Council, had been among the victims of the swelling-fever. With his departure to join his kin, the bloodlines had lost their most respected adjudicator, which had only worsened the feuds.
Trade had suffered, too. With the deaths of so many farmers amongst the Mutjing, the price of yams, wealth-grain [wattle seeds] and other foods had risen. That always made the Nangu uneasy. The Island depended on importing food from the Mutjing, and paying more for it cost trade goods which had to be obtained from elsewhere. So far, prices had not risen unbearably, but the fact that they had increased at all had worsened the tension amongst the bloodlines.
Even lesser events seemed to conspire to bring misfortune to the Island. From the mainland, word had come that the Yadji Regent [ie Emperor] was dead of the swelling-fever. Privately, Lalgatja suspected that the priests had simply used a convenient excuse to rid themselves of a mad Regent. Regardless of the reason, however, the Land of the Five Directions [ie Yadji lands] drifted leaderless while the priests squabbled among themselves.
Normally, chaos among the Yadji would have been a welcome sign that the security of the Island was being maintained. Not now, though, when it let Tjibarr consolidate its decade-old conquest of Jugara and the Copper Coast. The safety of the Island had always rested on the balance between the Yadji and Tjibarr, so that both of them were too busy looking at the other to threaten the Nangu, but it looked as if that might no longer hold. Worse, in the short-term, the unrest in the Yadji lands meant that their rulers were disinclined to trade, which wove another thread into the tapestry of Nangu troubles.
On the Cider Isle, worse than unrest had come; the Tjunini and Kurnawal had started another cycle in their endless war. Many times, such news would have had the trading captains flocking to their shores to profit from trading with both sides. Alas, this war had been more destructive than most, with cider gums deliberately burned by both sides, and gold mining curtailed while both sides focused on mining tin to make bronze for weapons. There was little worth trading for in the Cider Isle, until the war was done.
So, in the midst of this time of troubles, Lalgatja had come to seek wisdom, to chart a course for his bloodline through rough waters. The Island afflicted by disease and riven by feuds, the world growing unsettled, and the Raw Men both mysterious and enticing beyond the fringes of the world.
As he considered matters, he realised that he had already been given the most important insight. The Raw Men were the key. Know them, understand them, and the path would become clear. The other troubles would come and go, but they were merely ripples in the cosmos.
"We must reach the Raw Men properly," Lalgatja said, the first time he had spoken aloud since he reached the temple. "If they will not come to us, we must find a way to go to them."
With that invitation, his captains now knew that they could speak. If they had anything worth saying.
Werringi, the second-most senior captain, said, "We cannot reach the Raw Men if we sail west. Most of the other bloodlines had tried and failed, even with captains and crews whose skills are not to be despised."
Lalgatja said, "That truth we knew before coming here."
"The truth we knew, but not what follows from it. The Raw Men come from the west, but when they have traded with the Atjuntja, they do not sail west again."
Now, that was a new thought. If true. "Are you sure?"
"They go north. So agree those who have been to the White City," Werringi said. "And we all saw the ships which the Raw Men brought to the Island. They cannot sail into the wind as well as our ships can, even if they are faster with the wind behind them. If the western winds have defeated our captains, then the Raw Men must be sailing north."
Kunyana, the most senior captain, said, "That will not let us sail after them. To voyage along the western coast of Tiayal is difficult, since we cannot secure landfall without being asked very demanding questions. Our ships would have even more troubles if they wander beyond Atjuntja lands. Going north, it is easy to sail away but hard to sail back, which makes it very difficult to judge how far a ship can safely sail before turning back."
Werringi said, "So we must sail east first."
Lalgatja raised an eyebrow. "You would reach the Raw Men by sailing further away from them?"
"It is the route which the Raw Men took after visiting here. They would not have sailed there if they did not know that the voyage could be done."
Werringi stood, his enthusiasm carried in his voice as he spoke. "It would be a great voyage, but not an impossible one. I have sailed to the Spice Coast, to the Patjimunra lands [Hunter Valley, New South Wales] and even once to Daluming [Coffs Harbour]. That is the way which the Raw Men must have gone, and they would only have sailed there if they knew that they could find their homeland again. So I will take a ship east, then north, and sail west where I can, until I can find where the Raw Men go after they leave Tiayal."
Kunyana said, "Boldness is good, but suicide is not."
"It is the third path [ie decisiveness]," Werringi said. "This is a time of great change; we will not succeed by taking half-measures."
Lalgatja gestured for Werringi to sit again, then let them wait in silence while he thought. After a time, he said, "Do as you will, Werringi. I will not sanction your voyage, but neither will I oppose it. If you can persuade your crew to sail with you, and perhaps find another captain willing to take his ship with yours, then I will pray to Eagle for your success."
--
This section is a summary of the key domesticated Aururian plants and animals and what effects they might have on the rest of the world. This is not a comprehensive list of all such plants and animals; it only includes some of those which have potential to be exported to the rest of the world and make a significant difference there.
In this list, the allohistorical name is given first, if it differs from the historical name. Where there is more than one important allohistorical name, the name which is used is the one by which the plant or animal will be most widely known in English.
Staple Crops
Red yam (Dioscorea chelidonius) is a perennial vine which produces large, edible tubers, and for cooking purposes can be used much like a potato. It grows well in semi-arid conditions between latitudes of 25 to 45 degrees. Can grow in areas of higher rainfall, but does not tolerate waterlogged soils. Widely-grown throughout subtropical and temperate Aururia, and has excellent potential to be exported to other parts of the world. It will grow well in areas of Mediterranean climate and other mid-latitude regions, but will not grow in the tropics. It has a reasonably high agricultural yield, although on fertile, well-watered soils, crops such as potatoes would be superior.
Lesser yam (Dioscorea chelidonius var inferior) is a hybrid of the red yam and the related long yam (D. transversa). It has a lower yield than the red yam, and has higher water requirements, but unlike the red yam, it can grow in the tropics. The plant is cultivated mostly in the northern fringes of Aururian agriculture [east-central Queensland], but if exported, could grow well in many drier areas of the tropics.
Cornnarts / wattles (Acacia spp) are fast-growing trees which produce large quantities of edible, high-protein seeds and can be tapped to yield gum aururic [wattle gum]. As legumes, they also replenish soil nitrates. About ten species of cornnarts have been domesticated. Cornnarts are mostly suited for low-rainfall climates in the middle latitudes, although some of the domesticated species can grow in the tropics or cooler climates, and some can also tolerate higher rainfall.
Murnong (Microseris lanceolata) is a perennial crop which produces edible tubers, which are used similarly to red yams or potatoes. Murnong does not tolerate excessive heat, and in lowland regions it cannot be grown as close to the equator as the red yam. However, it is more tolerant of cooler climates, poorer soils and shorter growing seasons, and can be grown at higher latitudes than the red yam. It also does not have the red yam's problems with tropical day length, and can be grown in cool highlands within the tropics.
Dutch flax / native flax (Linum marginale) is an Aururian relative of common flax (L. usitatissimum). Like the Eurasian plant, it is used to make fibre (linen, textiles, rope), and its seeds are edible or can be used to create a form of linseed oil. It does not grow as large as common flax, but if carefully harvested it will regrow from its roots for up to five years without needing reseeding. If exported, it will need lower rainfall or need less irrigation than common flax, although it will not yield as much fibre per acre. This will allow expansion of textile production by allowing linen to be grown in wider areas, although the Aururian fibre is still quite similar to common flax, and lacks the flexibility of some other plant fibres (such as cotton).
Quandong (Santalum acuminatum) is a desert tree which produces large, sweet fruit (including an edible nut at the centre of each fruit). It has an odd habit of parasitising the roots of other trees, and so needs to be cultivated in mixed orchards with other trees. Choosing different host species produces different fruit flavours (cornnarts are normally used in Aururia). Grows well in hot, relatively arid regions, and would be suitable for cultivation around much of the world, particularly zones of Mediterranean climate.
Luto / bush pear (Marsdenia australis) is a desert vine where almost all of the plant is edible. The pear-shaped fruit has a sweet pulp and edible seeds. The leaves and stems are edible and used for flavouring. The vine also produces an edible root tuber. A drought-hardy species, the luto will grow even in relatively poor soils and semiarid climates throughout much of the world. In Aururia, it is nicknamed the "many vine" for the range of flavours which can be produced from its various parts, and some other countries will incorporate the luto into their cuisine when it is eventually exported.
Spices
Lemon verbena / lemon myrtle (Backhousia citriodora) is a tree whose leaves produce a sweet, strong lemony flavour. While it tolerates low levels of some nutrients, overall it needs better soils, warmer weather and higher rainfall than most Aururian plants. In pre-Houtmanian Aururia, lemon verbena's cultivation was largely confined to the subtropical eastern seaboard, but it was traded across the continent. Lemon verbena has considerable potential to be exported as a spice, and could be grown in areas of similar climate around much of the world. The potential is similar for several other spice trees which grow on the subtropical east coast, aniseed myrtle (Syzygium anisatum), cinnamon myrtle (Backhousia myrtifolia) and curry myrtle (B. angustifolia).
Sweet peppers / pepperbushes (Tasmannia spp) are shrubs whose leaves and especially berries have an intense peppery taste. All of the sweet pepper species tolerate reasonably poor soils and frosts. The most widespread species, common sweet peppers / Tasmanian peppers (T. lanceolata) is grown across much of the southern half of Aururia, although it often needs some small-scale irrigation. The hotter and more flavoursome species, bird-peppers / Dorrigo peppers (T. stipitata) and purple sweet peppers / broadleaf pepperbush (T. purpurascens) are restricted to small regions on the east coast. Sweet peppers have considerable potential for export; the common sweet pepper has, per weight, up to ten times the flavour of the more common black pepper (Piper nigrum), while the other species are even hotter.
Ovasecca / desert raisin (Solanum centrale) is a desert shrub related to the tomato, which produces a fruit with a taste reminiscent of tamarillo and caramel. The fruit conveniently dries while still on the stalk, making for easy transport and storage. The plant tolerates dry conditions and poor soils, but in the wild it only fruits after heavy rains; in cultivation this is mimicked by judicious irrigation. Ovasecca is cultivated in the Five Rivers and nearby areas as a condiment, and has the potential to be cultivated in semiarid regions around the world where there is access to irrigation.
White ginger / native ginger (Alpinia caerulea) is a shrub whose fruit, new shoots and tubers have gingery flavours. Native to the warmer areas of the eastern Aururian seaboard, it can be grown much more widely with irrigation. It is cultivated widely in the Five Rivers, and less commonly elsewhere, as a spice. White ginger can be cultivated in subtropical climates around the world with reasonable rainfall and/or irrigation, and has some potential as a spice for export.
Others
Kunduri / corkwood (Duboisia hopwoodii) is a shrub whose leaves contain high levels of nicotine and other alkaloids, and provide Aururia's drug of choice. The cultivated form of kunduri is grown in the Five Rivers, and is their most valuable export to the rest of the continent. Although Eurasians who first encounter kunduri will often find it too strong a drug (due to the elevated nicotine levels), it has very strong long-term potential for export and will influence the world (in several senses of the word). Kunduri could also be cultivated in subtropical arid or semiarid areas around the world (with irrigation).
Spanish indigo / native indigo (Indigofera australis) is a relative of true indigo (I. tinctoria), which produces a similar dye to the more familiar (to Eurasians) plant. Spanish indigo is more versatile than true indigo, since by various treatments to the leaves, it can produce not just the true indigo colour, but a brilliant yellow and a distinctive green. Spanish indigo was cultivated over most of the farming areas of Aururia in the pre-contact period [4]. The plant can grow in poorer soils and drier climes and further into subtropical latitudes than true indigo, and so has considerable potential both for export from Aururia and for cultivation around much of the world.
Jeeree / Lemon-scented teatree (Leptospermum petersonii) is a tree whose leaves produce an intense, lemony taste. It can tolerate reasonably poor soils, but needs reasonable rainfall and is sensitive to frost. In Aururia, it is grown almost exclusively on the eastern coast, where its leaves are used to make a lemon "tea" that is popular amongst all of the eastern cultures. It is not well-regarded in the rest of the continent. Jeeree has some potential for export as an exotic "tea", and can be cultivated in most subtropical latitudes where there is reasonable rainfall or access to irrigation.
Nooroon / emu (Dromaius novaehollandiae) is a large, flightless bird which is Aururia's prime domestic animal. A fast-growing bird, it is a useful source of meat, leather and feathers. In comparison to big Eurasian domestic animals (such as cattle), the nooroon is less efficient as a grazer, but when grain fed, produces more usable meat in proportion to the amount of grain. The nooroon has reasonable potential for export to subtropical and tropical latitudes, particularly since as a bird it is unaffected by some tropical diseases which afflict domesticated mammals.
Pole-cat / tiger quoll (Dasyurus maculatus) is a marsupial equivalent of the cat, domesticated to serve a similar rat-catching role. Pole-cats are widely distributed among the farming peoples of Aururia, who find them an invaluable asset for controlling native rodents and other pests. The pole-cat is not quite as efficient a rat-catcher as cats, but it still has some potential for export as an exotic pet, and it may also become an invasive species if introduced into some environments.
--
In Europe, the course of what another history would call the Thirty Years War would be changed by the ravages of Marnitja in 1628. At this time, the imperial forces under Albrecht von Wallenstein had made Christian IV of Denmark regret his intervention in the war, defeating the Danish allies and ultimately overrunning Jutland. To threaten the Danish capital on Zealand, though, the imperial forces needed a Baltic fleet, and plans were made to besiege the port of Stralsund.
The effects of Marnitja changed that. The preparations for besieging Stralsund were abandoned amidst the disruption. While both sides suffered casualties from the epidemic, the Danish forces were in a better position to liberate much of Jutland, since they could draw on local support while the imperial forces were operating on hostile territory.
A year of manoeuvring on Jutland followed, with a number of engagements which saw imperial forces pushed out of part of the peninsula, but never decisively defeated. By this point, both sides were inclined to seek peace. Diplomatic manoeuvring replaced its military counterpart, and by April 1630 the two sides had agreed on terms.
By the terms of the Treaty of Lübeck, Jutland and Royal Holstein were restored to Denmark, while the Duchy of Holstein was granted joint overlordship of Hamburg. Prince Ulric, a younger son of Christian IV, was named Prince-Bishop of Verden, and Bishop of Schwerin, and was designated as the heir of the Lutheran Prince-Archbishop of Bremen, when the current incumbent died. The Dukes of Mecklenburg were restored, including the estates which Wallenstein had confiscated. In exchange, Wallenstein was granted estates around Stettin in central Pomerania, which allowed him to collect tolls from trade along the River Oder. As part of the treaty, Christian IV agreed to withdraw all Danish forces from elsewhere in the Holy Roman Empire, and not to provide any further support to Protestants in Germany.
So, in April 1630, it appeared that the war which had begun eleven years earlier might finally come to an end.
Other events, though, changed that.
In Sweden, Gustavus Adolphus caught Marnitja in May 1630. He survived the pink cough, but now faced the prospect of waiting to see whether he would be claimed by a fevered delirium. Gustavus did not plan to wait passively for death to claim him, but decided that if he would die, he would leave a legacy behind. He wanted to make sure that his name would be remembered.
The previous year, Sweden had ended its war with Poland by signing a seven-year truce, the Truce of Altmark [5], which gave Sweden control of Livonia and some Baltic ports. Gustavus Adolphus was not inclined to break that truce in pursuit of further gains.
Instead, he looked south. As he saw it, the Protestant cause in Germany had been betrayed by Denmark, but here was an opportunity to secure his legacy. Germany was in chaos, the Protestants needed support, and glory beckoned. Swedish forces landed near Stettin in June 1630, with Gustavus Adolphus at their head and conquest on his mind. He knew that landing here would inevitably draw the forces of Wallenstein, the greatest surviving general of imperial forces, and hoped that defeating Wallenstein would rally Germany's Protestants under his banner.
Gustavus Adolphus did not just hope to secure glory through victory in Germany, though. By now, Europe was rife with rumours of the wealth to be found in colonies, with the Spanish long ago acquiring dominions in the Americas, and the Dutch finding a new fortune in the distant South Land. Gustavus Adolphus chartered a new company, based in Gothenburg, with orders to explore North America and find a suitable place for founding a new colony there that would bear his name...
--
[1] This was François Thijssen's 1626-7 voyage to Aururia and Aotearoa. He did not actually have limited interest in trading with the Nangu per se, but he had only limited samples of trade goods. He did not want to exchange them all with the first people he met, preferring to keep most of them if he encountered other peoples further east.
[2] The Seven Sisters [Eyre Peninsula, South Australia] is the name given to the Mutjing lands.
[3] The quarantine has failed because mumps produces a significant proportion of asymptomatic carriers, and some of them have carried the disease past the quarantine.
[4] Although, naturally, the pre-Houtmanian Aururians did not call the plant Spanish indigo.
[5] This truce was somewhat more generous to Sweden than the historical equivalent (which only lasted six years). Under the treaty, Sweden has control of Livonia, some coastal cities in Prussia, and a substantial share of the tolls from trade passing through Poland's Baltic ports.
--
Thoughts?
This post is an assortment of disconnected parts which offer glimpses of some aspects of the LoRaGverse, but which aren't large enough to form an entire post in themselves, so they've been included together here.
