CHAPTER IV

THE FIRST VOYAGE TO INDIA--FAILURE

It was no mean expedition which set sail for the Indies on the second of April of the year 1595 with four ships, 284 men, and an investment of more than three hundred thousand guilders. Amsterdam merchants had provided the capital and the ships. The Estates of Holland and a number of cities in the same province had sent cannon. With large cannon and small harquebus, sixty-four in number, they were a fair match for any Spaniard or Portuguese who might wish to defend his ancient rights upon this royal Indian route, which ran down the Atlantic, doubled the Cape of Good Hope, and then made a straight line from the southernmost tip of Africa to Cape Comorin on the Indian peninsula in Asia.

A few words should be said about the ships, for each was to experience adventures before reaching the safe harbor of home or disappearing silently in a lonely sea. There were the _Hollandia_, proudly called after the newly created sovereign republic of the seven united Netherlands; the _Mauritius_, bearing the name of the eminent general whose scientific strategy was forcing the Spanish intruder from one province after the other; the _Amsterdam_, the representative of a city which in herself was a mighty commonwealth; and lastly a small and fast ship called the _Pigeon_.

Also, since there were four ships, there were four captains, and thereby hangs a tale. This new Dutch Republic was a democracy of an unusually jealous variety, which is saying a great deal. Its form of government was organized disorder. The principle of divided power and governmental wheels within wheels at home was maintained in a foreign expedition where a single autocratic head was a most imperative necessity. What happened during the voyage was this: the four captains mutually distrustful, each followed his own obstinate will. They quarreled among themselves, they quarreled with the four civil directors who represented the owners and the capitalists in Holland, and who together with the captains were supposed to form a legislative and executive council for all the daily affairs of the long voyage. Finally they quarreled with the chief representative of the commercial interests, Cornelis de Houtman, a cunning trader and commercial diplomatist who had spent four years in Lisbon trying to discover the secrets of Indian navigation. Indeed, so great had been his zeal to get hold of the information hidden in the heads of Portuguese pilots and the cabalistic meaning of Portuguese charts, that the authorities, distrustful of this too generous foreigner, with his ever-ready purse, had at last clapped him into jail.

Then there had been a busy correspondence with the distant employers of this distinguished foreign gentleman. Amsterdam needed Houtman and his knowledge of the Indian route. The money which in the rotten state of Portugal could open the doors of palaces as well as those of prisons brought the indiscreet pioneer safely back to his fatherland. Now, after another year, he was appointed to be the leading spirit of a powerful small fleet and the honorable chairman of a complicated and unruly council of captains and civilian directors. That is to say, he might have been their real leader if he had possessed the necessary ability; but the task was too much for him. For not only was he obliged to keep the peace between his many subordinate commanders, but he was also obliged to control the collection of most undesirable elements who made up the crews of this memorable expedition. I am sorry that I have to say this, but in the year 1595 people did not venture upon a phantastical voyage to an unknown land along a highly perilous route unless there was some good reason why they should leave their comfortable native shores. The commanders of the ships and their chief officers were first class sailors. The lower grades, too, were filled with a fairly sober crowd of men, but the common sailor almost without exception belonged to a class of worthless youngsters who left their country for their country's good and for the lasting benefit of their family's reputation. There was, however, a saving grace, and we must give the devil his due. Many of these men were desperately brave. When they were well commanded they made admirable sailors and excellent soldiers, but the moment discipline was relaxed, they ran amuck, killed their officers or left them behind on uninhabited islands and lived upon the fat of the commissary department until the last bottle of gin was emptied and the last ham was eaten. In most cases their ship then ran on a hidden cliff, whereupon the democratic sea settled all further troubles with the help of the ever-industrious shark.

When we realize that the Dutch colonial empire was conquered with and by such men we gain a mighty respect for the leaders whose power of will turned these wild bands of adventurers into valiant soldiers. And when we study the history of our early colonial system we no longer wonder that it was so bad. We are gratefully astonished that it was not vastly worse.

