Hendrik Boom was the first freeman who felt the sting of Caapmen
resistance.
The Commander hurried to the quarters of his fiscus, Abraham. 'The Caapmen stole one bull and six milk cows of Hendrik, and fled.' The Commander was shaking. His face red, and his fisted hands twitched at the opening of his frilled sleeves. 'With the help of freeman Reinersz they caught one of the thieves and is holding him hostage.'
'Anyone we know?'
'The leader of the Caapmen.'
'The fat captain?'
'He was not as fast on his legs as the rest.'
The Commander walked with Abraham to the entrance of the hallway. 'Take men. And take Anthony with you. Tell the fat captain not to be anxious. Nothing will happen to him if he makes sure the cattle are restored. If he does, we will reward him.'
When Abraham returned the next day the Commander confronted them as they descended from the wagon. 'What news do you bring?'
'He claims it was our own fault. The Soaquas had seized advantage when they witnessed that little care was taken of the herd. He wanted to stop them but feared that they had already been driven behind the Leopard Mountain.'
'Where does that leave us and the stolen cattle?'
'He gave his word that he will do everything in his power to recover the cattle through his people. In the meantime he will remain with Reinersz.'
'Return tither. Impress upon his heart that I will not release him unless the cattle are returned.'
The Commander was relieved when a report finally reached the fort that all the cattle belonging to the freeman Hendrik Boom had been returned. But, for the first time, worry had taken residence in his head. What was the reason for the sudden surge in cattle theft in his neighbourhood? Whatever the reason, it was a sign that all was not well. He had to get to the bottom of it. He summoned Abraham. 'Further lawlessness must be stopped. We cannot allow these random thefts to spread.'
'Random? No. it was well-planned and executed,' came the response from Abraham.
'That is worrying... but not surprising.'
'The fat captain went to great lengths to point out that not one head of stolen cattle had been found among his herds. He is sure that they were, indeed, stolen by the tobacco thieves, encamped about three hours away. At present he was in contention with them and did not dare to send any of his people thither to ask for the cattle. He would otherwise gladly do so.'
'Do you believe him?'
'No.'
'Neither do I. Be off. Stay alert. The time has arrived to find out who is friend and who is foe.' The Commander paced the grounds of the fort, Gabemma by huis side.
'More acts of cattle theft had been reported,' said Gabemma. 'This time it was the freemen, Visagie, and Stevens who were hit. The Hottentoos had driven off four oxen of Visagie and thrashed the herd. They made off with an unknown number of cattle that belonged to Steven.'
The Commander threw his hands in the ait and snorted. 'Keep Gogosoa in detention. Tell Reindersz not to release him until all the stolen cattle comes back.'
The next day the Commander presented himself, in person, to the freeman, Visagie. 'Any luck with the retrieval of your stolen cattle?'
Visagie responded with a mixture of anger and sadness. 'Regrettably, they are still lost.'
The two men stood side-by-side and looked across the fields where the rest of his slaves were busy ploughing and sowing. The Commander's sight was soothed when he studied the twenty bodies toiling beneath the hot sun, pulling up reeds and trees.
'They are singing.'
'Always. They are always singing.'
'While clearing out those stubb bushes and shrubbery?'
'Always.'
'They sing... While making space for the cultivation of more farmland. That sight, right there, it restores my faith.'
'It does?'
'It does.'
'It is lost on me. At this juncture.
Van Riebeeck was thrown. The very picture that lifted his spirit was lost on the farmer standing next to him, hopelessness carved into his countenance. He searched for the right words to lift the Visagie's spirit.
'Now is not the time to lose faith. Every culprit will suffer the way you are suffering today. That I promise. We will do everything in our power to end this lawlessness.'
The clumsy attempt did not diminish the doom on his face but when he finally responded, his words gladdened the Commander. 'We caught three of the thieves, and they confessed to the theft... but two of them escaped. The third is under guard.'
The despair in Visagie's voice did not go unnoticed. The Commander recalled a different Visagie when he was chosen, as one of the few soldiers, as a freeman. He remembered how his promises of Company grandeur once made his eyes glint.
Drawn from the ranks of soldiers and sailors they played an important role in the Colony. Their daily toil on the farms along Liesbeeck could break his dependence on the locals for proviant. They were part of a chain he dared not alienate. It was time to remind him and all the freemen of their value.
Abraham delivered the invitation to every freeman who farmed along the Liesbeeck in person. Maria and the slaves were up before dark to prepare a feast. Casks of beer brandy and arrack were set aside for them, and it was not long before their moods lifted, and their tongues loosened. In their inebriated hour he made them comfortable around his table and treated them to a meal while Maria brought tears to their eyes with her clavichord. They reminisced about home and unburdened themselves of the unhappiness that lingered in their hearts.
'This evening belongs to you, the life blood of this settlement. Tonight, speak from your heart. Unburden yourselves. The members of the Council are here. The fiscus is here. I am here.'
Caspar Brinkman stood up. 'Our farms are ransacked. We have lost slaves. Harsh action is needed. Halt the cattle theft and this rampant destruction of our farms. The Colony is soft on these marauding bandits. Give us permission to shoot them on sight.' His contribution was applauded without exception.