--
October 1629
Crescent Bay, The Island [Kingscote, Kangaroo Island]
The last curve of the sun's fire glowed above the western horizon as the day began its descent into night, while in the east the first stars were emerging to complete that transformation. Almost directly overhead, the moon cast down its own incomplete light; this was the half-moon, perfectly balanced between the fading of the last new moon and emergence of the next full moon.
In short, a most auspicious time, a time of perfect balance in the endless cycles of the world. This was a time when a man could hear the harmony of the world reflected within himself, if his mind and soul were properly ordered, and when he could use that wisdom to guide himself during difficult decisions.
Lalgatja, elder of the Wolalta bloodline, needed a time such as this. Wisdom had always been the most valuable of commodities, and unlike anything else, he could not send out his trade captains to collect it. Guidance he needed, in this time when the Nangu were divided amongst themselves worse than any other time in living memory, with troubles afflicting the Island and the nearer parts of its hegemony, while an unknown people moved around the world in a way which could bring great profit or great destruction.
The last light of the sun faded into the west while Lalgatja contemplated, and his three senior captains waited in fitting silence. He had chosen this site at the western door of the Temple of the Five Winds, and the priests had wisely left them alone. As they should; with the generous gifts which the Wolalta had given to this temple, time for private contemplation was the least they deserved.
The Raw Men, he realised. It had all begun with them. The consequences of their arrival had rippled across most of the world, as consequences always did, but everything had begun with the Raw Men.
Thanks to the Raw Men, the Nangu bloodlines had fallen back into the old ways of feud and rivalry. The Raw Men had arrived at the western edge of the world, showed magnificent goods which drew the interest of every true-blooded Nangu... and then refused to trade with them!
Instead, the Raw Men had established trade with the Atjuntja, foolishly adhering to their pact with those bloodletting savages, and not sending their trade ships further east. A few of the Raw Men's goods had reached the Island after being traded on by the Atjuntja, but those few items which had come at great cost did nothing but arouse competitive passions amongst the bloodlines.
The Raw Men themselves had remained tantalisingly distant. Some of the bolder Nangu captains had sailed into the far west in the hope of discovering the Raw Men's homelands. Those voyages had ended in disappointment for the fortunate and death for the rest. The arguments over those voyages – particularly the bloodlines who suspected each other of destroying their ships – had begun the first of the feuds which now troubled the Island.
Other Nangu had sought to establish contact with the Raw Men via intermediaries, a course which risked arousing the anger of the King of Kings. One attempt had succeeded, that Lalgatja knew of; one of the Tjula captains had invited the Raw Men at their trading outpost to send a ship to visit the Island. That should have been a triumph for the Tjula, but once the other bloodlines had learned of this visit, the Manyilti had led a faction who blamed them for acting without the Council's approval, and threatening all trade with Tiayal. Another feud had been born out of that dispute, adding to the Island's troubles.
The Raw Men had eventually heeded the Tjula's call, sending a fleet of three ships to wander [ie explore] the seas, and visited the Island. One fleet only, with small quantities of valuable goods and only limited interest in trading [1]. The result had been endless disagreements among the Nangu, as the bloodlines competed in a most undignified manner to secure some of the Raw Men's goods.
That had been the first great warning, as far as Lalgatja had been concerned. He had ordered his captains not to trade with the Raw Men at all. His judgement had been that any price paid would be too expensive, and that being involved in the bargaining would only attract the hatred of other bloodlines.
Events had proved him right; more feuds had grown out of the Raw Men's visit than any of the earlier troubles. So far none of those feuds had turned into a full vendetta, but the risk remained. Especially with almost three years passing, and no sign whether the Raw Men would ever return. The bloodlines grew ever more fractious, with whispered rumours accusing others of warning off the Raw Men, or of concluding secret agreements for exclusive access.
Other troubles had followed in the wake of the Raw Men's visit. Disease had struck; a new malady called swelling-fever [mumps] which had first appeared amongst the Atjuntja, and then in time followed the trading ships back to the east.
Swelling-fever had struck first in the Seven Sisters [2], then on the Island. Many men had died of this new affliction. This had happened despite the best precautions of the Nangu, who had acted on the advice of Nakatta, elder of the Muwanna bloodline. Nakatta had advised of the need to quarantine any ship whose crew showed symptoms of the swelling-fever. That quarantine had been enforced, but the disease still spread to the Mutjing and then to the Nangu [3].
The failure of Nakatta's advice had discredited the Muwanna bloodline, but that had only been the start of the problems. The Lorekeeper, most senior elder in the Council, had been among the victims of the swelling-fever. With his departure to join his kin, the bloodlines had lost their most respected adjudicator, which had only worsened the feuds.
Trade had suffered, too. With the deaths of so many farmers amongst the Mutjing, the price of yams, wealth-grain [wattle seeds] and other foods had risen. That always made the Nangu uneasy. The Island depended on importing food from the Mutjing, and paying more for it cost trade goods which had to be obtained from elsewhere. So far, prices had not risen unbearably, but the fact that they had increased at all had worsened the tension amongst the bloodlines.
Even lesser events seemed to conspire to bring misfortune to the Island. From the mainland, word had come that the Yadji Regent [ie Emperor] was dead of the swelling-fever. Privately, Lalgatja suspected that the priests had simply used a convenient excuse to rid themselves of a mad Regent. Regardless of the reason, however, the Land of the Five Directions [ie Yadji lands] drifted leaderless while the priests squabbled among themselves.
Normally, chaos among the Yadji would have been a welcome sign that the security of the Island was being maintained. Not now, though, when it let Tjibarr consolidate its decade-old conquest of Jugara and the Copper Coast. The safety of the Island had always rested on the balance between the Yadji and Tjibarr, so that both of them were too busy looking at the other to threaten the Nangu, but it looked as if that might no longer hold. Worse, in the short-term, the unrest in the Yadji lands meant that their rulers were disinclined to trade, which wove another thread into the tapestry of Nangu troubles.
On the Cider Isle, worse than unrest had come; the Tjunini and Kurnawal had started another cycle in their endless war. Many times, such news would have had the trading captains flocking to their shores to profit from trading with both sides. Alas, this war had been more destructive than most, with cider gums deliberately burned by both sides, and gold mining curtailed while both sides focused on mining tin to make bronze for weapons. There was little worth trading for in the Cider Isle, until the war was done.
So, in the midst of this time of troubles, Lalgatja had come to seek wisdom, to chart a course for his bloodline through rough waters. The Island afflicted by disease and riven by feuds, the world growing unsettled, and the Raw Men both mysterious and enticing beyond the fringes of the world.
As he considered matters, he realised that he had already been given the most important insight. The Raw Men were the key. Know them, understand them, and the path would become clear. The other troubles would come and go, but they were merely ripples in the cosmos.
"We must reach the Raw Men properly," Lalgatja said, the first time he had spoken aloud since he reached the temple. "If they will not come to us, we must find a way to go to them."
With that invitation, his captains now knew that they could speak. If they had anything worth saying.
Werringi, the second-most senior captain, said, "We cannot reach the Raw Men if we sail west. Most of the other bloodlines had tried and failed, even with captains and crews whose skills are not to be despised."
Lalgatja said, "That truth we knew before coming here."
"The truth we knew, but not what follows from it. The Raw Men come from the west, but when they have traded with the Atjuntja, they do not sail west again."
Now, that was a new thought. If true. "Are you sure?"
"They go north. So agree those who have been to the White City," Werringi said. "And we all saw the ships which the Raw Men brought to the Island. They cannot sail into the wind as well as our ships can, even if they are faster with the wind behind them. If the western winds have defeated our captains, then the Raw Men must be sailing north."
Kunyana, the most senior captain, said, "That will not let us sail after them. To voyage along the western coast of Tiayal is difficult, since we cannot secure landfall without being asked very demanding questions. Our ships would have even more troubles if they wander beyond Atjuntja lands. Going north, it is easy to sail away but hard to sail back, which makes it very difficult to judge how far a ship can safely sail before turning back."
Werringi said, "So we must sail east first."
Lalgatja raised an eyebrow. "You would reach the Raw Men by sailing further away from them?"
"It is the route which the Raw Men took after visiting here. They would not have sailed there if they did not know that the voyage could be done."
Werringi stood, his enthusiasm carried in his voice as he spoke. "It would be a great voyage, but not an impossible one. I have sailed to the Spice Coast, to the Patjimunra lands [Hunter Valley, New South Wales] and even once to Daluming [Coffs Harbour]. That is the way which the Raw Men must have gone, and they would only have sailed there if they knew that they could find their homeland again. So I will take a ship east, then north, and sail west where I can, until I can find where the Raw Men go after they leave Tiayal."
Kunyana said, "Boldness is good, but suicide is not."
"It is the third path [ie decisiveness]," Werringi said. "This is a time of great change; we will not succeed by taking half-measures."
Lalgatja gestured for Werringi to sit again, then let them wait in silence while he thought. After a time, he said, "Do as you will, Werringi. I will not sanction your voyage, but neither will I oppose it. If you can persuade your crew to sail with you, and perhaps find another captain willing to take his ship with yours, then I will pray to Eagle for your success."
--
This section is a summary of the key domesticated Aururian plants and animals and what effects they might have on the rest of the world. This is not a comprehensive list of all such plants and animals; it only includes some of those which have potential to be exported to the rest of the world and make a significant difference there.
In this list, the allohistorical name is given first, if it differs from the historical name. Where there is more than one important allohistorical name, the name which is used is the one by which the plant or animal will be most widely known in English.
Staple Crops
Red yam (Dioscorea chelidonius) is a perennial vine which produces large, edible tubers, and for cooking purposes can be used much like a potato. It grows well in semi-arid conditions between latitudes of 25 to 45 degrees. Can grow in areas of higher rainfall, but does not tolerate waterlogged soils. Widely-grown throughout subtropical and temperate Aururia, and has excellent potential to be exported to other parts of the world. It will grow well in areas of Mediterranean climate and other mid-latitude regions, but will not grow in the tropics. It has a reasonably high agricultural yield, although on fertile, well-watered soils, crops such as potatoes would be superior.
Lesser yam (Dioscorea chelidonius var inferior) is a hybrid of the red yam and the related long yam (D. transversa). It has a lower yield than the red yam, and has higher water requirements, but unlike the red yam, it can grow in the tropics. The plant is cultivated mostly in the northern fringes of Aururian agriculture [east-central Queensland], but if exported, could grow well in many drier areas of the tropics.
Cornnarts / wattles (Acacia spp) are fast-growing trees which produce large quantities of edible, high-protein seeds and can be tapped to yield gum aururic [wattle gum]. As legumes, they also replenish soil nitrates. About ten species of cornnarts have been domesticated. Cornnarts are mostly suited for low-rainfall climates in the middle latitudes, although some of the domesticated species can grow in the tropics or cooler climates, and some can also tolerate higher rainfall.
Murnong (Microseris lanceolata) is a perennial crop which produces edible tubers, which are used similarly to red yams or potatoes. Murnong does not tolerate excessive heat, and in lowland regions it cannot be grown as close to the equator as the red yam. However, it is more tolerant of cooler climates, poorer soils and shorter growing seasons, and can be grown at higher latitudes than the red yam. It also does not have the red yam's problems with tropical day length, and can be grown in cool highlands within the tropics.
Dutch flax / native flax (Linum marginale) is an Aururian relative of common flax (L. usitatissimum). Like the Eurasian plant, it is used to make fibre (linen, textiles, rope), and its seeds are edible or can be used to create a form of linseed oil. It does not grow as large as common flax, but if carefully harvested it will regrow from its roots for up to five years without needing reseeding. If exported, it will need lower rainfall or need less irrigation than common flax, although it will not yield as much fibre per acre. This will allow expansion of textile production by allowing linen to be grown in wider areas, although the Aururian fibre is still quite similar to common flax, and lacks the flexibility of some other plant fibres (such as cotton).
Quandong (Santalum acuminatum) is a desert tree which produces large, sweet fruit (including an edible nut at the centre of each fruit). It has an odd habit of parasitising the roots of other trees, and so needs to be cultivated in mixed orchards with other trees. Choosing different host species produces different fruit flavours (cornnarts are normally used in Aururia). Grows well in hot, relatively arid regions, and would be suitable for cultivation around much of the world, particularly zones of Mediterranean climate.
Luto / bush pear (Marsdenia australis) is a desert vine where almost all of the plant is edible. The pear-shaped fruit has a sweet pulp and edible seeds. The leaves and stems are edible and used for flavouring. The vine also produces an edible root tuber. A drought-hardy species, the luto will grow even in relatively poor soils and semiarid climates throughout much of the world. In Aururia, it is nicknamed the "many vine" for the range of flavours which can be produced from its various parts, and some other countries will incorporate the luto into their cuisine when it is eventually exported.
Spices
Lemon verbena / lemon myrtle (Backhousia citriodora) is a tree whose leaves produce a sweet, strong lemony flavour. While it tolerates low levels of some nutrients, overall it needs better soils, warmer weather and higher rainfall than most Aururian plants. In pre-Houtmanian Aururia, lemon verbena's cultivation was largely confined to the subtropical eastern seaboard, but it was traded across the continent. Lemon verbena has considerable potential to be exported as a spice, and could be grown in areas of similar climate around much of the world. The potential is similar for several other spice trees which grow on the subtropical east coast, aniseed myrtle (Syzygium anisatum), cinnamon myrtle (Backhousia myrtifolia) and curry myrtle (B. angustifolia).
Sweet peppers / pepperbushes (Tasmannia spp) are shrubs whose leaves and especially berries have an intense peppery taste. All of the sweet pepper species tolerate reasonably poor soils and frosts. The most widespread species, common sweet peppers / Tasmanian peppers (T. lanceolata) is grown across much of the southern half of Aururia, although it often needs some small-scale irrigation. The hotter and more flavoursome species, bird-peppers / Dorrigo peppers (T. stipitata) and purple sweet peppers / broadleaf pepperbush (T. purpurascens) are restricted to small regions on the east coast. Sweet peppers have considerable potential for export; the common sweet pepper has, per weight, up to ten times the flavour of the more common black pepper (Piper nigrum), while the other species are even hotter.
Ovasecca / desert raisin (Solanum centrale) is a desert shrub related to the tomato, which produces a fruit with a taste reminiscent of tamarillo and caramel. The fruit conveniently dries while still on the stalk, making for easy transport and storage. The plant tolerates dry conditions and poor soils, but in the wild it only fruits after heavy rains; in cultivation this is mimicked by judicious irrigation. Ovasecca is cultivated in the Five Rivers and nearby areas as a condiment, and has the potential to be cultivated in semiarid regions around the world where there is access to irrigation.
White ginger / native ginger (Alpinia caerulea) is a shrub whose fruit, new shoots and tubers have gingery flavours. Native to the warmer areas of the eastern Aururian seaboard, it can be grown much more widely with irrigation. It is cultivated widely in the Five Rivers, and less commonly elsewhere, as a spice. White ginger can be cultivated in subtropical climates around the world with reasonable rainfall and/or irrigation, and has some potential as a spice for export.
Others
Kunduri / corkwood (Duboisia hopwoodii) is a shrub whose leaves contain high levels of nicotine and other alkaloids, and provide Aururia's drug of choice. The cultivated form of kunduri is grown in the Five Rivers, and is their most valuable export to the rest of the continent. Although Eurasians who first encounter kunduri will often find it too strong a drug (due to the elevated nicotine levels), it has very strong long-term potential for export and will influence the world (in several senses of the word). Kunduri could also be cultivated in subtropical arid or semiarid areas around the world (with irrigation).
Spanish indigo / native indigo (Indigofera australis) is a relative of true indigo (I. tinctoria), which produces a similar dye to the more familiar (to Eurasians) plant. Spanish indigo is more versatile than true indigo, since by various treatments to the leaves, it can produce not just the true indigo colour, but a brilliant yellow and a distinctive green. Spanish indigo was cultivated over most of the farming areas of Aururia in the pre-contact period [4]. The plant can grow in poorer soils and drier climes and further into subtropical latitudes than true indigo, and so has considerable potential both for export from Aururia and for cultivation around much of the world.
Jeeree / Lemon-scented teatree (Leptospermum petersonii) is a tree whose leaves produce an intense, lemony taste. It can tolerate reasonably poor soils, but needs reasonable rainfall and is sensitive to frost. In Aururia, it is grown almost exclusively on the eastern coast, where its leaves are used to make a lemon "tea" that is popular amongst all of the eastern cultures. It is not well-regarded in the rest of the continent. Jeeree has some potential for export as an exotic "tea", and can be cultivated in most subtropical latitudes where there is reasonable rainfall or access to irrigation.
Nooroon / emu (Dromaius novaehollandiae) is a large, flightless bird which is Aururia's prime domestic animal. A fast-growing bird, it is a useful source of meat, leather and feathers. In comparison to big Eurasian domestic animals (such as cattle), the nooroon is less efficient as a grazer, but when grain fed, produces more usable meat in proportion to the amount of grain. The nooroon has reasonable potential for export to subtropical and tropical latitudes, particularly since as a bird it is unaffected by some tropical diseases which afflict domesticated mammals.
Pole-cat / tiger quoll (Dasyurus maculatus) is a marsupial equivalent of the cat, domesticated to serve a similar rat-catching role. Pole-cats are widely distributed among the farming peoples of Aururia, who find them an invaluable asset for controlling native rodents and other pests. The pole-cat is not quite as efficient a rat-catcher as cats, but it still has some potential for export as an exotic pet, and it may also become an invasive species if introduced into some environments.