On the tenth of March of the year 1595 the crews had been mustered, the last provisions had been taken on board. Everything was ready for the departure. The riot act was read to the men, for discipline was maintained by means of the gallows and the flogging-pole, and after a great deal of gunpowder had been wasted upon salutes the ships sailed to the Texel. Here they waited in the roads for two weeks, and then with a favorable wind from the north set sail for the English Channel. All this and the rest of the story which is to follow we have copied from the diary of Frank van der Does, who was on board the _Hollandia_ and who was one of the few officers who got safely home.

During the first three weeks it was plain sailing. On the twenty-sixth of April the fleet reached one of the Cape Verde Islands. Some of the wild goats of the islands that had so greatly impressed Linschoten were caught and divided among the sailors, making a very welcome change in their eternal diet of salted meat. Another week went by, and two Portuguese freighters, loaded to the gunwales, appeared upon the horizon. Kindly remember that this was only a few years after the desperate struggle with Spain and while yet any ship that might be considered popish was a welcome prize. Therefore the instinct of all the Hollanders on board demanded that this easy booty be captured. These ships, so the men reasoned, would provide more profit than an endless, dreary trip to an unknown Indian sea; but for once discipline prevailed. The commanders were under strict order not to do any freebooting on their own account. On the contrary, they must make friends wherever they could. Accordingly, the Dutch admiral gave the Portuguese a couple of hams, and the Portuguese returned the favor with a few jars of preserved fruit. Then the two squadrons separated, and the Dutch fleet went southward.

In the end of June the ships passed the equator, and scurvy made its customary appearance among the men. The suspicion that scurvy might have something to do with the lack of certain elements in the daily food had begun to dawn upon the sailors of that time. Of course it was quite impossible for them to carry fresh solid food in their little and ill-ventilated ships, but they could take fluids. Water was never drunk by sailors of that day. It spoiled too easily in the primitive tanks. Beer was the customary beverage. This time, however, a large supply of wine had been taken along, and when they reached the tropics each of the sailors got a pint of wine per day as a remedy or, rather, a preventive of the dreaded disease. But it increased rapidly, and with a feeling of deep relief the sailors welcomed the appearance of wild birds, which indicated that the Cape of Good Hope must be near. Early in August they sailed past the southern point of the African continent, and dropped anchor in a small bay near the spot where now the town of Port Elizabeth is situated. Here our friend Van der Does was sent on shore with two boats to find fresh water. His first attempt at a landing did not succeed. The boats got into a very heavy surf. They were attacked by a couple of playful whales, and on the shore excited natives, reputed to be cannibals, danced about in gleeful anticipation. A storm broke loose, and for almost an entire day the men floated helplessly on the angry waves. When at last they returned to the ship the other sailors had already given them up as lost.

The next day the weather was more favorable, and they managed to reach the shore, where they made friends with the natives. According to the description, these must have been Hottentots. They made a very bad impression. The Hottentot, then as now, was smallish and very ugly, with a lot of black hair that looked as if it had been singed. In short, in the language of the sixteenth century they looked like people who had been hanging on the gallows for a long time and had shriveled into the leathern caricature of a man. A dirty piece of skin served them as clothing, and their language sounded to the Dutch sailors like the cackling of a herd of angry turkeys. As for their manners, they were beastly. When they killed an animal, they ate it raw, both insides and outsides. Perhaps they stopped long enough to scrape some of the dirt off with their fingers, but usually they did not take the trouble to cook their food. Furthermore--this, however, so far was only a suspicion--they were said to be cannibals and ate their own kind.

The happy Hottentot still lived in the Stone Age, and these first European traders were a veritable godsend to a people obliged to hunt with stone arrows. The expedition did not fail to discover this, and for a few knives and a few simple iron objects they received all the cows and sheep they wanted. And, to our great joy, we get our first glimpse of that most amusing and clownish of all living creatures, the penguin. The penguin has risen in the social scale of wild birds since he has become one of the chief attractions of the moving-pictures. In the year 1595 he was every bit as silly and absurd an animal as he is now, when he wanders forth to make friends with the sailors of our South Polar expeditions. Van der Does hardly knew what to make of this strange creature which has wings, yet cannot fly, and whose feathers look like the smooth skin of a seal. Strangest of all, this wild animal was found to be so tame that the sailors had to box their ears before they could force a narrow path through the dense crowds of excited birds.