'We were at the coalface of the Dutch trade, lured into the service of the VOC at too young an age.' Visagie's eyes frisked the faces around the table. 'I remember loading and offloading boat loads of silk, opium, spices, cloth, and slaves. I remember living in the belly of ships for months on end, sailing back and forth between foreign shores to Batavia and the Netherlands. When we became freemen you said our hardships had ended. That a new life had begun for us.'
'Where is the new life,' someone shouted.
'We are still waiting for that new life. We are still waiting for that life of comfort and wealth. How long must we wait?' Visagie sat down amidst a thunderous applause.
Reindersz jumped up. 'Company voyages in search of new territories claimed many of our friends. Colonising new territories led to wars which claimed lives. Ours.' He slammed his fist onto the table. 'Conditions on Company ships were hell. Sailing the high seas from port to port was hell. Sailors lost their minds. Now we are faced with a new hell. What is the Company doing about it?' He surveyed the men around the table. The candles cast a warm glow on their solemn faces. 'Young men who never even felt the warm thighs of a woman....' The chatter had ceased. It was quiet. 'We watched them succumb to disease...and alcohol. And opium.' He swirled the alcohol in the enamel tumbler a few times, unable to continue he gulped down the contents of the tumbler and sat down.
'It is 1658. Where are the profits and the wealth?' Harman jumped up. 'We are not living in comfort.' He bent low and spoke into the face of his friend Jacob. 'Is your profit a fair return on your daily toil?' Jacob shook his head. He went around the table and asked the same question to random freemen. They all responded the same. They shook their heads. 'That is right. It is not fair compensation for our labour. The Company makes all the rules.' He mimics the Commander. 'You are not allowed to trade with the Hottentoo for cattle. You are not allowed to trade directly with the ships. You must buy everything from the Company.' The room broke into laughter at his impression of the Commander. 'And after all that? What is left for us freemen?'
'Nothing,' they shouted.'
'That is right. Nothing. Because the Company pockets all the profits.' He hit the table with his tumbler. The content spilled everywhere. 'We want to trade with the Hottentoo. We want to trade with the ships. We want a fair share for our toil on those farms.'
When he sat down they all hit their tumblers on the table shouting in unison. 'We want more. We want more. We want more.'
Van Riebeeck, realising things were not progressing as planned, rose to his feet. He had other plans for the evening. 'You made it. All of you seated around this table tonight. You were chosen. Delivered from the horrors of those voyages. The wars. Disease. The alcohol. And, yes, the opium. You had arrived on the shoulders of a giant in trade and naval prowess. In the throngs of the Golden Age. You were the ones who grabbed their opportunities with both hands. Opportunities with the name of the VOC written on it. And your tide changed. Here. At this place. This Cape of Good Hope, this tiny settlement at the foot of Africa.' He surveyed the soldiers and sailors in his employ. He knew them because he studied them, without them knowing. He noted their conduct, assessed their ability to lead, and their commitment to the task at hand. 'I, with these,' he said and held up his hands. 'These hands altered your destinies. they wrote the letters that changed your status from soldier and sailor to freeman. They ended your voyage to nowhere.' He lowered his arms. 'You received land. That is your future. That land is the key to the comfort I promised. It is your piece of the Golden Age. Soon you will be entrepreneurs, make huge profits and live in wealth.'
'The Hottentoo are setting our farms on fire. They are stealing our cattle and our slaves. We will not live to see the profits. Or live in wealth if this continues,' said Jan Cloeten.
'We dare not divert our eyes from our purpose, even for one minute. Three months ago, we opened a school for the Angolan slaves brought hither by the Amersfoort. Do you remember what happened? Pieter van der Staal once a sick comforter became a teacher. Look at him now... teaching the heathens to read Christian prayers. He speaks to me, daily, telling me how those children saviour the glass of brandy and two inches of tobacco given to them. Today all bear our names. Soon they will be your source of labour. They will work on your farms and in your homes. Let me hasten to remind you that many of you present here tonight have reported that the strongest of the Angolan slaves that we rescued from the Amersfoort are an enormous revenue of strong labour. Look at Ryk Overhagen on Robben Island. You all know Ryk. He arrived here, like many of you, as a soldier in 1653, now he serves the Company as superintendent on the island. Why? He served the Company faithfully, and he has shown great diligence and attention to the duties I conferred on him. He walked to Abraham and stood behind his chair. 'And here is Abraham. Your fiscus.' He put his hand on Abraham's shoulder. 'Is he not proof that the Company fulfils their promises? Abraham?' He waited for a response from Abraham.
Abraham got up and lifted his tumbler. 'To the Commander,' he said.
'To the Commander,' they responded.
'Today all of you sit here, elevated to the status of freemen. Working the land for your own profit. Yes, those profits can be bigger. That we can work on. But let me hasten to warn you. Some of you are executing your duties with diligence, but some are not. Take care of your lands, your slaves, and your cattle. We will act with speed to stop this lawlessness in the Colony. Punishment will be swift and harsh. Any rebel will think twice to lift his hand against his master or his property. That is my promise to all of you tonight. But. I will not tolerate betrayal in my Colony. If you conspire with the enemy, you conspire against the Colony. That is treason.'