--
In Europe, the course of what another history would call the Thirty Years War would be changed by the ravages of Marnitja in 1628. At this time, the imperial forces under Albrecht von Wallenstein had made Christian IV of Denmark regret his intervention in the war, defeating the Danish allies and ultimately overrunning Jutland. To threaten the Danish capital on Zealand, though, the imperial forces needed a Baltic fleet, and plans were made to besiege the port of Stralsund.
The effects of Marnitja changed that. The preparations for besieging Stralsund were abandoned amidst the disruption. While both sides suffered casualties from the epidemic, the Danish forces were in a better position to liberate much of Jutland, since they could draw on local support while the imperial forces were operating on hostile territory.
A year of manoeuvring on Jutland followed, with a number of engagements which saw imperial forces pushed out of part of the peninsula, but never decisively defeated. By this point, both sides were inclined to seek peace. Diplomatic manoeuvring replaced its military counterpart, and by April 1630 the two sides had agreed on terms.
By the terms of the Treaty of Lübeck, Jutland and Royal Holstein were restored to Denmark, while the Duchy of Holstein was granted joint overlordship of Hamburg. Prince Ulric, a younger son of Christian IV, was named Prince-Bishop of Verden, and Bishop of Schwerin, and was designated as the heir of the Lutheran Prince-Archbishop of Bremen, when the current incumbent died. The Dukes of Mecklenburg were restored, including the estates which Wallenstein had confiscated. In exchange, Wallenstein was granted estates around Stettin in central Pomerania, which allowed him to collect tolls from trade along the River Oder. As part of the treaty, Christian IV agreed to withdraw all Danish forces from elsewhere in the Holy Roman Empire, and not to provide any further support to Protestants in Germany.
So, in April 1630, it appeared that the war which had begun eleven years earlier might finally come to an end.
Other events, though, changed that.
In Sweden, Gustavus Adolphus caught Marnitja in May 1630. He survived the pink cough, but now faced the prospect of waiting to see whether he would be claimed by a fevered delirium. Gustavus did not plan to wait passively for death to claim him, but decided that if he would die, he would leave a legacy behind. He wanted to make sure that his name would be remembered.
The previous year, Sweden had ended its war with Poland by signing a seven-year truce, the Truce of Altmark [5], which gave Sweden control of Livonia and some Baltic ports. Gustavus Adolphus was not inclined to break that truce in pursuit of further gains.
Instead, he looked south. As he saw it, the Protestant cause in Germany had been betrayed by Denmark, but here was an opportunity to secure his legacy. Germany was in chaos, the Protestants needed support, and glory beckoned. Swedish forces landed near Stettin in June 1630, with Gustavus Adolphus at their head and conquest on his mind. He knew that landing here would inevitably draw the forces of Wallenstein, the greatest surviving general of imperial forces, and hoped that defeating Wallenstein would rally Germany's Protestants under his banner.
Gustavus Adolphus did not just hope to secure glory through victory in Germany, though. By now, Europe was rife with rumours of the wealth to be found in colonies, with the Spanish long ago acquiring dominions in the Americas, and the Dutch finding a new fortune in the distant South Land. Gustavus Adolphus chartered a new company, based in Gothenburg, with orders to explore North America and find a suitable place for founding a new colony there that would bear his name...
--
[1] This was François Thijssen's 1626-7 voyage to Aururia and Aotearoa. He did not actually have limited interest in trading with the Nangu per se, but he had only limited samples of trade goods. He did not want to exchange them all with the first people he met, preferring to keep most of them if he encountered other peoples further east.
[2] The Seven Sisters [Eyre Peninsula, South Australia] is the name given to the Mutjing lands.
[3] The quarantine has failed because mumps produces a significant proportion of asymptomatic carriers, and some of them have carried the disease past the quarantine.
[4] Although, naturally, the pre-Houtmanian Aururians did not call the plant Spanish indigo.
[5] This truce was somewhat more generous to Sweden than the historical equivalent (which only lasted six years). Under the treaty, Sweden has control of Livonia, some coastal cities in Prussia, and a substantial share of the tolls from trade passing through Poland's Baltic ports.
--
Thoughts?
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Fascinating stuff as always!
The central section regarding plants and spices really emphasizes the sheer level of scope, detail and effort that goes into this, kudos!
I found the latter sections very informative and intriguing, but the owner was definitely my stand out favorite, the outsider, outsider perspective was really well conveyed, the ideas and impacts well thought out and the potential results intriguing!
The central section regarding plants and spices really emphasizes the sheer level of scope, detail and effort that goes into this, kudos!
I found the latter sections very informative and intriguing, but the owner was definitely my stand out favorite, the outsider, outsider perspective was really well conveyed, the ideas and impacts well thought out and the potential results intriguing!
I just got an idea while looking at aboriginal language statistics - diseases are absolutely devastating, but what sent them into irreparable ruin was the lack of "state-extentionary means". OTL the aborigines were divided into tiny tribes due to the fact that other than on foot, it's impossible to transmit information (and therefore, administrate), each tribe spoke their own language and after the diseases and the ensuing mess - there is not a single aboriginal language with over 1 million speakers - sad!
But, i got an idea for a replacement state extender - the dog-chariot. It's unironically a dog sled on wheels and functions almost indentically. Why did nobody think of that before? Tell the King of Kings i'll accept gold as payment
But, i got an idea for a replacement state extender - the dog-chariot. It's unironically a dog sled on wheels and functions almost indentically. Why did nobody think of that before? Tell the King of Kings i'll accept gold as payment
Thanks for catching that - I've fixed it.
I do find Nangu scenes fun to write, because they have a perspective which is both alien and familiar at the same time.
Depending on which estimate you accept for pre-1788 population, there may not have been 1 million Aboriginal people in total. Of course, the linguistic diversity of Australia was not exceptional - other regions also had considerable linguistic diversity until the rise of large states. Even today China, for instance, has ~300 living languages and many more which we know of that were lost during the formation and expansion of the Chinese state. North America had a wide variety of languages spoken before European arrival, and so forth.
They do use dog-sleds and travois which can be pulled either by humans or dogs. These have the advantage of being able to work on or off roads - in terrain where wheels often get stuck. The Atjuntja road network is about the only one on the continent that lacks wheels but is extensive enough to benefit from them. (The Yadji in the east have wheels.) The Atjuntja road network is a relatively new thing, and no doubt someone would have invented wheels eventually, if not borrowed them from the Yadji. With European contact, they do now have the inspiration, though they also have other problems to worry about.
Lands of Red and Gold #31: The Lord’s Will
Lands of Red and Gold #31: The Lord's Will
Note: This chapter involves some descriptions of military action in Tiayal (alt-Western Australia). This action may be easier to follow by referring to the map of Tiayal provided earlier in this post.
--
"You are to proceed to the southward in order to make discovery of the continent abovementioned [Aururia] until you arrive in the latitude of 40 degrees, unless you sooner fall in with it. But not having discovered it or any evident signs of it in that run, you are to proceed in search of it to the eastward between the latitude before mentioned and the latitude of 35 degrees until you discover it."
- Instructions issued to William Baffin by the Directors of the East India Trading Company in July 1635, prior to his first expedition to Aururia
--
Summer, 29th Year of King of Kings Kepiuc Tjaanuc [December 1631-February 1632]
Milgawee (White City) [Albany, Western Australia]
Tiayal (the Middle Country) [western coast of Australia]
Water, water everywhere. Not plunging uncontrollably from the sky, or bubbling from the secret places beneath the earth, but flowing according to the desires and for the pleasures of men.
Or were these bearded Atjuntja truly men? Might they not be spirit beings who lived in the Dreamtime as much as in the present time?
Attapatta, chief of the Wurrukurr, could not decide the answer to those questions, much as he wondered. Before he had come to Milgawee, he had been confident that these Atjuntja were men like any others, even if possessed of different Dreamings [1].
The Atjuntja knew different skills than the desert-dwelling Wurrukurr [2], but they still had their limits. Or so it had seemed. He had been invited to some of their smaller cities, earlier in his life, and seen that the Atjuntja had different knowledge. The Atjuntja could work metals and make food grow from within the earth, but they did not know how to listen to the world around them and were almost incapable of hunting properly.
Now, though, he had seen Milgawee, the place of stone and water and boundless vegetation, and he could not decide whether these Atjuntja were truly men. The first time he had seen an Atjuntja city, he had called it a big place, but the local Atjuntja had just laughed. Now that he had seen the place they called the Centre of Time, he understood their reactions.
Here at Milgawee, it was as if the Dreamtime still endured, where the ancient spirit beings had never stopped their work of shaping the earth. Here walked men – or perhaps more-than-men – who had the powers to call forth stone and water according to their desires.
And they had welcomed him! The Wurrukurr came from a hotter and harsher land, where the sun burned brighter and water was life. Attapatta had guided his people through the challenges of that life, but he had never expected to be welcomed by spirit beings.
Attapatta had been given rooms in their palace to live, and gifts of iron and clothes made of linen. Those were marvellous enough. The Atjuntja had even called him one of the blessed, who was permitted to hear the voice of their great ruler, the Many-King [3] who commanded all of the spirits of this place.
Still, for all of these wonders, nothing matched the Garden. Here, the sounds of water were everywhere. Here was a truly sacred place created by the most powerful of Dreaming. Back in the hot lands of his home, the growth of plants was a rare, infrequent thing, in a land which had been baked red. In the Garden, though, water flowed everywhere, and the growth of plants was commanded entirely at the wishes of the Atjuntja.
Here, too, was where Attapatta had been invited to meet with Lerunna Mundi, the voice of the Many-King, to discuss whatever reason they had for inviting him to travel so far.
Lerunna said, "Your Wurrukurr people follow your lead, I know. How much do your neighbours heed your words?"
Attapatta frowned, trying to follow the import of the question. He said, "I am chief, not a... king. All of the Wurrukurr elders have a voice, and our people will listen to them. As for our neighbours, we talk with them, but no-one can command another people. They do as they wish in their country, as we do in ours."
Lerunna said, "So long as you talk with them, that is enough for his exalted majesty's wishes."
"Of course we talk with them. A people should always heed their neighbours."
Lerunna smiled. A normal expression if he was a man; perhaps the same held true for spirit beings. "His exalted majesty offers you gifts – iron knives and tools, linen and kunduri."
"What does the Many-King want from us, that he offers such gifts?" Attapatta said. He knew that desire stirred in his voice; the gifts which he had already received were incredible.
"Your scouting, and your warning. His exalted majesty knows that the Wurrukurr know how to move through the red lands [desert] without being seen, when you need. He asks that you send word to our soldiers if you or your neighbours learn of ships coming from the sea."
"Ships?" Attapatta said.
"The ships of the Raw Men, who come out of the sunset."
"Ah," Attapatta said. He had heard word of this from the Atjuntja near his homeland, although he had never seen a ship himself.
"There are two kinds of Raw Men. The Nedlandj [Dutch] are our sometimes friends. Tell us if they come. The other kind are called the Pannidj, and they are our enemies. Do not threaten them, for their weapons are powerful. But his exalted majesty wants to know if their ships come. If they try to build outposts in your country, send word to us, and his exalted majesty's soldiers will capture the Pannidj for you."
"If they are so powerful, we should be wary of their anger," Attapatta said.
Lerunna said, "The Pannidj can be killed. His exalted majesty's soldiers killed them when they attacked our friends the Nedlandj. But we will need your people to guide us. You know the red lands better than anyone, and you can bring our soldiers close to the Pannidj without being seen. If they come, we will defeat them."
An easy proposition, as far as Attapatta was concerned. The risks lay with the Atjuntja, not with his own people. "It is agreed," he said.
--
From: "The United East India Company [Dutch East India Company]: Reflections on the Golden Age"
By Alexander Boniface
The first decade of the Company's deeds in Aururia was shaped by priorities set elsewhere in the world. Company merchants acquired Atjuntja gold and sandalwood as an excellent source of wealth, but they spent the profits of that trade elsewhere.
During the tenure of Governor-General Coen, the Company's efforts in the Far East were focused on building up an inter-Asian trading network whose profits would supply the spice trade to Europe. Aururian gold provided the capital to finance this trading expansion, but for the first ten years, Aururia itself formed only an isolated outpost on that trading network.
In particular, under Coen's leadership the Company did not seek to become deeply involved with the Atjuntja. Despite the consternation caused in Europe by accounts of Atjuntja religious practices – often exaggerated, but the reality was bad enough – or the frustration of Atjuntja trading restrictions, Coen did not wish any disruption to such a valuable source of gold.
So for the first few years, the Company simply traded with the Atjuntja and complied with most of their restrictions. Where convenience allowed and the risk was low, the Company did ignore their treaty obligations, such as by sending ships to explore further east in Aururia. Blatant interference, however, remained forbidden...
A variety of factors combined to change the course of the Company's involvement in Aururia. With the passing of Jan Coen in July 1631, the prime focus was no longer building up inter-Asian shipping; a task which had in any case been largely completed by that time. His successor Hendrik Brouwer had a much greater interest in exploration of new markets and trade goods.
Aururia offered an inviting temptation for renewed exploration. François Thijssen's voyage [in 1626-27] had offered tantalising hints of the potential new markets which could be found there. Action on these hints had been delayed by Coen's Asian focus, and the chaos caused in Europe by the first sweating sleep [Marnitja] epidemic meant that no-one in the Netherlands had overruled him. With Coen gone and the situation in Europe stabilising, further exploration of Aururia became a much higher priority.
Concerns about the security of their Aururian outposts also became an increasing source of friction between the Company and the Atjuntja. The Spanish raid on Fort Nassau in 1631 exacerbated these underlying tensions, since the Company now wished to fortify and garrison their outposts properly, but the Atjuntja administrators refused to allow fortifications.
The infamous demand of the Atjuntja governor Namaidera [Namai Urdera] for Dutch sacrificial victims has been much-cited as bringing about the collision between Company and Atjuntja interests, but in truth this was but one symptom of an underlying conflict. Eurasian diseases and rats were causing increasing problems in Tiayal, and the flood of Old World trade goods caused economic disruption amongst the local aristocracy.
With such growing sources of friction, it was inevitable that the Company would need to take more active involvement in Aururia. The critical moment came in 1632, in the aftermath of a new wave of disease, when the first epidemic of chickenpox swept across Tiayal...
--
The man called Nyumbin would become one of the most disputed figures in accounts of Aururian history, and indeed across the world. Over the centuries, a plethora of writers, historians, social activists, nationalists, revolutionaries and other figures would depict their own views of Nyumbin. Many would cite him as inspiration for their own deeds, many would condemn his actions, while a few offered a more nuanced view of his life and deeds.
To some, Nyumbin would be seen as the first great Aururian patriot, a cultural hero who offered the first resistance to foreign influence. Others would see him merely as a nationalistic rebel, fighting for the Inayaki people against the Atjuntja, while being totally ignorant of the wider clash between Europeans and Aururians. Still others would view him as simply an aristocratic opportunist, who sought to take advantage of the arrival of the Dutch to obtain greater personal wealth and power by replacing Atjuntja rule with his own.
In time, Nyumbin would be viewed by some as a bloodthirsty would-be tyrant who sought to oppress everyone. Some would see him as a traitor whose rebellion allowed the Dutch to impose control over the Atjuntja. Others would see him as an avatar of the Lord, sent to bring bloodshed and chaos into the mortal realms. A few more controversial historians would see him as demonstrating the first stirring of class-consciousness in Aururia.
In the welter of accounts, the truth about Nyumbin is almost impossible to discern. Still, some facts are relatively undisputed. Nyumbin was born into one of the old Inayaki noble families. As was so often the case, his family had been partially assimilated into the Atjuntja hierarchy, and were recognised as noble, but they preserved their own language and something of a separate sense of culture.
Of the man's appearance and character, the tales naturally vary, but through all accounts, some features are often highlighted. Nyumbin was a man of dark skin even by the standards of Tiayal, with the black hair that was so expected of Atjuntja nobility, but rarer amongst their subject peoples such as the Inayaki. He is reliably reported as a man who kept himself in prime physical condition: tall, well-muscled, flexible, and an expert with sword or spear.
One seemingly minor point about his appearance will cause endless acrimony amongst scholars and in popular culture. Some descriptions of Nyumbin assert that he never wore the full beard so heavily associated with Atjuntja nobility, that he had always kept himself clean-shaven to distinguish himself from the Atjuntja overlords. Other descriptions claim that he had worn a full beard to fit with Atjuntja expectations – as did most of the other semi-assimilated nobility in the subject peoples – and that he only shaved his beard when he began his great rebellion. The point matters greatly to those who view him as a lifelong patriot and nationalist, or to those who see him as a mere opportunist, but it will never be truly settled.
Whatever else Nyumbin may have been, he was certainly a gifted military tactician and a charismatic leader. Even hostile accounts of his life usually agree that he was a man of immense personal presence and charm, with an extremely persuasive way of speaking. His military talents were demonstrated first when he acted for the Atjuntja to lead raids against eastern desert peoples who had started to impinge into farming lands during times of drought [4]. In time, they would be demonstrated when he acted against the Atjuntja.