On the eleventh of August the ships left the safe harbor. Their original plan had been to cross the Indian Ocean from this point and to make directly for the Indian islands, but there had been so much illness among the crew that the plan had to be given up. They decided to call at Madagascar first of all. There they hoped to find an abundance of fresh fruit and to spend some weeks in which to allow the sick people to recover completely before they ventured, into the actual domains of the Portuguese.

Unfortunately, the navigating methods of that day were still very primitive. A profound trust in the Lord made up for a lack of knowledge of the compass. The good Lord in his infinite mercy usually guided the ship until it reached some shore or other. Then the navigator set to work and wormed his way either upward or downward until at last he struck the spot which he had been trying to reach all the time and thanked divine Providence for his luck. The particular bay renowned for its fresh water and vegetables, that the expedition hoped to reach was situated on the east coast of Madagascar, but a small gale blew the ships to the westward. They could not reach the southern cape, and they were forced to take whatever the western coast could provide. That was little enough. There was an abundance of wild natives. Upon one occasion the natives caught a landing party and stripped them of all their arms and clothes before they allowed them to return to their ships. But there were no wild fruit-trees, and upon these now depended the lives of the members of the expedition.

Seventy sailors were dead. Worst of all, the captain of the _Hollandia_, Jan Dignumsz by name, the most energetic of the leaders and famous for his discipline, had also died. A small island was used as a cemetery, and was baptized Deadmen's Land, where rested one-quarter of the men who had left Holland. The situation was far from pleasant when the _Pigeon_, which had been sent out to reconnoiter, came back with good tidings. A tribe of natives had been found that was willing to enter into peaceful trade with the Hollanders and to sell their cattle in exchange for knives and beads. It was almost too good to be true. For a single tin spoon these simple people would give an entire ox or four sheep. A steel knife induced them to offer one of their daughters as a slave.

At this spot the sick people were landed, to be tended on shore. Soon the misery was forgotten in the contemplation of an abundance of wild monkeys, which competed with the natives in the execution of wild and curious dances and which when roasted on hot coals made a fine dish. This idyl, however, did not last long. The "pious life" of the sailors and their attitude toward the natives soon caused considerable friction. One night the natives attacked the camp where the sick men slept. The Hollanders, from their side, took four young natives to their ships and kept them there as prisoners. The four of course tried to escape. One was drowned, pulled down by his heavy chains. Two others hid themselves in a small boat and were recaptured the next day. A few days after this event the mate of one of the ships and another sailor went on shore and tried to buy a cow. They were attacked. The sailor was mortally wounded, and the mate had his throat cut. In revenge the Hollanders shot one of the natives and burned down a few villages. It is a sad story, but we shall often have to tell of this sort of thing when the white man made his first appearance among his fellow-creatures of a different hue.

After this adventure the council of captains decided to proceed upon the voyage without further delay. On the thirteenth of December the fleet started upon the last stretch of water which separated it from the island of Java. After two weeks, however, scurvy once more played such havoc among the sailors that the ships were obliged to sail back to Madagascar. They found the small island called Santa Maria on the east coast. The natives here were more civilized, there was an abundance of fresh food, and the sick people recovered in a short time. Except for a sufficient supply of water, the expedition was ready for the last thousand miles across the Indian Ocean. Santa Maria, however, did not provide enough water.

Once more a sloop was sent out to reconnoiter. In the Bay of Saint Antongil, on the main island, they discovered a small river, and on the twenty-fifth of January the four ships reached this bay. They started filling their water-kegs when on the third of February a terrible storm drove the _Hollandia_ on a shoal and almost wrecked the ship. During the attempts at getting her afloat two of her boats were swept away and were washed on shore. The next morning a sloop was sent after these boats, but during the night the natives, in their desire for iron nails, had hacked the boats to pieces. When thereupon the boat with sailors approached the village, the natives, expecting a punitive expedition, attacked the men with stones. The Hollanders fired their muskets, the power of which seemed unknown to these people, for they gazed at the murderous arms with great curiosity until a number of them had been killed, when they ran away and hid themselves. After the fashion of that day the Dutch crew then burned down a few hundred native huts. Such was the end of the first visit of Hollanders to Madagascar. On the thirteenth of February the ships left for the Indies, but before they got so far the long-expected internal disorder had broken loose.

