Minister de Voogd, tall and in his mid-twenties, walked into Commander Wagenaer's office with his Bible clutched in one hand. Word among the soldiers in the taps abounded of jokes about a giraffe that is too energetic for the pace of the older folk of his congregation.
It had been a long day and Wagenaer was eager to dispose of his last appointment with speed. He got right to the point. 'The death of van Arckel left a spiritual void in this Colony, Minister de Voogd.'
'That becomes evident every day.'
'Then your work is cut out. Our salvation rests on those shoulders of yours, are you ready?'
Unlike his predecessor, Johannes de Voogd, had urgency in his movements. His sentences were short, his responses succinct and he did not speak as if he was preaching from his pulpit. It was refreshing that his mannerisms had none of the piousness which was a great irritation when time was of essence. He took an instant liking in the young priest.
'The Lord placed me here. He will equip me, Commander.'
'Zest and reverence for the calling. I can work with that.'
'Thank you.'
'Which brings me to the baptism of slave children.'
De Voogd pressed his Bible tighter under his arm. 'Baptising them is a start. But their numbers are growing. Rapidly. That is,' he sighs, cranes his neck, pivots it and pouts his lips. 'A concern for the church...'
'For the Company too, especially my administration.' Commander Wagenaer stared at the minister for a split second longer than necessary. 'May I call you Johannes?'
'Sure.'
'Johannes,' he said. 'The Netherlands, the Statutes of India, the Lords Seventeen, the church... We all agree. There are far too many unbaptised slaves running around. As you are aware, there was an appeal from the church to stop this illegal communication of the flesh.'
'Then the church and the Company are of one mind on the topic. We must legitimise concubinage. Through marriage.'
'Johannes, when I arrived here, I wrote to Batavia. They assured me they were in discussion with the Netherlands on this matter. A tender matter it is. Indeed.'
'You lost me Commander. I was under the impression that marriage follows baptism. We baptise the children and the parents and they get married.'
'There is no easy solution to your holy dilemma. The instruction is to baptise only.'
'Our Holy dilemma,' de Voogd corrected him.'
'Of course. Of course.'
'It is encouraging to hear you say that, Commander but I would fail in my duty-.'
'My predecessor's policy of fructification left us with a moral problem and pressure from the Netherlands and India. And this is where we are.'
'Fructification?' De Voogd repeated the word with furrowed eyebrows. 'Fructification as in the way we understand it?'
'The multiplication of slave labour through carnal communication. Fornication. Concubinage. Is there another way to understand it?' He threw his hands in the air. 'The result of that policy is all around us. Talks back home speculate about fetuses strewn along the beach. It is-'
'A dilemma. Morally and spiritually.'
'That is why it is incumbent upon us to pacify the church in the Netherlands. Baptise as many as you can. Whatever makes the Church sleep better in the fatherland. But we all know the truth. This is an age-old dilemma.' Wagenaer snorts. 'It was a problem in your holy Bible too, was it not?'
'The church has an obligation. It must stem the tide of immorality-' Objected de Voogd.
'In the meantime, what about this tide of half breeds running around? A blind man can see who fathered them.'
'The church views the sin of concubinage seriously-' The preacher rubbed his beard. 'There are also misgivings about the severe punishments of your predecessor. The torture methods imposed on slaves.'
'That is why you are here. Straight from the ranks of the Dutch Reformed Church. Together we can turn things around.'
'I want to. And I will... but these practices must end. All the offspring of such couplings should be baptised, and given a Christian upbringing. They have European blood in them and therefore we have obligations. They must be manumitted.'
'Not going to happen. Over these three years I realised one thing: survival in this wilderness necessitates certain practices. With all these officials, sailors, and soldiers...there are not enough women out here. I have been instructed to look the other way. I advise you do the same. For the sanity of your soul.' He studied the face of de Voogd.
'The church must baptise but the Company encourages the continued practices?'
'As the Colony's Minister, one major task must consume you.'
'Saving souls. I know.'
Wagenaer chuckled. 'That too.'
'That is my only task.'
'Of immediate importance is a church council. Its establishment must proceed with speed. With the help of deacons and elders you should have more support than your predecessor when it comes to these sticky issues. Focus on that. There is enough time to prioritise the council and save the souls of as many heathens as you can. But manumission remains the prerogative of the Company.'
'It is contrary to the laws in the fatherland-'
'Minister de Voogd. Let me put it bluntly. Random manumission will not happen. The slave numbers have declined. Drastically. We do not have enough slave labour to meet the labour demands of the Colony. Soon I must build a proper fort. A castle to house future Commanders and high-ranking officials. That is why Meerhoff is exploring Madagascar. To meet our labour needs.'
'That brings me to the wife of Meerhoff.'
'Stop. Eva's indiscretions are tolerated because of her husband. The end justifies the means. The rest remains between the pillows and the sheets.'
'Currently she is on the mainland for the birth of her third child, but her drunken behaviour is embarrassing. Unacceptable. Not just for the church. For everyone. Then there is the matter of the tap dens.'
Wagenaer pulled on his beard while he shifted his weight. 'The privilege of an alcohol pacht brings comfort and prosperity.' He glanced at de Voogd. 'That is a fact. The Council is inundated with requests for new tap houses. Colonists fail at their farm duties on purpose because there are more profits in tapping. Your work is cut out for you, and so is mine.'
'I pray you and the Council will refuse more tap pachts.'
'At some point.'
'These taps are an evil. Soldiers spend their whole wages in the taps.'
'Who, Johannes, puts more revenue into the Company's coffers?'
'Commander, we cannot, in good conscience, judge the lifestyle of Eva Meerhoff without placing blame at the doors of the taps. I implore you, in the name of God, do not open more taps. It will wipe out the decency of this Colony and its people. Or what is left of it.'
'Easier said than done. The tapster Wouter Mostaert had even requested to buy alcohol directly from visiting ships, and no longer from the Company warehouse. He will get his wish. You know why? Alcohol pays for the expenses of the Colony. It is an evil. A necessary one.'
'You have power. Do not approve it.'
'One challenge at a time, my young friend. One at a time.'
'One last matter... the one-ear convict. I want her under my wing. From what I gather she suffered quite an ordeal at the hands of your predecessor. Place her into the fold of Christianity. She must not go through life without experiencing the other side of us, and the love of God for all people.'
'What did you have in mind? The Company demands their pound of flesh from every slave.'
'The congregation is growing. Let the one-ear slave work at the church on Sundays.'
'From these records,' he said and pulled a book towards him, wet his pointer and paged through it. 'You have a slave in your employ, one Lysbeth van Bengale. How do you justify another?'
'Only on a Sunday for light duties after the service. If we save one soul here on earth, the angels rejoice in heaven.'
'I will gather the necessary advice from my second in command. He is a great source of information. And very balanced. After all, this is a convicted slave we are talking about.'
'I believe there is another convict slave, Catrijn, who is treated far better than her convict status allows.'
The Commander sneered. 'From what I gather she enjoys the ear of influence. She ingratiates herself with people, men who can shape her future. Not your one-ear convict.