Nyumbin's deeds were ostensibly triggered by the passage of the chickenpox epidemic which swept through Tiayal in 1632 and claimed the life of the King of Kings, Kepiuc Tjaanuc. Certainly, he must have had some motivations which had been building for longer than that, but which of these reasons is seen as his true motivation depends on which later figure is offering an account of his life.
It is known that Nyumbin had some resentment of the main Atjuntja noble merchants who came from the White City to trade with the Dutch at Fort Nassau. The Atjuntja aristocracy controlled the supply of gold which was the most valuable good to trade with the Dutch. Nyumbin and the other non-Atjuntja nobles had to trade using lesser goods such as sandalwood and sweet peppers, and it was a source of offence that he was not treated as being as good as an Atjuntja noble.
Nyumbin may also have had a personal hatred of the local Atjuntja governor, Namai Urdera. Many stories will describe quarrels between the two. Some of those are undoubted later embellishments, but it is known that Nyumbin did not have a good opinion of the Atjuntja governor.
Nyumbin would certainly have been aware of the increasing discontent among the populace, due to inflexible Atjuntja tribute demands – or oppression, as some would later call it. The Atjuntja had long maintained a system of tribute and labour drafts on their subjects, based on carefully-calculated census records.
The tribute payments were usually set at a level which farmers and workers could pay without too much difficulty. Infestations of introduced rats consumed many farmers' harvests, and the deaths from Eurasian diseases cut into the available labour both for farming and for meeting Atjuntja labour draft requirements.
Fearful of arousing the wrath of the King of Kings, Atjuntja governors did not lower their demands for tribute or labour. As farming yields declined, the populace were increasingly hard-pressed to meet the Atjuntja requirements. The farmers were placed under the greater pressure, but by some reports even the local nobility were feeling the strain. Some later sources will conclude that Nyumbin wanted to lift the oppression of the people, some will assert that he feared for the loss of his own wealth, and some will claim that he cared nothing for the suffering of the people.
Whatever his reasons, Nyumbin would lead the greatest rebellion which had been seen in Tiayal since the earliest days of the Atjuntja empire.
Nyumbin launched his rebellion in May 1632. He acted two weeks after word came of the death of the King of Kings, when the Atjuntja governors had gone to the capital to attend his funeral, and before the kings [5] in the White City could decide which of the many sons of Kepiuc Tjaanuc most deserved the imperial dignity. Whether by intelligence or good fortune, his timing was impeccable. Late May marked the start of the campaigning season, when workers had finished the harvests and would normally be called to serve on labour drafts for the next three months [6].
Nyumbin called on these workers to fight instead, in the name of the Inayaki and the Djarwari peoples. He found plenty of volunteer militia to supplement his own personal troops. He put his rebel troops to immediate use, gathering them around the garrison-city of Archers Nest and storming it using a combination of surprise and well-crafted ladders. The captured Atjuntja, both soldiers and non-combatants, were massacred, except for a few of noble blood who were kept as hostages. The Dutch at Fort Nassau maintained a wary neutrality, and he ignored them as posing no threat.
Following this success, Nyumbin marched east to capture the major garrison-city of Verdant Valley [7]. In the absence of the governor, who perhaps would have been more judicious, the local military commander decided to engage Nyumbin's numerically superior forces outside the city's walls, rather than settling into a defensive siege.
The Atjuntja commander trusted his troops' discipline and superior armour to carry the day, but Nyumbin relied on a tactic he had learned when desert hunter-gatherers used against him: feigned retreat. He used his best-trained personal troops to stage an apparent retreat, and then others hit the pursuing Atjuntja in the flank. The Atjuntja army broke and fled the field, leaving Nyumbin's forces to occupy Verdant Valley, where he conducted a similar massacre of all Atjuntja within its walls.
In the space of two weeks, Nyumbin had captured two Atjuntja garrison-cities, when even capturing one had been a rare feat in previous rebellions. These triumphs attracted a flood of support for Nyumbin's cause, both from peasants and other non-Atjuntja nobles.
Nyumbin sent some of his newly-raised troops east to capture the next major garrison-city of Spear Mountain, although that venture simply resulted in a long siege which would eventually be abandoned when word reached the besiegers of events elsewhere. However, the presence of those troops meant that the Atjuntja dominions were now cut in half, since the rebels controlled all the major roads north.
Leaving his eastern forces to continue the siege of Spear Mountain, Nyumbin marched northwest to the next major northern garrison-city, Lobster Waters. The commander here had the good sense to avoid battle too, with his troops defending the walls instead. However, they were betrayed from within, thanks to some local Inayaki servants who opened one of the smaller gates during the night, allowing the rebels into the city. This time, Nyumbin ordered only the soldiers killed, and spared the non-combatant Atjuntja to act as hostages, too.
Nyumbin's triple success at capturing garrison-cities and victories in the open field naturally provoked terror in the White City. No rebel leader before had been so successful. However, the capture of Lobster Waters did not give the same boost to Nyumbin's cause as his previous victories. He had already attracted most of the available support from the Inayaki and Djarawari subject peoples. The Binyin people who lived further north were much less inclined to support him, thanks to a legacy of old hatreds and fear that they would simply be replacing Atjuntja dominion with Inayaki overlordship.
Without additional support, Nyumbin was forced to return south to prepare for any Atjuntja counter-attacks. While he had gained control of considerable territory, the bulk of the Atjuntja armies were further south and east, in their old heartland. They did not march quickly to oppose him, but their threat remained significant.
With his return to Archers Nest, Nyumbin had three choices. He could march south to try to capture the next coastal garrison-city of Corram Yibbal, although a siege risked becoming bogged down. He could go east to Verdant Valley and then take the major road to the White City, which was sure to bring about battle with the main Atjuntja armies. Or he could remain where he was, consolidate his control over his territory, and stage some meaningless negotiations with the Atjuntja while he tried to train and equip his soldiers up to Atjuntja standards.
In the end, Nyumbin chose a middle course, opening negotiations with the Atjuntja over the possibility of recognition of his conquests, while he sent a portion of his forces south to besiege Corram Yibbal. The Atjuntja nobility sent representatives to conduct a pretence of discussing terms, but neither side treated these negotiations as anything other than a delaying tactic. The Atjuntja rarely bargained with rebels – and then only when they could find religious justification – but they welcomed the chance for a truce while they settled their own arguments about who should become the next King of Kings.
The rebels and imperial forces clashed several times while these negotiations were taking place, but Nyumbin himself did not take the field until early in 1633, when he apparently felt confident enough to march on the White City. There were Atjuntja forts along the way, each of which would take some time to capture.
Nyumbin never reached the White City. While he was besieging the third Atjuntja fort on the road there, he received word of disaster in his rear. Atjuntja troops had landed by sea, supported by men armed with strange thunder-weapons [ie cannon] that broke men and stone with equal ease. Archers Nest and Verdant Valley were quickly recaptured by imperial troops, destroying his supply lines.
Nyumbin was forced to withdraw back toward Verdant Valley, only to be caught between imperial forces advancing from both directions. He accepted battle against the odds, and his rebels were systematically cut to pieces by Atjuntja soldiers. Nyumbin himself died in battle, preferring that fate to capture. His last words, according to most accounts, were to curse the Raw Men whose ships and thunder had brought about his failure.
--
From: "The United East India Company: Reflections on the Golden Age"
By Alexander Boniface
In the aftermath of Nyumbin's rebellion, the Company was quick to collect on the debt owed by the Atjuntja government. They were granted permission to establish a third trading outpost, which would later become Coenstad [Esperance, Western Australia]. All restrictions on fortifying and garrisoning their outposts were lifted. The Company obtained the right to sail east of Tiayal, although this was merely acknowledgement of a practice which had already begun.
Further concessions followed, inevitably. Ostensibly little had changed after Nyumbin's rebellion, since there was again an undisputed King of Kings ruling over Tiayal. In truth, the Company had been handed a wedge which it was quick to apply. The efficiency of Dutch shipping had been demonstrated, and the Atjuntja nobles continued to clamour for unrestricted trade.
With those advantages, it took only a handful of years for the Company to demand unrestricted trade access, with the right to visit any Atjuntja port and trade in any goods they desired. For the Atjuntja monarchy, this had short-term benefits, since it placated an increasingly unruly aristocracy. In the long-term, though, it would benefit only the Company, since it disrupted the previous land-based Atjuntja internal trade networks, and destroyed the careful control of resource production which had been maintained by the Kings of Kings...
--
Third Harvest Season, 1st Year of King of Kings Manyal Tjaanuc [April 1633]
Milgawee (White City) [Albany, Western Australia]
Tiayal (the Middle Country) [western coast of Australia]
Silence around him, at least as far as sounds carry to his ears. Namai Urdera lies in the centre of the public arena of the House of Pain, with twenty thousand people watching him, but he hears no noise save for a faint whispering on the breeze.
He has been placed on a raised wooden platform, his wrists and ankles chained to four stakes. There is not much spare movement in the chains; his arms and legs are both spread wide. He has been left only a loincloth to wear, although he does his best to bear himself with dignity. His beard and head have been shaved, silent testament to the fact that this is no ordinary sacrifice.
It is an execution.
Namai has been condemned for failing to secure sacrifices from the Nedlandj, and for failing to prevent the rebellion of that infuriating man Nyumbin. He did volunteer to be sacrificed to the death, but that does not erase the condemnation. The King of Kings' blessing has been withdrawn; Namai is no longer permitted to hear his voice or speak directly to him.
Namai would not argue with the new King of Kings' decision, even if he could. The Lord has been greatly angered, with what He has inflicted on the Atjuntja; only blood can answer the call. Namai does think, though, that his sacrifice will not be enough. Given the magnitude of the disasters, only royal blood can appease the Lord. The new King of Kings has about fifty surviving brothers. One or more of them must be sacrificed to the death.
A shadow passes above him. The Appeaser is ready. No words are spoken, for none are needed.
Namai does not know exactly what is coming, since every Appeaser has his own methods. He knows enough, though, after watching countless sacrifices, and now he will become one.
The first cut is faint, oh so faint. Barely a touch of the knife. The second is slightly deeper, on the other side. The third cut is shallow, too, as far as he can tell.
Something burns against him, the feel of hot metal. Air escapes his lips, but he does not scream. He will hold out against that for as long as possible. The more resilience he can show, the more that the Lord will be appeased.
The Appeaser continues his work, slowly increasing the intensity of his efforts. Most of the cuts are shallow, and quickly burned afterward, to prevent too much blood loss. Namai knows this technique, too; he has witnessed it often enough.
He blocks out the suffering as best he can, even when he feels the first of his fingers severed. Worse follows, but he tries to find a place inside himself. The pain becomes background to him, changing in form, slowly growing.
It seems to Namai that the sky is slowly turning from blue to white. Intense white light, shining down on him. He knows what the Appeaser is doing, but it is as if the knife is being thrust into someone else. The white light grows, surrounding everything, replacing everything.
Namai's last thought, as the whiteness embraces him, is that no matter that the King of Kings has withdrawn his blessing, he has still been blessed, for he has been shown the colour of eternity.
--
[1] The beliefs which the Wurrukurr people possess are similar in many respects to those held by historical Aboriginal peoples, but differ in many of their details and interpretation. This is to represent the many changes which have arisen in *Australia.
[2] The Wurrukurr are a people who live north of the Atjuntja domains, along the coast near historical Carnarvon, Western Australia.
[3] This misinterpretation comes from the language of the Wurrukurr, who double most words to indicate plurals. When Attapatta hears a reference to the King of Kings, he interprets this to mean Many-King.
[4] The desert peoples Nyumbin fought against were inland dwellers of the eastern desert, and only distantly related to the northern coastal dwellers such as the Wuurukurr depicted in the first section.
[5] The "kings" amongst the Atjuntja are the heads of the thirteen greatest noble families, and who are responsible for naming the new King of Kings. Usually this is a formality, since the last monarch will have designated a successor, but Kepiuc Tjaanuc was better at encouraging competition amongst his sons than choosing one to be his heir.
[6] The military campaigning season in Aururia is usually in late autumn and winter (by southern hemisphere standards). The weather then is usually cooler, and the harvests have just been collected. This allows both the conscription of farmers as additional soldiers or labourers, and ensures the largest possible food supply to support the armies.
[7] Verdant Valley is the historical town of Northam, Western Australia.
--
Thoughts?
Note: This chapter involves some descriptions of military action in Tiayal (alt-Western Australia). This action may be easier to follow by referring to the map of Tiayal provided earlier in this post.
--
"You are to proceed to the southward in order to make discovery of the continent abovementioned [Aururia] until you arrive in the latitude of 40 degrees, unless you sooner fall in with it. But not having discovered it or any evident signs of it in that run, you are to proceed in search of it to the eastward between the latitude before mentioned and the latitude of 35 degrees until you discover it."
- Instructions issued to William Baffin by the Directors of the East India Trading Company in July 1635, prior to his first expedition to Aururia
--
Summer, 29th Year of King of Kings Kepiuc Tjaanuc [December 1631-February 1632]
Milgawee (White City) [Albany, Western Australia]
Tiayal (the Middle Country) [western coast of Australia]
Water, water everywhere. Not plunging uncontrollably from the sky, or bubbling from the secret places beneath the earth, but flowing according to the desires and for the pleasures of men.
Or were these bearded Atjuntja truly men? Might they not be spirit beings who lived in the Dreamtime as much as in the present time?
Attapatta, chief of the Wurrukurr, could not decide the answer to those questions, much as he wondered. Before he had come to Milgawee, he had been confident that these Atjuntja were men like any others, even if possessed of different Dreamings [1].
The Atjuntja knew different skills than the desert-dwelling Wurrukurr [2], but they still had their limits. Or so it had seemed. He had been invited to some of their smaller cities, earlier in his life, and seen that the Atjuntja had different knowledge. The Atjuntja could work metals and make food grow from within the earth, but they did not know how to listen to the world around them and were almost incapable of hunting properly.
Now, though, he had seen Milgawee, the place of stone and water and boundless vegetation, and he could not decide whether these Atjuntja were truly men. The first time he had seen an Atjuntja city, he had called it a big place, but the local Atjuntja had just laughed. Now that he had seen the place they called the Centre of Time, he understood their reactions.
Here at Milgawee, it was as if the Dreamtime still endured, where the ancient spirit beings had never stopped their work of shaping the earth. Here walked men – or perhaps more-than-men – who had the powers to call forth stone and water according to their desires.
And they had welcomed him! The Wurrukurr came from a hotter and harsher land, where the sun burned brighter and water was life. Attapatta had guided his people through the challenges of that life, but he had never expected to be welcomed by spirit beings.
Attapatta had been given rooms in their palace to live, and gifts of iron and clothes made of linen. Those were marvellous enough. The Atjuntja had even called him one of the blessed, who was permitted to hear the voice of their great ruler, the Many-King [3] who commanded all of the spirits of this place.
Still, for all of these wonders, nothing matched the Garden. Here, the sounds of water were everywhere. Here was a truly sacred place created by the most powerful of Dreaming. Back in the hot lands of his home, the growth of plants was a rare, infrequent thing, in a land which had been baked red. In the Garden, though, water flowed everywhere, and the growth of plants was commanded entirely at the wishes of the Atjuntja.
Here, too, was where Attapatta had been invited to meet with Lerunna Mundi, the voice of the Many-King, to discuss whatever reason they had for inviting him to travel so far.
Lerunna said, "Your Wurrukurr people follow your lead, I know. How much do your neighbours heed your words?"
Attapatta frowned, trying to follow the import of the question. He said, "I am chief, not a... king. All of the Wurrukurr elders have a voice, and our people will listen to them. As for our neighbours, we talk with them, but no-one can command another people. They do as they wish in their country, as we do in ours."
Lerunna said, "So long as you talk with them, that is enough for his exalted majesty's wishes."
"Of course we talk with them. A people should always heed their neighbours."
Lerunna smiled. A normal expression if he was a man; perhaps the same held true for spirit beings. "His exalted majesty offers you gifts – iron knives and tools, linen and kunduri."
"What does the Many-King want from us, that he offers such gifts?" Attapatta said. He knew that desire stirred in his voice; the gifts which he had already received were incredible.
"Your scouting, and your warning. His exalted majesty knows that the Wurrukurr know how to move through the red lands [desert] without being seen, when you need. He asks that you send word to our soldiers if you or your neighbours learn of ships coming from the sea."
"Ships?" Attapatta said.
"The ships of the Raw Men, who come out of the sunset."
"Ah," Attapatta said. He had heard word of this from the Atjuntja near his homeland, although he had never seen a ship himself.
"There are two kinds of Raw Men. The Nedlandj [Dutch] are our sometimes friends. Tell us if they come. The other kind are called the Pannidj, and they are our enemies. Do not threaten them, for their weapons are powerful. But his exalted majesty wants to know if their ships come. If they try to build outposts in your country, send word to us, and his exalted majesty's soldiers will capture the Pannidj for you."
"If they are so powerful, we should be wary of their anger," Attapatta said.
Lerunna said, "The Pannidj can be killed. His exalted majesty's soldiers killed them when they attacked our friends the Nedlandj. But we will need your people to guide us. You know the red lands better than anyone, and you can bring our soldiers close to the Pannidj without being seen. If they come, we will defeat them."
An easy proposition, as far as Attapatta was concerned. The risks lay with the Atjuntja, not with his own people. "It is agreed," he said.