I have mentioned that the captain of the _Hollandia_ had died on the west coast of Madagascar. The owners of the ships, not wishing to leave anything to luck, had provided each ship with sealed instruction, telling the officers who should succeed whom in case of just such an accident. These letters were to be opened in the full council of captains. Instead of doing this, the civil commissioner on the _Hollandia_ had opened his letter at once and had read therein that the office of captain should be bestowed upon the first mate, De Keyser by name, and a personal friend of the commissioner. It is difficult at this late date to discover what caused all the trouble which followed. De Keyser was a good man, the most popular officer of the fleet, while Houtman, the civilian commander of the expedition, was very much disliked by the officers of all the ships. There is nothing very peculiar in this. Civilians are never wanted on board a fleet, least of all when they have been sent out to control the actions of the regular seafaring people. It is not surprising, therefore, to find the officers taking the side of De Keyser and turning against the civilians. Houtman in his high official altitude and in a very tactless way, declared that he would not recognize De Keyser. De Keyser, to avoid friction, then declared that he would voluntarily resign, but the other officers declared that they would not hear of such a thing. Thereupon Houtman insisted that he, as civilian commander, had a right to demand the strictest obedience to the orders of the owners. The officers told Houtman what they would be before they obeyed a mere civilian. Houtman stood his ground. The council of the captains broke up in a free-for-all fight, and the most violent backers of De Keyser declared that they would shoot Houtman rather than give in. Thus far the quarrel had been about the theoretical principle whether the actual sailors or the civilian commissioners should be the masters of the fleet. But when the man who had started the whole trouble by opening the sealed letter against orders proposed to desert the fleet with the _Hollandia_ he committed a breach of etiquette which at once made him lose the support of the other regular officers. Discipline was discipline. The mutineer was brought before a court-martial and was ordered to be put in irons until the end of the voyage. He actually made the remainder of the trip as a prisoner. The suit against him was not dropped until after the return to Holland. It was a storm in a tea-kettle, or, rather, it was a quarrel between a few dozen people, most of them ill, who were cooped up in four small and ill-smelling vessels and who had got terribly on one another's nerves. It is needless to say that these official disagreements greatly entertained the rough elements in the forecastle, who witnessed this commotion with hidden glee and decided that they would have some similar fun of their own as soon as possible.

Meanwhile the wind had been favorable, and on the fifth of June, after a long, but uneventful voyage, an island was seen. It proved to be a small island off the coast of Sumatra. Sumatra itself was reached two days later, and on the eleventh of the same month the Sunda Archipelago, between Sumatra and Java, was reached. In this part of the Indies the white man had been before. The natives, therefore, knew the power of firearms, and they were accordingly cautious. One of them who was familiar with the straits between the islands offered to act as pilot on their further trip to Bantam. For eight reals in gold he promised to guide them safely to the north shore of Java. The amount was small, but the distance was short. On the twenty-third of June of the year 1596 four Dutch ships appeared for the first time in the roads of Bantam, and were welcomed by the Portuguese with all the civility which the sight of sixty-four cannon demanded. At that time Bantam was an important city, the most important trading center of the western part of the Indian islands. It was the capital of a Mohammedan sultan, and for many years it had been the residence of a large Portuguese colony. Besides Javanese natives and Portuguese settlers there were many Arab traders and Chinese merchants. All of these hastened forth to inspect the ships with the strange flag and have a look at this new delegation of white men who were blond, not dark like the Portuguese, and who spoke an unknown language.

The fleet had now reached its destination, and the actual work of the commercial delegates began. It was their business to conclude an official treaty with the native authorities and to try to obtain equal trading rights with the Portuguese. Houtman was of great value in this sort of negotiation. As representative of the mighty Prince Maurice of Nassau, who for the benefit of the natives was described as the most high potentate of the most powerful Dutch commonwealth, he called upon the regent, who was governing the country during the minority of the actual sultan. He made his visit in great state, and through a number of presents he gained the favor of the regent. On the first of July he obtained the desired commercial treaty. The Hollanders were allowed to trade freely, and a house was put at their disposal to serve as a general office and storeroom. Two of the civilian directors were allowed to live on shore, and everything was ready for business. Thus far things had gone so well that Houtman decided to perform his task leisurely. The new pepper harvest was soon to be gathered, and he thought it well to wait until he had a chance to get fresh spices. What was left of last year's crop was offered for a very low price, but as there was no hurry, no supply was bought.