--
From: "The United East India Company [Dutch East India Company]: Reflections on the Golden Age"
By Alexander Boniface
The first decade of the Company's deeds in Aururia was shaped by priorities set elsewhere in the world. Company merchants acquired Atjuntja gold and sandalwood as an excellent source of wealth, but they spent the profits of that trade elsewhere.
During the tenure of Governor-General Coen, the Company's efforts in the Far East were focused on building up an inter-Asian trading network whose profits would supply the spice trade to Europe. Aururian gold provided the capital to finance this trading expansion, but for the first ten years, Aururia itself formed only an isolated outpost on that trading network.
In particular, under Coen's leadership the Company did not seek to become deeply involved with the Atjuntja. Despite the consternation caused in Europe by accounts of Atjuntja religious practices – often exaggerated, but the reality was bad enough – or the frustration of Atjuntja trading restrictions, Coen did not wish any disruption to such a valuable source of gold.
So for the first few years, the Company simply traded with the Atjuntja and complied with most of their restrictions. Where convenience allowed and the risk was low, the Company did ignore their treaty obligations, such as by sending ships to explore further east in Aururia. Blatant interference, however, remained forbidden...
A variety of factors combined to change the course of the Company's involvement in Aururia. With the passing of Jan Coen in July 1631, the prime focus was no longer building up inter-Asian shipping; a task which had in any case been largely completed by that time. His successor Hendrik Brouwer had a much greater interest in exploration of new markets and trade goods.
Aururia offered an inviting temptation for renewed exploration. François Thijssen's voyage [in 1626-27] had offered tantalising hints of the potential new markets which could be found there. Action on these hints had been delayed by Coen's Asian focus, and the chaos caused in Europe by the first sweating sleep [Marnitja] epidemic meant that no-one in the Netherlands had overruled him. With Coen gone and the situation in Europe stabilising, further exploration of Aururia became a much higher priority.
Concerns about the security of their Aururian outposts also became an increasing source of friction between the Company and the Atjuntja. The Spanish raid on Fort Nassau in 1631 exacerbated these underlying tensions, since the Company now wished to fortify and garrison their outposts properly, but the Atjuntja administrators refused to allow fortifications.
The infamous demand of the Atjuntja governor Namaidera [Namai Urdera] for Dutch sacrificial victims has been much-cited as bringing about the collision between Company and Atjuntja interests, but in truth this was but one symptom of an underlying conflict. Eurasian diseases and rats were causing increasing problems in Tiayal, and the flood of Old World trade goods caused economic disruption amongst the local aristocracy.
With such growing sources of friction, it was inevitable that the Company would need to take more active involvement in Aururia. The critical moment came in 1632, in the aftermath of a new wave of disease, when the first epidemic of chickenpox swept across Tiayal...
--
The man called Nyumbin would become one of the most disputed figures in accounts of Aururian history, and indeed across the world. Over the centuries, a plethora of writers, historians, social activists, nationalists, revolutionaries and other figures would depict their own views of Nyumbin. Many would cite him as inspiration for their own deeds, many would condemn his actions, while a few offered a more nuanced view of his life and deeds.
To some, Nyumbin would be seen as the first great Aururian patriot, a cultural hero who offered the first resistance to foreign influence. Others would see him merely as a nationalistic rebel, fighting for the Inayaki people against the Atjuntja, while being totally ignorant of the wider clash between Europeans and Aururians. Still others would view him as simply an aristocratic opportunist, who sought to take advantage of the arrival of the Dutch to obtain greater personal wealth and power by replacing Atjuntja rule with his own.
In time, Nyumbin would be viewed by some as a bloodthirsty would-be tyrant who sought to oppress everyone. Some would see him as a traitor whose rebellion allowed the Dutch to impose control over the Atjuntja. Others would see him as an avatar of the Lord, sent to bring bloodshed and chaos into the mortal realms. A few more controversial historians would see him as demonstrating the first stirring of class-consciousness in Aururia.
In the welter of accounts, the truth about Nyumbin is almost impossible to discern. Still, some facts are relatively undisputed. Nyumbin was born into one of the old Inayaki noble families. As was so often the case, his family had been partially assimilated into the Atjuntja hierarchy, and were recognised as noble, but they preserved their own language and something of a separate sense of culture.
Of the man's appearance and character, the tales naturally vary, but through all accounts, some features are often highlighted. Nyumbin was a man of dark skin even by the standards of Tiayal, with the black hair that was so expected of Atjuntja nobility, but rarer amongst their subject peoples such as the Inayaki. He is reliably reported as a man who kept himself in prime physical condition: tall, well-muscled, flexible, and an expert with sword or spear.
One seemingly minor point about his appearance will cause endless acrimony amongst scholars and in popular culture. Some descriptions of Nyumbin assert that he never wore the full beard so heavily associated with Atjuntja nobility, that he had always kept himself clean-shaven to distinguish himself from the Atjuntja overlords. Other descriptions claim that he had worn a full beard to fit with Atjuntja expectations – as did most of the other semi-assimilated nobility in the subject peoples – and that he only shaved his beard when he began his great rebellion. The point matters greatly to those who view him as a lifelong patriot and nationalist, or to those who see him as a mere opportunist, but it will never be truly settled.
Whatever else Nyumbin may have been, he was certainly a gifted military tactician and a charismatic leader. Even hostile accounts of his life usually agree that he was a man of immense personal presence and charm, with an extremely persuasive way of speaking. His military talents were demonstrated first when he acted for the Atjuntja to lead raids against eastern desert peoples who had started to impinge into farming lands during times of drought [4]. In time, they would be demonstrated when he acted against the Atjuntja.
Nyumbin's deeds were ostensibly triggered by the passage of the chickenpox epidemic which swept through Tiayal in 1632 and claimed the life of the King of Kings, Kepiuc Tjaanuc. Certainly, he must have had some motivations which had been building for longer than that, but which of these reasons is seen as his true motivation depends on which later figure is offering an account of his life.
It is known that Nyumbin had some resentment of the main Atjuntja noble merchants who came from the White City to trade with the Dutch at Fort Nassau. The Atjuntja aristocracy controlled the supply of gold which was the most valuable good to trade with the Dutch. Nyumbin and the other non-Atjuntja nobles had to trade using lesser goods such as sandalwood and sweet peppers, and it was a source of offence that he was not treated as being as good as an Atjuntja noble.
Nyumbin may also have had a personal hatred of the local Atjuntja governor, Namai Urdera. Many stories will describe quarrels between the two. Some of those are undoubted later embellishments, but it is known that Nyumbin did not have a good opinion of the Atjuntja governor.
Nyumbin would certainly have been aware of the increasing discontent among the populace, due to inflexible Atjuntja tribute demands – or oppression, as some would later call it. The Atjuntja had long maintained a system of tribute and labour drafts on their subjects, based on carefully-calculated census records.
The tribute payments were usually set at a level which farmers and workers could pay without too much difficulty. Infestations of introduced rats consumed many farmers' harvests, and the deaths from Eurasian diseases cut into the available labour both for farming and for meeting Atjuntja labour draft requirements.
Fearful of arousing the wrath of the King of Kings, Atjuntja governors did not lower their demands for tribute or labour. As farming yields declined, the populace were increasingly hard-pressed to meet the Atjuntja requirements. The farmers were placed under the greater pressure, but by some reports even the local nobility were feeling the strain. Some later sources will conclude that Nyumbin wanted to lift the oppression of the people, some will assert that he feared for the loss of his own wealth, and some will claim that he cared nothing for the suffering of the people.
Whatever his reasons, Nyumbin would lead the greatest rebellion which had been seen in Tiayal since the earliest days of the Atjuntja empire.
Nyumbin launched his rebellion in May 1632. He acted two weeks after word came of the death of the King of Kings, when the Atjuntja governors had gone to the capital to attend his funeral, and before the kings [5] in the White City could decide which of the many sons of Kepiuc Tjaanuc most deserved the imperial dignity. Whether by intelligence or good fortune, his timing was impeccable. Late May marked the start of the campaigning season, when workers had finished the harvests and would normally be called to serve on labour drafts for the next three months [6].
Nyumbin called on these workers to fight instead, in the name of the Inayaki and the Djarwari peoples. He found plenty of volunteer militia to supplement his own personal troops. He put his rebel troops to immediate use, gathering them around the garrison-city of Archers Nest and storming it using a combination of surprise and well-crafted ladders. The captured Atjuntja, both soldiers and non-combatants, were massacred, except for a few of noble blood who were kept as hostages. The Dutch at Fort Nassau maintained a wary neutrality, and he ignored them as posing no threat.
Following this success, Nyumbin marched east to capture the major garrison-city of Verdant Valley [7]. In the absence of the governor, who perhaps would have been more judicious, the local military commander decided to engage Nyumbin's numerically superior forces outside the city's walls, rather than settling into a defensive siege.
The Atjuntja commander trusted his troops' discipline and superior armour to carry the day, but Nyumbin relied on a tactic he had learned when desert hunter-gatherers used against him: feigned retreat. He used his best-trained personal troops to stage an apparent retreat, and then others hit the pursuing Atjuntja in the flank. The Atjuntja army broke and fled the field, leaving Nyumbin's forces to occupy Verdant Valley, where he conducted a similar massacre of all Atjuntja within its walls.
In the space of two weeks, Nyumbin had captured two Atjuntja garrison-cities, when even capturing one had been a rare feat in previous rebellions. These triumphs attracted a flood of support for Nyumbin's cause, both from peasants and other non-Atjuntja nobles.
Nyumbin sent some of his newly-raised troops east to capture the next major garrison-city of Spear Mountain, although that venture simply resulted in a long siege which would eventually be abandoned when word reached the besiegers of events elsewhere. However, the presence of those troops meant that the Atjuntja dominions were now cut in half, since the rebels controlled all the major roads north.
Leaving his eastern forces to continue the siege of Spear Mountain, Nyumbin marched northwest to the next major northern garrison-city, Lobster Waters. The commander here had the good sense to avoid battle too, with his troops defending the walls instead. However, they were betrayed from within, thanks to some local Inayaki servants who opened one of the smaller gates during the night, allowing the rebels into the city. This time, Nyumbin ordered only the soldiers killed, and spared the non-combatant Atjuntja to act as hostages, too.
Nyumbin's triple success at capturing garrison-cities and victories in the open field naturally provoked terror in the White City. No rebel leader before had been so successful. However, the capture of Lobster Waters did not give the same boost to Nyumbin's cause as his previous victories. He had already attracted most of the available support from the Inayaki and Djarawari subject peoples. The Binyin people who lived further north were much less inclined to support him, thanks to a legacy of old hatreds and fear that they would simply be replacing Atjuntja dominion with Inayaki overlordship.
Without additional support, Nyumbin was forced to return south to prepare for any Atjuntja counter-attacks. While he had gained control of considerable territory, the bulk of the Atjuntja armies were further south and east, in their old heartland. They did not march quickly to oppose him, but their threat remained significant.
With his return to Archers Nest, Nyumbin had three choices. He could march south to try to capture the next coastal garrison-city of Corram Yibbal, although a siege risked becoming bogged down. He could go east to Verdant Valley and then take the major road to the White City, which was sure to bring about battle with the main Atjuntja armies. Or he could remain where he was, consolidate his control over his territory, and stage some meaningless negotiations with the Atjuntja while he tried to train and equip his soldiers up to Atjuntja standards.
In the end, Nyumbin chose a middle course, opening negotiations with the Atjuntja over the possibility of recognition of his conquests, while he sent a portion of his forces south to besiege Corram Yibbal. The Atjuntja nobility sent representatives to conduct a pretence of discussing terms, but neither side treated these negotiations as anything other than a delaying tactic. The Atjuntja rarely bargained with rebels – and then only when they could find religious justification – but they welcomed the chance for a truce while they settled their own arguments about who should become the next King of Kings.
The rebels and imperial forces clashed several times while these negotiations were taking place, but Nyumbin himself did not take the field until early in 1633, when he apparently felt confident enough to march on the White City. There were Atjuntja forts along the way, each of which would take some time to capture.
Nyumbin never reached the White City. While he was besieging the third Atjuntja fort on the road there, he received word of disaster in his rear. Atjuntja troops had landed by sea, supported by men armed with strange thunder-weapons [ie cannon] that broke men and stone with equal ease. Archers Nest and Verdant Valley were quickly recaptured by imperial troops, destroying his supply lines.
Nyumbin was forced to withdraw back toward Verdant Valley, only to be caught between imperial forces advancing from both directions. He accepted battle against the odds, and his rebels were systematically cut to pieces by Atjuntja soldiers. Nyumbin himself died in battle, preferring that fate to capture. His last words, according to most accounts, were to curse the Raw Men whose ships and thunder had brought about his failure.
--
From: "The United East India Company: Reflections on the Golden Age"
By Alexander Boniface
In the aftermath of Nyumbin's rebellion, the Company was quick to collect on the debt owed by the Atjuntja government. They were granted permission to establish a third trading outpost, which would later become Coenstad [Esperance, Western Australia]. All restrictions on fortifying and garrisoning their outposts were lifted. The Company obtained the right to sail east of Tiayal, although this was merely acknowledgement of a practice which had already begun.
Further concessions followed, inevitably. Ostensibly little had changed after Nyumbin's rebellion, since there was again an undisputed King of Kings ruling over Tiayal. In truth, the Company had been handed a wedge which it was quick to apply. The efficiency of Dutch shipping had been demonstrated, and the Atjuntja nobles continued to clamour for unrestricted trade.
With those advantages, it took only a handful of years for the Company to demand unrestricted trade access, with the right to visit any Atjuntja port and trade in any goods they desired. For the Atjuntja monarchy, this had short-term benefits, since it placated an increasingly unruly aristocracy. In the long-term, though, it would benefit only the Company, since it disrupted the previous land-based Atjuntja internal trade networks, and destroyed the careful control of resource production which had been maintained by the Kings of Kings...
--
Third Harvest Season, 1st Year of King of Kings Manyal Tjaanuc [April 1633]
Milgawee (White City) [Albany, Western Australia]
Tiayal (the Middle Country) [western coast of Australia]
Silence around him, at least as far as sounds carry to his ears. Namai Urdera lies in the centre of the public arena of the House of Pain, with twenty thousand people watching him, but he hears no noise save for a faint whispering on the breeze.
He has been placed on a raised wooden platform, his wrists and ankles chained to four stakes. There is not much spare movement in the chains; his arms and legs are both spread wide. He has been left only a loincloth to wear, although he does his best to bear himself with dignity. His beard and head have been shaved, silent testament to the fact that this is no ordinary sacrifice.
It is an execution.
Namai has been condemned for failing to secure sacrifices from the Nedlandj, and for failing to prevent the rebellion of that infuriating man Nyumbin. He did volunteer to be sacrificed to the death, but that does not erase the condemnation. The King of Kings' blessing has been withdrawn; Namai is no longer permitted to hear his voice or speak directly to him.
Namai would not argue with the new King of Kings' decision, even if he could. The Lord has been greatly angered, with what He has inflicted on the Atjuntja; only blood can answer the call. Namai does think, though, that his sacrifice will not be enough. Given the magnitude of the disasters, only royal blood can appease the Lord. The new King of Kings has about fifty surviving brothers. One or more of them must be sacrificed to the death.
A shadow passes above him. The Appeaser is ready. No words are spoken, for none are needed.
Namai does not know exactly what is coming, since every Appeaser has his own methods. He knows enough, though, after watching countless sacrifices, and now he will become one.
The first cut is faint, oh so faint. Barely a touch of the knife. The second is slightly deeper, on the other side. The third cut is shallow, too, as far as he can tell.
Something burns against him, the feel of hot metal. Air escapes his lips, but he does not scream. He will hold out against that for as long as possible. The more resilience he can show, the more that the Lord will be appeased.
The Appeaser continues his work, slowly increasing the intensity of his efforts. Most of the cuts are shallow, and quickly burned afterward, to prevent too much blood loss. Namai knows this technique, too; he has witnessed it often enough.
He blocks out the suffering as best he can, even when he feels the first of his fingers severed. Worse follows, but he tries to find a place inside himself. The pain becomes background to him, changing in form, slowly growing.
It seems to Namai that the sky is slowly turning from blue to white. Intense white light, shining down on him. He knows what the Appeaser is doing, but it is as if the knife is being thrust into someone else. The white light grows, surrounding everything, replacing everything.
Namai's last thought, as the whiteness embraces him, is that no matter that the King of Kings has withdrawn his blessing, he has still been blessed, for he has been shown the colour of eternity.
--
[1] The beliefs which the Wurrukurr people possess are similar in many respects to those held by historical Aboriginal peoples, but differ in many of their details and interpretation. This is to represent the many changes which have arisen in *Australia.
[2] The Wurrukurr are a people who live north of the Atjuntja domains, along the coast near historical Carnarvon, Western Australia.
[3] This misinterpretation comes from the language of the Wurrukurr, who double most words to indicate plurals. When Attapatta hears a reference to the King of Kings, he interprets this to mean Many-King.
[4] The desert peoples Nyumbin fought against were inland dwellers of the eastern desert, and only distantly related to the northern coastal dwellers such as the Wuurukurr depicted in the first section.
[5] The "kings" amongst the Atjuntja are the heads of the thirteen greatest noble families, and who are responsible for naming the new King of Kings. Usually this is a formality, since the last monarch will have designated a successor, but Kepiuc Tjaanuc was better at encouraging competition amongst his sons than choosing one to be his heir.
[6] The military campaigning season in Aururia is usually in late autumn and winter (by southern hemisphere standards). The weather then is usually cooler, and the harvests have just been collected. This allows both the conscription of farmers as additional soldiers or labourers, and ensures the largest possible food supply to support the armies.
[7] Verdant Valley is the historical town of Northam, Western Australia.
--
Thoughts?
Excellently evocative world building and attention to detail here, I loved seeing so many different points of view and responses to the various pressures and stressors that have come about from the attacks, to rebellion, to sickness and sacrifice, it all feel very realistic and exciting!
The scouting segment was cool, the rebellion grand yet conveyed quickly and that sacrifice was, wow, intense.
The scouting segment was cool, the rebellion grand yet conveyed quickly and that sacrifice was, wow, intense.
Glad you liked him. The future course of Atjuntja society will of course be revealed in due... course. I should mention that from here, the main focus of the next few chapters will shift further east, as Europeans come into contact with the rest of agricultural *Australia - or, to put it another way, the rest of *Australia comes into contact with Europeans.
Thanks. I personally found the sacrifice section, in particular, a difficult but rewarding part to write since it was the end of one of the main viewpoint characters so far.
Lands of Red and Gold #32: The First Seeds
Lands of Red and Gold #32: The First Seeds
"Satisfaction comes from doing the proper works of a man."
- Plirite maxim
"A man's worth is no greater than the sum of his ambitions and his balance."
- Nangu saying
--
Werringi, or so his parents named him. One man among many born to the Wolalta bloodline, which itself was one bloodline among many which vied for wealth and pride in the endless struggle of the Nangu.
Werringi would make a name for himself, though, as a sailor and as a trading captain. And, in time, much more. Before he breathed his last on this mortal world, where by his devoutly held Plirite beliefs he would in time be reborn according to the balance of his own actions and the ripples in the wider cosmos, he had earned another epithet.
Kumgatu, he would later be called, a name which meant "the Bold". Awarded for the deeds he performed during his life – one in particular – it was the name by which he would be known in Aururia and, afterward, elsewhere.
--
April 1630
Inner Sea, Southeast of Quamba [Mackay, Queensland]
Stillness surrounded the Dawn Seeker; cloudless, almost windless sky above, and still, deep water below, so clear that it seemed as if the boat itself was floating in the sky.
"Perfect weather," Ouraidai said, from his place beside the steering oar. The same thing he usually said whenever he took the Dawn Seeker out to dive for coral. Of course, if it had not been a perfect day, Ouraidai would not have brought the twin-hulled vessel out of Quamba.
Quailoi approved of that caution, naturally; Ouraidai had been his Elder Brother [1], and taught him so much of what it meant to be a man, including the need for prudence. Even now that Quailoi had married, the two men remained firm friends, and worked the Inner Sea together. Quailoi worked as the coral diver; Ouraidai now deemed himself too old for that kind of work, and steered the boat, watched the rope and helped from the surface.
Ouraidai had steered the Dawn Seeker to the right location; a place where the water was shallow enough to let them see down to the sea floor below, but still deep enough to yield a particularly prized kind of scarlet coral. Any fool could harvest coral from the reefs which marked the boundary of the Inner Sea; finding a valuable sort in the depths was another matter entirely.
Quailoi took his position on the poles which joined the Dawn Seeker's two hulls together, and secured the rope to the poles in preparation to dive. Before he could enter the water, though, Ouraidai called out for him to wait.
Quailoi followed the other man's outstretched finger. Boats had appeared to the south. Three boats with sails of a proper triangular shape but with sails dyed a most peculiar shade of teal that nearly blended into the sea and sky. Doubtless that was why they had not noticed the boats before.
"Have you ever seen boats with sails like that ?" Quailoi asked. It was a proper question to ask an Elder Brother; for a moment, it felt as if he was back in his youth, seeking guidance.
"No. What proper Kiyungu would waste good dyes on a sail?" Ouraidai said. "Especially such an inauspicious colour."
Quailoi nodded. Sometimes Kiyungu from the southern cities were strange, but surely not so foolish as that. Still... "Yet who else sails the Inner Sea?"
"None that I know of," Ouraidai said. "Head-taking Daluming raiding the League cities in the south, yes. But I've never heard of them coming this far, and they prefer to strike by land anyway."
Quailoi could only agree. The Daluming could not be here, and no-one else could sail on the Inner Sea. To the north lay only barbarians who knew not how to farm; better to look for wombats to fly than for them to build boats with sails, let alone ones touched by dyes. But who did that leave? "Is there anyone else who might sail so far?"
Ouraidai did not answer immediately; doubtless considering the question.
While the other man thought, Quailoi looked at the boats again, and realised that they had sailed noticeably closer. Fast movement for ships in such a mild breeze; their sails must truly catch the wind.
Now that the ships were closer, he saw more about them. They were double-hulled, like all decent boats, and large enough to carry several men. The sails were not just dyed teal, either. Each of them had a large hollow circle in the centre, dyed a brilliant yellow.
"That pattern is to identify the ship," Quailoi said. "It must be. The colours are to announce who the ships belong to. Like a banner, but without needing to attach it separately."
"It could be," Ouraidai said. "Doesn't tell us who they are though. Maybe, just maybe, they're Maori from Aotearoa. They'd be from a long way away, but the Maori are said to sail to south of Daluming. Maybe they've decided to come further north."
Quailoi looked south again, to where the ships had come noticeably closer. They were truly moving quickly, even with the poor wind. "Well, we'll soon find out."
--
By 1629, Werringi had earned his path to the second-most senior trading captain of the Wolalta bloodline. His main voyages were to the eastern seaboard of Aururia, to what the Nangu called the Spice Coast, for the much-valued lemon and cinnamon verbena and other spices grown there. His main destination had been the caste-ridden, inward-looking Patjimunra city-states [Hunter Valley, New South Wales], but he had visited further north, too.
In 1629, he found a new inspiration: to discover the homeland of the Raw Men who had come to visit the Atjuntja in the west. These Raw Men had made one brief visit to the Island in 1626, but now seemed to have spurned any further contact.
Werringi decided that if the Raw Men would not come to the Island, then he would go to them. He had recognised that the Raw Men sailed north from Atjuntja lands, and knew that when they had visited the Island, they had continued east to visit the Cider Isle [Tasmania], and had then apparently turned north. So he reached the somewhat incorrect conclusion that the best way to reach the Raw Men's homeland was to sail north along the Spice Coast and then on to unknown regions northward, turning west at some undiscovered point to sail west to the Raw Men's homeland.
Organising the voyage took several months, as Werringi sought to persuade other captains to join him, to find out what tales he could from people who had sailed north (or who claimed they had sailed north), gather provisions, and choose the most suitable ships.
While as a senior captain he had a great-ship to command, Werringi chose to yield that ship and use a smaller vessel. Nangu great-ships could carry more cargo than any other ship, but they had a deeper draft and could not be pulled ashore on a beach at need, unlike the smaller Nangu trading ships. Given the risks and hazards of exploring such completely unknown waters, Werringi preferred to use a vessel which could land without needing a port.
In time, Werringi persuaded two other Wolalta captains to join his voyage, and prevailed upon the Wolalta elder to promote another would-be captain to command of his own vessel. So, on what another calendar would call 14 February 1630, he set out from the Island, leading an expedition of four ships.
The first part of the voyage was rapid, as Werringi guided his fleet through the familiar waters of the Narrow Sea [Bass Strait] and then north to the Spice Coast. The fleet resupplied at the Patjimunra city-state of Torimi [Port Stephens, NSW], a destination which Werringi had visited many times before, and which usually represented the northernmost limit of Nangu voyages.
After leaving the Patjimunra, the expeditions proceeded north more cautiously. Werringi intended not just to reach the Raw Men's homeland, but also to obtain a very detailed knowledge of the journey. After passing the Patjimunra lands, he started to chart the coastline, recording the general shape and key features, and keeping written records of the important events and what he and his crew had seen, including the shifts in the stars.
The expedition visited Yuragir [Coffs Harbour], the capital of Daluming. Werringi had been to the kingdom before, but never as far north as the capital city. Here, he hoped to find out what the Bungudjimay knew about the geography and peoples further north.
Instead, he experienced his first major misfortune. Due to a misunderstanding over cultural expectations [2], the Nangu sailors were challenged by a group of Bungudjimay warriors, and fled for their lives. Werringi himself narrowly escaped capture, but several of the sailors died, and Bungudjimay warriors boarded the last Nangu ship as it left shore. With a fight raging, the Nangu sailors fired their ship and abandoned it for the waves, swimming to the other ships and leaving the armoured warriors the choice of burning to death or drowning.
After this escape, Werringi was careful not to land anywhere else in Daluming, although he maintained his careful charting of the coast. When he reached the Kiyungu lands of the Coral Coast [3], though, he found a much warmer welcome. Never any friends of Daluming, the southerly Kiyungu city-states had established a loose alliance to defend against raids from Daluming, and, in another form, proselytisation from the Yalatji people in the interior, who were increasingly strident advocates of the Tjarrling faith [4].
The southern Kiyungu gave Werringi's expedition a friendly reception, particularly the Kiyungu women, and this delayed the voyage for several days while the two peoples interacted. Werringi tolerated the delay because it served several purposes. It boosted the morale of his sailors, it let them learn the basics of a language which some of the other peoples further north might also understand, and it let him and his fellow captains find out what the southern Kiyungu knew about the world further north.
After leaving the southern Kiyungu, the expedition passed west of Heaven of Sand [Fraser Island] and entered the Inner Sea. Here, they faced a new danger: coral reefs. They had been given sketchy descriptions of the region by the southern Kiyungu, and the reefs had been the feature which had most impressed Werringi. He ordered that their ships sail only during daylight and near low tide, so that they had the best chance to see any reefs, and if they did strike one, they could be carried off it by the rising tide.
With these instructions, progress was slow within the Inner Sea, but much safer than could have been otherwise. The expedition made contact with some of the northern Kiyungu towns, including their northernmost major city at Quamba. These contacts were equally friendly, and led Werringi to recognise the value of sweet potato and lesser yams as tropical crops; the Nangu knew what they were, but had never seen them growing in the warmer climates to which those plants were most suited. However, these contacts did not add much to the expedition's knowledge of the world further north [5].
After leaving Quamba, the expedition reached truly unknown lands. The peoples who dwelt along the shore were mostly hunter-gatherers who were only slowly acquiring crops and domesticated animals from further south, while the waters were warmer and more filled with corals.
Werringi ordered his ships to take even more care. He also decided that for the rest of the expedition, his ships would need to make regular stops along the shore to identify potential resupply points and ports. If possible, they should also establish relationships with the locals, and learn whether they would be amenable to ongoing contact. For the distance his ships were sailing had started to give him some appreciation of how far it might be to the Raw Men's homeland, and if this were to become a regular Nangu trade route, outposts would need to be established along the way.
The voyage amongst the reefs of the Inner Sea was arduous, but Werringi had never lacked for persistence, and kept his captains and crew motivated. In time, they found the reefs fading into the depths beneath them, and felt winds and currents coming out of the west. All of the seasoned Nangu sailors recognised this as a new sea, or at least a new strait, and Werringi ordered his ships to turn to the west, believing that at long last he was nearing the Raw Men's homeland.
In fact, the distance he still had to travel was greater than that which his ships had covered. After negotiating their way through several islands, the expedition found that the land now turned to the south, more than the west. Disappointed, Werringi could only order that the ships continue to follow the coast, and make regular stops to ascertain the nature of the country and the people.
Discouragement followed disappointment as the great exploration continued. Werringi's ships explored what their maps eventually let them realise was a great gulf in the mainland [Gulf of Carpentaria], and then kept going west. On one beach which he would name Blood Sands [on Melville Island, Northern Territory], his ships were attacked by the locals one night when they were beached, leading to a fight with several casualties on both sides, before the locals were driven off.
Enough Nangu sailors were killed in that battle that they did not have enough crew to operate all three ships properly. Werringi made the reluctant decision to burn the third ship, and the surviving sailors crowded into the two remaining vessels.
After Blood Sands, the expedition faced an even more difficult choice. The land started to turn southward again, and there was no indication whether it would ever continue northward. Werringi had to decide whether to strike out to sea and hope that he could find the Raw Men's homeland out over the open ocean, or continue following the coast toward what would, most likely, eventually lead them to the Atjuntja lands.
Had Werringi but known it, if he had sailed a few days across the open sea, he would have reached Timor and probably come into contact with the Portuguese. After much discussion with his fellow captains, however, he decided to continue following the coastline. The expedition had already lost half its ships, and losing another would mean that their sailors could not all make their way home even if they survived the ship's destruction. Even if the Raw Men's homeland could not be discovered on the first voyage, what his expedition had discovered so far would be invaluable to allow further expeditions. And if all else failed, the Raw Men had outposts in the Atjuntja lands; perhaps they could be visited there.
So Werringi's ships followed the coastline west and south with their usual slow, methodical progress. In time they reached peoples who had knowledge of the Raw Men; enough to recognise what ships were, even if not much more than that. That did not make Werringi change his mind; he still believed that the best course was to follow the coast, rather than strike out to wherever these ships sailed.
And so, on 18 September 1631, Werringi's two remaining ships anchored off the shore of the Middle Country, at a Raw Men outpost which its inhabitants called Fort Zeelandia...
--
18 September 1631
Fort Zeelandia [Geraldton, Western Australia]
Sails on the western horizon, or such had been the warning. That had been enough for Governor De Vries to order every available man with a musket to the docks, in preparation for whatever raid might be coming. Word had come by runner – Atjuntja runner; for once their roads brought word faster than ships. The Spanish had raided Fort Nassau a few days before, bringing fire and blood with them. If they planned to do the same here, then De Vries would make sure that they did not find easy pickings.
When the two ships came closer, though, he saw that they could not be Spanish. Twin hulls, triangular sails dyed blue-green with a golden ring in the centre. Smaller than he had expected, too. Certainly not big enough to mount many cannon or carry a large group of sailors. Even if this were somehow a Spanish ruse, so few men would not pose a danger.
"What sort of ships are they?" De Vries asked. "The Atjuntja can't build anything remotely like this."
Pieter Willemszoon, next to him, said, "Can never be sure, but I think that they're Islander ships."
"Islanders? Here?" De Vries said. "The Atjuntja forbid them to come here." A great pity, that, and a greater shame that Governor-General Coen had not pushed more vigorously for trade with the Island. From what De Vries had sampled of their kunduri, in particular, he thought that was a great loss.
Willemszoon shrugged. "The Atjuntja forbid us to sail east of Cape Hasewint [Cape Leeuwin], too, but that hasn't stopped us."
"I suppose. Still, I'd have expected them to go to Fort Nassau before coming here." He paused. "Before the Spanish raided, at least."
The two ships quickly neared the shore, even with the breeze blowing out to sea. They tacked effortlessly, it seemed, and sailed closer to the wind than any ships which De Vries had ever seen.
When the two ships were almost to shore, the crew on one pulled down the sail and threw a rock over the side, with a rope tied to it.
"Anchoring off shore?" Willemszoon murmured.
"Only one," the governor said. The other ship kept on coming, straight to an open place on the dock. As if it had every right to do so.
This close, he could make out the men easily enough. Dark skins like the natives here, although all of them had dark hair, too. That settled it. Nothing the Spanish could have done would have let them send these men here in a ruse. It had to be Islanders, and clearly coming to parley. Prudent, too, to keep one ship out to sea so that it could run for home with word if the first ship were attacked or its crew imprisoned.
"When the Islanders land, send their leaders to my residence," De Vries said. "With an armed escort, of course."
"Sir?" Willemszoon was usually efficient, but he did not follow the governor's train of thought this time.
"They want some sort of bargain, or they wouldn't be coming. Better to discuss that in comfort in my residence than at the docks when surrounded by armed men, don't you think?"
Willemszoon nodded.
Some time later, with De Vries sitting comfortably in his favourite chair, Willemszoon re-appeared. Along with three of these Islanders, dressed in a rather poor state, but then they had surely been sailing for a while. And five Dutchmen, all with muskets and swords. The Islanders did not carry anything more dangerous than knives, but better to take no chances.
One of the Islanders, obviously the leader from the way the others regarded him, spoke in heavily-accented Atjuntja. "May this meeting bring harmony to both our peoples, with the guidance of the Good Man."
The words sounded stylised and formal, even through the heavy accent. It took De Vries a moment to realise that they were a blessing of sorts. Well, he had already known that the Islanders were no proper Christians. Hopefully their pagan gods weren't as bloodthirsty as those of the Atjuntja.
"May God smile on us," he said, also in the Atjuntja language. Except that he used the proper Dutch word for God. He would not deign to invoke the name of the heathen Atjuntja deity, even indirectly.
"My name is Werringi. I am of the..." He paused, and had a rapid exchange of words with one of his fellow captains. "Your pardon, but this Atjuntja language does not have the right word. I am a captain of the great family Wolalta."
"I am De Vries, governor of Fort Zeelandia." He also noted that while this Werringi used the Atjuntja language, he was not very fluent in it. In fact, De Vries thought that he spoke it better than the Islander captain. A puzzle, perhaps, but one to be considered at another time. "Be welcome here, although I am surprised that you have come."
Werringi said, "Your people did not come back to our Island, so we decided to come to you." He had a sly smile as he spoke.
"I understand that the Atjuntja forbid you to sail past... Sunset Point," he said, remembering the Atjuntja name for Cape Hasewint.
"Our agreement with the King of Kings forbids us to sail west past Sunset Point," the Islander said. "So I did not sail that way. My ships came here from the north."
"That's impossible!" De Vries snapped. In Dutch, he realised a moment later, but the other man clearly understood the tone if not the words.
"A bold feat, yes," Werringi said. That sly smile returned at the word bold. "But we have mastered a feat of navigation to match that which you Raw Men have done."
That smug overconfidence needed to be punctured. If not, De Vries would not have revealed something he had always been ordered to conceal. "Not by a tenth, I think. Sailing to the Netherlands, our homeland, takes up to a year, most of it across the open ocean far out of sight of land."
That news weakened the Islander's confidence, sure enough. "A year?" he asked, his smile falling into a frown. Then he and the other two Islanders broke into a heated argument.
De Vries let them argue volubly for a time, as he considered his own position. Orders against revealing anything to do with navigation existed for a reason, although he supposed that mentioning that the voyage took a year would not do any great harm.
Still, the Islanders would certainly have more questions. Unless he could distract them with something more important. He said, "You have truly sailed around all of this land?"
Werringi said, "I said it, and it is true."
"What did you discover? What lands did you find on this voyage?" he said.
Werringi said, "Offer me a cloak for a spar, or a spar for a cloak."
"What the... What do you mean?"
Werringi frowned. "You Raw Men are traders. You know that knowledge comes with a price. You do not ask for a gift of knowledge. Especially not something as valuable as our maps and tales."
Charts? De Vries had not even realised that these Islanders made charts. He wondered, for a moment, what else they knew. "You want to bargain for maps?"
Werringi shook his head. Among that Atjuntja, that was a gesture of agreement. Apparently the same held true for the Islanders, for he said, "I offer a copy of my maps and records of my voyage around the world. In exchange for charts and tales of your own. You will tell me about the land you Raw Men come from, and how you sail here."
This time, De Vries needed to consider for even longer. Charts were protected documents for very good reason; the Company hid its navigational knowledge to gain an advantage over rivals. Still, the bargain was extremely tempting. Learning about the geography of a whole new continent, and of the peoples who lived there, could be invaluable.
Worth trading for knowledge of our own charts and voyages? Yes, he decided, after a while. If he told these Islanders how to sail to the East Indies, that would be nothing which the English and the Spanish did not already know... and the Spanish knew how to sail to the South Land too, now.
In any case, he would not have to tell the Islander captain everything. And no matter what he told them, he doubted that these pagans would traverse the world's oceans and sail to Amsterdam. To Batavia, perhaps, which might be a problem, but hardly any worse than the English who already sailed there.
"Let us discuss this further," he said, and they settled down to bargain.
--
With his landing at Fort Zeelandia, Werringi became the first Nangu captain to seal a trade bargain with the Raw Men. Or the Nedlandj, as he now knew that they were called. He was fortunate, too, that the Atjuntja governor was far too concerned with manoeuvring his soldiers against a possible Pannidj threat to argue much over the presence of Islanders in forbidden country. The Atjuntja governor simply informed him that what he had done was not forbidden this time, so he could visit provided that he did not attempt to trade, and that word would be sent to the King of Kings. It might prove that the treaty with the Nangu would be revised to forbid any travel to the western shores of the Middle Country, regardless of the route.
Werringi quietly avoided mentioning the knowledge exchange, but simply resupplied his vessels with food, which was permitted under the treaty, then set out again. He kept his ships well out to sea this time, rounded Sunset Point, and visited the White City long enough to leave another copy of his charts and journals with the Wolalta who lived there, in case of misfortune on the final leg of the voyage. Then he took his remaining two ships into the seas of endless winds, and returned to the Island. There, his voyage quickly won him a new name...
--
Taken from: "A History of the Dutch-Speaking Peoples"
By Hildebrandt van Rijn
The Cape marked a great landmark to the intrepid navigators who first explored the world's oceans, but as a land for settlement, it would take much longer to gain notice. The native Hottentots were not welcoming of outlanders, and the Portuguese who first explored the Cape had no interest in displacing them. The Portuguese established supply stations further east, and left the Cape largely neglected.
As Dutch and English trade with the Orient expanded, the Cape became a useful stopping point for ships whose crews suffered from scurvy or other malnutritions. It lay at a convenient midpoint between Europe and the Indies, and so by the turn of the seventeenth century, the Cape was regularly visited by European ships.
With the United [Dutch] East India Company's trade with the Orient booming, by 1635 the Lords Seventeen approved the establishment of a permanent settlement at the Cape [6]. The original intent was not for large-scale colonisation, just for a suitable harbour for ships avoiding bad weather or needing repairs, and to allow sufficient provisions to resupply passing ships.
The first expedition reached Table Bay in 1637. The early efforts proved to be a failure. European crops and farming techniques were poorly suited to the lands around the Cape, and food had to be brought in to resupply the settlement [7]. The Lords Seventeen were not pleased to have a victualling station which in fact could not supply victuals to passing crews.
Plans were made to abandon the settlement, until a returning Councillor [of the Indies] who stopped at the Cape noted that the climate there was very similar to that in much of Aururia. He suggested that perhaps crops from the northern hemisphere did not grow as well in the southern, but that Aururian crops would provide a useful alternative.
Given that this particular Councillor [8] was about to join the Lords Seventeen, his idea was well-heeded. The only difficulty was that the Dutch-speaking peoples at this time had very little knowledge of how to farm Aururian crops. There had been previous sketchy attempts to introduce various crops to both Amsterdam and Batavia, which had until then been unsuccessful except for some small success in growing murnong in the Netherlands.
So the Company decided to procure both crops and workers from Aururia. Two hundred Mutjing men and women from Valk Land [Eyre Peninsula, South Australia] were persuaded [9] to settle in the Cape in 1640, and ample supplies of seed for their preferred crops were brought with them.
In line with the Councillor's expectations, the new crops thrived in the Cape. The first red yams were supplied to ships in the first year, and bountiful harvests of cornnarts [wattle seeds] from 1642. Harvests of their variety of flax were also plentiful, which laid the foundations for a weaving industry to supply new ropes and sails to damaged ships.
The endeavour was successful enough, even after some conflicts with the Hottentots, that in 1643 another forty Mutjing families were invited to abandon their struggling homeland and move to the growing settlement at the Cape...
The first significant problems arose in 1645. An outbreak of measles killed nearly a quarter of the Mutjing farmers. The distraught people turned to a religious explanation; they blamed the epidemic on the lack of guidance in how to avoid bringing disharmony. They demanded that the Company bring in a Plirite priest and allow them to build a small temple for him.
The Company officials at the Cape knew that allowing the establishment of a heathen temple in a Dutch colony would not be viewed favourably in Europe. However, to a Company pragmatic enough to maintain trade with the Atjuntja, overlooking the presence of a Plirite priest or two in one of their distant outposts would be no difficult task. Keeping the Cape settlement functioning properly was deemed to be the greater priority, and a Plirite priest was duly invited from Valk Land. They expected, with some justification, that in time the Mutjing farmers would convert to Christianity.
So the first Plirite temple was founded at the Cape in 1647...
--
[1] Elder Brother (or, more rarely, Elder Sister) is a social institution amongst the Kiyungu which involves an older man (or woman) assuming a role as a mentor and lover of a younger person. The mentor is always of the same gender as the younger, and it is considered a valuable way of teaching about love, life, proper values, the social order, and often a craft skill, too. The formal relationship is ended when the younger gets married, although usually the elder party will still be available to provide advice to the younger for the rest of their lives.
[2] That is, the Nangu sailors thought that the best place for their heads would be attached to their bodies, while the priests of Daluming thought that those same heads would be of more use in niches in the Mound of Memory, ie the great pyramid where the heads of certain notables are kept behind glass.
[3] Coral Coast is the name which the Kiyungu give to the historical Gold Coast, Moreton Bay and Sunshine Coast in south-eastern Queensland. This area does not actually produce coral; from here, the Kiyungu would sail north to the Inner Sea (ie the waters bounded by the Great Barrier Reef) to collect it.
[4] The Yalatji people live in the Neeburra [Darling Downs], among the headwaters of the Anedeli [Darling River]. They have gradually converted to the Tjarrling faith, a related belief to the more orthodox Plirite faith, which treats the Good Man as a semi-divine figure.
[5] At this time, the northern Kiyungu are slowly expanding their areas of settlement along the coast, thanks to the new crops of sweet potato, taro and lesser yams which let them farm the tropics. The process is relatively slow, though, since the Kiyungu don't have much cultural drive for exploration or expansion.
[6] This decision has been taken about fifteen years ahead of when the VOC would historically decide to approve a settlement on the Cape. The earlier settlement is because the VOC's trade is both more profitable and higher volume than it was at the same point in OTL. Even with the casualties from the plagues, the Aururian gold, silver, sandalwood, sweet peppers, and first shipments of kunduri have significantly boosted revenues.
[7] The historical settlement of Cape Town experienced similar early problems, although they were eventually resolved by better strains of European crops.
[8] Van Rijn is being coy about naming the Councillor because the person in question happens to be one of his ancestors, and he considers it immodest to name him.
[9] Persuaded in a manner of speaking, that is.
--
Thoughts?
"Satisfaction comes from doing the proper works of a man."
- Plirite maxim
"A man's worth is no greater than the sum of his ambitions and his balance."
- Nangu saying
--
Werringi, or so his parents named him. One man among many born to the Wolalta bloodline, which itself was one bloodline among many which vied for wealth and pride in the endless struggle of the Nangu.
Werringi would make a name for himself, though, as a sailor and as a trading captain. And, in time, much more. Before he breathed his last on this mortal world, where by his devoutly held Plirite beliefs he would in time be reborn according to the balance of his own actions and the ripples in the wider cosmos, he had earned another epithet.
Kumgatu, he would later be called, a name which meant "the Bold". Awarded for the deeds he performed during his life – one in particular – it was the name by which he would be known in Aururia and, afterward, elsewhere.
--
April 1630
Inner Sea, Southeast of Quamba [Mackay, Queensland]
Stillness surrounded the Dawn Seeker; cloudless, almost windless sky above, and still, deep water below, so clear that it seemed as if the boat itself was floating in the sky.
"Perfect weather," Ouraidai said, from his place beside the steering oar. The same thing he usually said whenever he took the Dawn Seeker out to dive for coral. Of course, if it had not been a perfect day, Ouraidai would not have brought the twin-hulled vessel out of Quamba.
Quailoi approved of that caution, naturally; Ouraidai had been his Elder Brother [1], and taught him so much of what it meant to be a man, including the need for prudence. Even now that Quailoi had married, the two men remained firm friends, and worked the Inner Sea together. Quailoi worked as the coral diver; Ouraidai now deemed himself too old for that kind of work, and steered the boat, watched the rope and helped from the surface.
Ouraidai had steered the Dawn Seeker to the right location; a place where the water was shallow enough to let them see down to the sea floor below, but still deep enough to yield a particularly prized kind of scarlet coral. Any fool could harvest coral from the reefs which marked the boundary of the Inner Sea; finding a valuable sort in the depths was another matter entirely.
Quailoi took his position on the poles which joined the Dawn Seeker's two hulls together, and secured the rope to the poles in preparation to dive. Before he could enter the water, though, Ouraidai called out for him to wait.
Quailoi followed the other man's outstretched finger. Boats had appeared to the south. Three boats with sails of a proper triangular shape but with sails dyed a most peculiar shade of teal that nearly blended into the sea and sky. Doubtless that was why they had not noticed the boats before.
"Have you ever seen boats with sails like that ?" Quailoi asked. It was a proper question to ask an Elder Brother; for a moment, it felt as if he was back in his youth, seeking guidance.
"No. What proper Kiyungu would waste good dyes on a sail?" Ouraidai said. "Especially such an inauspicious colour."
Quailoi nodded. Sometimes Kiyungu from the southern cities were strange, but surely not so foolish as that. Still... "Yet who else sails the Inner Sea?"
"None that I know of," Ouraidai said. "Head-taking Daluming raiding the League cities in the south, yes. But I've never heard of them coming this far, and they prefer to strike by land anyway."
Quailoi could only agree. The Daluming could not be here, and no-one else could sail on the Inner Sea. To the north lay only barbarians who knew not how to farm; better to look for wombats to fly than for them to build boats with sails, let alone ones touched by dyes. But who did that leave? "Is there anyone else who might sail so far?"
Ouraidai did not answer immediately; doubtless considering the question.
While the other man thought, Quailoi looked at the boats again, and realised that they had sailed noticeably closer. Fast movement for ships in such a mild breeze; their sails must truly catch the wind.
Now that the ships were closer, he saw more about them. They were double-hulled, like all decent boats, and large enough to carry several men. The sails were not just dyed teal, either. Each of them had a large hollow circle in the centre, dyed a brilliant yellow.
"That pattern is to identify the ship," Quailoi said. "It must be. The colours are to announce who the ships belong to. Like a banner, but without needing to attach it separately."
"It could be," Ouraidai said. "Doesn't tell us who they are though. Maybe, just maybe, they're Maori from Aotearoa. They'd be from a long way away, but the Maori are said to sail to south of Daluming. Maybe they've decided to come further north."
Quailoi looked south again, to where the ships had come noticeably closer. They were truly moving quickly, even with the poor wind. "Well, we'll soon find out."
--
By 1629, Werringi had earned his path to the second-most senior trading captain of the Wolalta bloodline. His main voyages were to the eastern seaboard of Aururia, to what the Nangu called the Spice Coast, for the much-valued lemon and cinnamon verbena and other spices grown there. His main destination had been the caste-ridden, inward-looking Patjimunra city-states [Hunter Valley, New South Wales], but he had visited further north, too.
In 1629, he found a new inspiration: to discover the homeland of the Raw Men who had come to visit the Atjuntja in the west. These Raw Men had made one brief visit to the Island in 1626, but now seemed to have spurned any further contact.
Werringi decided that if the Raw Men would not come to the Island, then he would go to them. He had recognised that the Raw Men sailed north from Atjuntja lands, and knew that when they had visited the Island, they had continued east to visit the Cider Isle [Tasmania], and had then apparently turned north. So he reached the somewhat incorrect conclusion that the best way to reach the Raw Men's homeland was to sail north along the Spice Coast and then on to unknown regions northward, turning west at some undiscovered point to sail west to the Raw Men's homeland.
Organising the voyage took several months, as Werringi sought to persuade other captains to join him, to find out what tales he could from people who had sailed north (or who claimed they had sailed north), gather provisions, and choose the most suitable ships.
While as a senior captain he had a great-ship to command, Werringi chose to yield that ship and use a smaller vessel. Nangu great-ships could carry more cargo than any other ship, but they had a deeper draft and could not be pulled ashore on a beach at need, unlike the smaller Nangu trading ships. Given the risks and hazards of exploring such completely unknown waters, Werringi preferred to use a vessel which could land without needing a port.
In time, Werringi persuaded two other Wolalta captains to join his voyage, and prevailed upon the Wolalta elder to promote another would-be captain to command of his own vessel. So, on what another calendar would call 14 February 1630, he set out from the Island, leading an expedition of four ships.
The first part of the voyage was rapid, as Werringi guided his fleet through the familiar waters of the Narrow Sea [Bass Strait] and then north to the Spice Coast. The fleet resupplied at the Patjimunra city-state of Torimi [Port Stephens, NSW], a destination which Werringi had visited many times before, and which usually represented the northernmost limit of Nangu voyages.
After leaving the Patjimunra, the expeditions proceeded north more cautiously. Werringi intended not just to reach the Raw Men's homeland, but also to obtain a very detailed knowledge of the journey. After passing the Patjimunra lands, he started to chart the coastline, recording the general shape and key features, and keeping written records of the important events and what he and his crew had seen, including the shifts in the stars.
The expedition visited Yuragir [Coffs Harbour], the capital of Daluming. Werringi had been to the kingdom before, but never as far north as the capital city. Here, he hoped to find out what the Bungudjimay knew about the geography and peoples further north.
Instead, he experienced his first major misfortune. Due to a misunderstanding over cultural expectations [2], the Nangu sailors were challenged by a group of Bungudjimay warriors, and fled for their lives. Werringi himself narrowly escaped capture, but several of the sailors died, and Bungudjimay warriors boarded the last Nangu ship as it left shore. With a fight raging, the Nangu sailors fired their ship and abandoned it for the waves, swimming to the other ships and leaving the armoured warriors the choice of burning to death or drowning.
After this escape, Werringi was careful not to land anywhere else in Daluming, although he maintained his careful charting of the coast. When he reached the Kiyungu lands of the Coral Coast [3], though, he found a much warmer welcome. Never any friends of Daluming, the southerly Kiyungu city-states had established a loose alliance to defend against raids from Daluming, and, in another form, proselytisation from the Yalatji people in the interior, who were increasingly strident advocates of the Tjarrling faith [4].
The southern Kiyungu gave Werringi's expedition a friendly reception, particularly the Kiyungu women, and this delayed the voyage for several days while the two peoples interacted. Werringi tolerated the delay because it served several purposes. It boosted the morale of his sailors, it let them learn the basics of a language which some of the other peoples further north might also understand, and it let him and his fellow captains find out what the southern Kiyungu knew about the world further north.
After leaving the southern Kiyungu, the expedition passed west of Heaven of Sand [Fraser Island] and entered the Inner Sea. Here, they faced a new danger: coral reefs. They had been given sketchy descriptions of the region by the southern Kiyungu, and the reefs had been the feature which had most impressed Werringi. He ordered that their ships sail only during daylight and near low tide, so that they had the best chance to see any reefs, and if they did strike one, they could be carried off it by the rising tide.
With these instructions, progress was slow within the Inner Sea, but much safer than could have been otherwise. The expedition made contact with some of the northern Kiyungu towns, including their northernmost major city at Quamba. These contacts were equally friendly, and led Werringi to recognise the value of sweet potato and lesser yams as tropical crops; the Nangu knew what they were, but had never seen them growing in the warmer climates to which those plants were most suited. However, these contacts did not add much to the expedition's knowledge of the world further north [5].
After leaving Quamba, the expedition reached truly unknown lands. The peoples who dwelt along the shore were mostly hunter-gatherers who were only slowly acquiring crops and domesticated animals from further south, while the waters were warmer and more filled with corals.
Werringi ordered his ships to take even more care. He also decided that for the rest of the expedition, his ships would need to make regular stops along the shore to identify potential resupply points and ports. If possible, they should also establish relationships with the locals, and learn whether they would be amenable to ongoing contact. For the distance his ships were sailing had started to give him some appreciation of how far it might be to the Raw Men's homeland, and if this were to become a regular Nangu trade route, outposts would need to be established along the way.
The voyage amongst the reefs of the Inner Sea was arduous, but Werringi had never lacked for persistence, and kept his captains and crew motivated. In time, they found the reefs fading into the depths beneath them, and felt winds and currents coming out of the west. All of the seasoned Nangu sailors recognised this as a new sea, or at least a new strait, and Werringi ordered his ships to turn to the west, believing that at long last he was nearing the Raw Men's homeland.
In fact, the distance he still had to travel was greater than that which his ships had covered. After negotiating their way through several islands, the expedition found that the land now turned to the south, more than the west. Disappointed, Werringi could only order that the ships continue to follow the coast, and make regular stops to ascertain the nature of the country and the people.
Discouragement followed disappointment as the great exploration continued. Werringi's ships explored what their maps eventually let them realise was a great gulf in the mainland [Gulf of Carpentaria], and then kept going west. On one beach which he would name Blood Sands [on Melville Island, Northern Territory], his ships were attacked by the locals one night when they were beached, leading to a fight with several casualties on both sides, before the locals were driven off.
Enough Nangu sailors were killed in that battle that they did not have enough crew to operate all three ships properly. Werringi made the reluctant decision to burn the third ship, and the surviving sailors crowded into the two remaining vessels.
After Blood Sands, the expedition faced an even more difficult choice. The land started to turn southward again, and there was no indication whether it would ever continue northward. Werringi had to decide whether to strike out to sea and hope that he could find the Raw Men's homeland out over the open ocean, or continue following the coast toward what would, most likely, eventually lead them to the Atjuntja lands.
Had Werringi but known it, if he had sailed a few days across the open sea, he would have reached Timor and probably come into contact with the Portuguese. After much discussion with his fellow captains, however, he decided to continue following the coastline. The expedition had already lost half its ships, and losing another would mean that their sailors could not all make their way home even if they survived the ship's destruction. Even if the Raw Men's homeland could not be discovered on the first voyage, what his expedition had discovered so far would be invaluable to allow further expeditions. And if all else failed, the Raw Men had outposts in the Atjuntja lands; perhaps they could be visited there.
So Werringi's ships followed the coastline west and south with their usual slow, methodical progress. In time they reached peoples who had knowledge of the Raw Men; enough to recognise what ships were, even if not much more than that. That did not make Werringi change his mind; he still believed that the best course was to follow the coast, rather than strike out to wherever these ships sailed.
And so, on 18 September 1631, Werringi's two remaining ships anchored off the shore of the Middle Country, at a Raw Men outpost which its inhabitants called Fort Zeelandia...
--
18 September 1631
Fort Zeelandia [Geraldton, Western Australia]
Sails on the western horizon, or such had been the warning. That had been enough for Governor De Vries to order every available man with a musket to the docks, in preparation for whatever raid might be coming. Word had come by runner – Atjuntja runner; for once their roads brought word faster than ships. The Spanish had raided Fort Nassau a few days before, bringing fire and blood with them. If they planned to do the same here, then De Vries would make sure that they did not find easy pickings.
When the two ships came closer, though, he saw that they could not be Spanish. Twin hulls, triangular sails dyed blue-green with a golden ring in the centre. Smaller than he had expected, too. Certainly not big enough to mount many cannon or carry a large group of sailors. Even if this were somehow a Spanish ruse, so few men would not pose a danger.
"What sort of ships are they?" De Vries asked. "The Atjuntja can't build anything remotely like this."
Pieter Willemszoon, next to him, said, "Can never be sure, but I think that they're Islander ships."
"Islanders? Here?" De Vries said. "The Atjuntja forbid them to come here." A great pity, that, and a greater shame that Governor-General Coen had not pushed more vigorously for trade with the Island. From what De Vries had sampled of their kunduri, in particular, he thought that was a great loss.
Willemszoon shrugged. "The Atjuntja forbid us to sail east of Cape Hasewint [Cape Leeuwin], too, but that hasn't stopped us."
"I suppose. Still, I'd have expected them to go to Fort Nassau before coming here." He paused. "Before the Spanish raided, at least."
The two ships quickly neared the shore, even with the breeze blowing out to sea. They tacked effortlessly, it seemed, and sailed closer to the wind than any ships which De Vries had ever seen.
When the two ships were almost to shore, the crew on one pulled down the sail and threw a rock over the side, with a rope tied to it.
"Anchoring off shore?" Willemszoon murmured.
"Only one," the governor said. The other ship kept on coming, straight to an open place on the dock. As if it had every right to do so.
This close, he could make out the men easily enough. Dark skins like the natives here, although all of them had dark hair, too. That settled it. Nothing the Spanish could have done would have let them send these men here in a ruse. It had to be Islanders, and clearly coming to parley. Prudent, too, to keep one ship out to sea so that it could run for home with word if the first ship were attacked or its crew imprisoned.
"When the Islanders land, send their leaders to my residence," De Vries said. "With an armed escort, of course."
"Sir?" Willemszoon was usually efficient, but he did not follow the governor's train of thought this time.
"They want some sort of bargain, or they wouldn't be coming. Better to discuss that in comfort in my residence than at the docks when surrounded by armed men, don't you think?"
Willemszoon nodded.
Some time later, with De Vries sitting comfortably in his favourite chair, Willemszoon re-appeared. Along with three of these Islanders, dressed in a rather poor state, but then they had surely been sailing for a while. And five Dutchmen, all with muskets and swords. The Islanders did not carry anything more dangerous than knives, but better to take no chances.
One of the Islanders, obviously the leader from the way the others regarded him, spoke in heavily-accented Atjuntja. "May this meeting bring harmony to both our peoples, with the guidance of the Good Man."
The words sounded stylised and formal, even through the heavy accent. It took De Vries a moment to realise that they were a blessing of sorts. Well, he had already known that the Islanders were no proper Christians. Hopefully their pagan gods weren't as bloodthirsty as those of the Atjuntja.
"May God smile on us," he said, also in the Atjuntja language. Except that he used the proper Dutch word for God. He would not deign to invoke the name of the heathen Atjuntja deity, even indirectly.
"My name is Werringi. I am of the..." He paused, and had a rapid exchange of words with one of his fellow captains. "Your pardon, but this Atjuntja language does not have the right word. I am a captain of the great family Wolalta."
"I am De Vries, governor of Fort Zeelandia." He also noted that while this Werringi used the Atjuntja language, he was not very fluent in it. In fact, De Vries thought that he spoke it better than the Islander captain. A puzzle, perhaps, but one to be considered at another time. "Be welcome here, although I am surprised that you have come."
Werringi said, "Your people did not come back to our Island, so we decided to come to you." He had a sly smile as he spoke.
"I understand that the Atjuntja forbid you to sail past... Sunset Point," he said, remembering the Atjuntja name for Cape Hasewint.
"Our agreement with the King of Kings forbids us to sail west past Sunset Point," the Islander said. "So I did not sail that way. My ships came here from the north."
"That's impossible!" De Vries snapped. In Dutch, he realised a moment later, but the other man clearly understood the tone if not the words.
"A bold feat, yes," Werringi said. That sly smile returned at the word bold. "But we have mastered a feat of navigation to match that which you Raw Men have done."
That smug overconfidence needed to be punctured. If not, De Vries would not have revealed something he had always been ordered to conceal. "Not by a tenth, I think. Sailing to the Netherlands, our homeland, takes up to a year, most of it across the open ocean far out of sight of land."
That news weakened the Islander's confidence, sure enough. "A year?" he asked, his smile falling into a frown. Then he and the other two Islanders broke into a heated argument.
De Vries let them argue volubly for a time, as he considered his own position. Orders against revealing anything to do with navigation existed for a reason, although he supposed that mentioning that the voyage took a year would not do any great harm.
Still, the Islanders would certainly have more questions. Unless he could distract them with something more important. He said, "You have truly sailed around all of this land?"
Werringi said, "I said it, and it is true."
"What did you discover? What lands did you find on this voyage?" he said.
Werringi said, "Offer me a cloak for a spar, or a spar for a cloak."
"What the... What do you mean?"
Werringi frowned. "You Raw Men are traders. You know that knowledge comes with a price. You do not ask for a gift of knowledge. Especially not something as valuable as our maps and tales."
Charts? De Vries had not even realised that these Islanders made charts. He wondered, for a moment, what else they knew. "You want to bargain for maps?"
Werringi shook his head. Among that Atjuntja, that was a gesture of agreement. Apparently the same held true for the Islanders, for he said, "I offer a copy of my maps and records of my voyage around the world. In exchange for charts and tales of your own. You will tell me about the land you Raw Men come from, and how you sail here."
This time, De Vries needed to consider for even longer. Charts were protected documents for very good reason; the Company hid its navigational knowledge to gain an advantage over rivals. Still, the bargain was extremely tempting. Learning about the geography of a whole new continent, and of the peoples who lived there, could be invaluable.
Worth trading for knowledge of our own charts and voyages? Yes, he decided, after a while. If he told these Islanders how to sail to the East Indies, that would be nothing which the English and the Spanish did not already know... and the Spanish knew how to sail to the South Land too, now.
In any case, he would not have to tell the Islander captain everything. And no matter what he told them, he doubted that these pagans would traverse the world's oceans and sail to Amsterdam. To Batavia, perhaps, which might be a problem, but hardly any worse than the English who already sailed there.
"Let us discuss this further," he said, and they settled down to bargain.
--
With his landing at Fort Zeelandia, Werringi became the first Nangu captain to seal a trade bargain with the Raw Men. Or the Nedlandj, as he now knew that they were called. He was fortunate, too, that the Atjuntja governor was far too concerned with manoeuvring his soldiers against a possible Pannidj threat to argue much over the presence of Islanders in forbidden country. The Atjuntja governor simply informed him that what he had done was not forbidden this time, so he could visit provided that he did not attempt to trade, and that word would be sent to the King of Kings. It might prove that the treaty with the Nangu would be revised to forbid any travel to the western shores of the Middle Country, regardless of the route.
Werringi quietly avoided mentioning the knowledge exchange, but simply resupplied his vessels with food, which was permitted under the treaty, then set out again. He kept his ships well out to sea this time, rounded Sunset Point, and visited the White City long enough to leave another copy of his charts and journals with the Wolalta who lived there, in case of misfortune on the final leg of the voyage. Then he took his remaining two ships into the seas of endless winds, and returned to the Island. There, his voyage quickly won him a new name...
--
Taken from: "A History of the Dutch-Speaking Peoples"
By Hildebrandt van Rijn
The Cape marked a great landmark to the intrepid navigators who first explored the world's oceans, but as a land for settlement, it would take much longer to gain notice. The native Hottentots were not welcoming of outlanders, and the Portuguese who first explored the Cape had no interest in displacing them. The Portuguese established supply stations further east, and left the Cape largely neglected.
As Dutch and English trade with the Orient expanded, the Cape became a useful stopping point for ships whose crews suffered from scurvy or other malnutritions. It lay at a convenient midpoint between Europe and the Indies, and so by the turn of the seventeenth century, the Cape was regularly visited by European ships.
With the United [Dutch] East India Company's trade with the Orient booming, by 1635 the Lords Seventeen approved the establishment of a permanent settlement at the Cape [6]. The original intent was not for large-scale colonisation, just for a suitable harbour for ships avoiding bad weather or needing repairs, and to allow sufficient provisions to resupply passing ships.
The first expedition reached Table Bay in 1637. The early efforts proved to be a failure. European crops and farming techniques were poorly suited to the lands around the Cape, and food had to be brought in to resupply the settlement [7]. The Lords Seventeen were not pleased to have a victualling station which in fact could not supply victuals to passing crews.
Plans were made to abandon the settlement, until a returning Councillor [of the Indies] who stopped at the Cape noted that the climate there was very similar to that in much of Aururia. He suggested that perhaps crops from the northern hemisphere did not grow as well in the southern, but that Aururian crops would provide a useful alternative.
Given that this particular Councillor [8] was about to join the Lords Seventeen, his idea was well-heeded. The only difficulty was that the Dutch-speaking peoples at this time had very little knowledge of how to farm Aururian crops. There had been previous sketchy attempts to introduce various crops to both Amsterdam and Batavia, which had until then been unsuccessful except for some small success in growing murnong in the Netherlands.
So the Company decided to procure both crops and workers from Aururia. Two hundred Mutjing men and women from Valk Land [Eyre Peninsula, South Australia] were persuaded [9] to settle in the Cape in 1640, and ample supplies of seed for their preferred crops were brought with them.
In line with the Councillor's expectations, the new crops thrived in the Cape. The first red yams were supplied to ships in the first year, and bountiful harvests of cornnarts [wattle seeds] from 1642. Harvests of their variety of flax were also plentiful, which laid the foundations for a weaving industry to supply new ropes and sails to damaged ships.
The endeavour was successful enough, even after some conflicts with the Hottentots, that in 1643 another forty Mutjing families were invited to abandon their struggling homeland and move to the growing settlement at the Cape...
The first significant problems arose in 1645. An outbreak of measles killed nearly a quarter of the Mutjing farmers. The distraught people turned to a religious explanation; they blamed the epidemic on the lack of guidance in how to avoid bringing disharmony. They demanded that the Company bring in a Plirite priest and allow them to build a small temple for him.
The Company officials at the Cape knew that allowing the establishment of a heathen temple in a Dutch colony would not be viewed favourably in Europe. However, to a Company pragmatic enough to maintain trade with the Atjuntja, overlooking the presence of a Plirite priest or two in one of their distant outposts would be no difficult task. Keeping the Cape settlement functioning properly was deemed to be the greater priority, and a Plirite priest was duly invited from Valk Land. They expected, with some justification, that in time the Mutjing farmers would convert to Christianity.
So the first Plirite temple was founded at the Cape in 1647...
--
[1] Elder Brother (or, more rarely, Elder Sister) is a social institution amongst the Kiyungu which involves an older man (or woman) assuming a role as a mentor and lover of a younger person. The mentor is always of the same gender as the younger, and it is considered a valuable way of teaching about love, life, proper values, the social order, and often a craft skill, too. The formal relationship is ended when the younger gets married, although usually the elder party will still be available to provide advice to the younger for the rest of their lives.
[2] That is, the Nangu sailors thought that the best place for their heads would be attached to their bodies, while the priests of Daluming thought that those same heads would be of more use in niches in the Mound of Memory, ie the great pyramid where the heads of certain notables are kept behind glass.
[3] Coral Coast is the name which the Kiyungu give to the historical Gold Coast, Moreton Bay and Sunshine Coast in south-eastern Queensland. This area does not actually produce coral; from here, the Kiyungu would sail north to the Inner Sea (ie the waters bounded by the Great Barrier Reef) to collect it.
[4] The Yalatji people live in the Neeburra [Darling Downs], among the headwaters of the Anedeli [Darling River]. They have gradually converted to the Tjarrling faith, a related belief to the more orthodox Plirite faith, which treats the Good Man as a semi-divine figure.
[5] At this time, the northern Kiyungu are slowly expanding their areas of settlement along the coast, thanks to the new crops of sweet potato, taro and lesser yams which let them farm the tropics. The process is relatively slow, though, since the Kiyungu don't have much cultural drive for exploration or expansion.
[6] This decision has been taken about fifteen years ahead of when the VOC would historically decide to approve a settlement on the Cape. The earlier settlement is because the VOC's trade is both more profitable and higher volume than it was at the same point in OTL. Even with the casualties from the plagues, the Aururian gold, silver, sandalwood, sweet peppers, and first shipments of kunduri have significantly boosted revenues.
[7] The historical settlement of Cape Town experienced similar early problems, although they were eventually resolved by better strains of European crops.
[8] Van Rijn is being coy about naming the Councillor because the person in question happens to be one of his ancestors, and he considers it immodest to name him.
[9] Persuaded in a manner of speaking, that is.
--
Thoughts?
- Location
- Melbourne
So what's happened to Scandinavia so far in this timeline?