Unfortunately, this time of waiting was utilized by the Portuguese for a campaign of underhand agitation against their unwelcome rivals. They did not accuse the Hollanders directly of any evil intentions, but did the regent know who those people were? It is true that they claimed to be the representatives of a certain Prince of Nassau. Was there such a Prince? They might just as well be common buccaneers. It would be much safer if the regent would order his soldiers to take all the Hollander people prisoner and to surrender them to the Portuguese, to be dealt with according to their deserts.

The regent, who knew nothing about his new guests except that they were white and had come to him in wooden ships, listened with an attentive ear. At first he did not act, but the Hollanders soon noticed that whereas they found it difficult to buy anything at all in Bantam, Portuguese vessels left the harbor every week with heavy cargoes. At last when the commissary department of the Dutch fleet sent on shore for provisions they were refused all further supplies. Evidently something was going to happen.

To be well prepared against all eventualities, the Dutch captains began to chart the harbor. With the small guns of that age it was necessary to know exactly how near shore one could get in order to bombard the enemy. The natives saw the manoeuvering, and wondered what it was all about. From that moment on there was suspicion on both sides, and at last the tension between them grew so serious that the Hollanders decided to remove their goods from their storehouse and bring them on the ships. But while they were loading their possessions into the boats Houtman and another civilian by the name of Willem Lodewycksz were suddenly taken prisoner and brought to the castle of the regent. This dignitary, afraid of the Portuguese, whose power he appreciated, and yet unwilling to act openly against some newcomers who might be far more dangerous, wanted to keep the leader of the Dutch expedition and one of his officers as hostages until the Dutch ships should have left the port without doing him or his people any harm.

The Hollanders, however, who knew that the Portuguese were responsible for this action, at once attacked the Portuguese ships. Both parties, however, proved to be equally strong, and having fired several volleys at one another, both sides gave up their quarrel and waited until they should be reinforced. Houtman and his companion were set free after the Hollanders had paid a heavy ransom. All this took place in the month of October. Even then Houtman hoped that the interrupted trading might be resumed. Meanwhile, however, the Portuguese had asked for reinforcements to be sent from their colony in Malacca, and a high Portuguese official was already on his way to Bantam to offer the regent ten thousand reals for the surrender of the entire Dutch fleet. Of these negotiations the Dutch commander obtained full details through a friendly Portuguese merchant. Since everybody spied upon everybody else, this merchant's secret correspondence was soon detected, and the culprit was sent to Malacca. As there was now no longer any hope for profitable business, the Dutch fleet made ready to depart. Just before leaving, however, they managed to get some cargo. A Chinaman got on board the admiral's ship, and made him the following offer. He would load two vessels with spices and would leave the port. The Hollanders would attack his vessels and would capture both ship and cargo. Of course they must pay cash and must deposit the money beforehand.

This was done, and in this way Houtman got several thousand guilders' worth of nutmeg and mace. Thereupon the Hollanders left Bantam and tried their luck in several other cities on the Javanese coast; but everywhere the people had been warned by the Portuguese against ungodly pirates who were soon to come with four big ships, and everywhere the ships were refused water and were threatened with open hostilities if they should attempt to buy anything from the natives.

One little king, however, appeared to have more friendly feelings. That was the King of Sidayu, on the strait of Surabaya. He was very obliging indeed, and volunteered to pay the first call upon his distinguished visitors. At the hour which had been officially announced his Majesty, with a large number of well-armed canoes, paddled out to the Dutch ships. The Hollanders, glad at last to find so cheerful a welcome, had arranged everything for a festive occasion. The ships had hoisted their best array of flags, and the trumpeters--it was a time when signals on board were given with a trumpet--bellowed forth a welcome. The _Amsterdam_ was the first ship to be reached. The captain stood ready at the gangway to welcome the dusky sovereign, but suddenly his ship was attacked from all sides by a horde of small brown men. They swarmed over the bulwarks and hacked a dozen Hollanders to pieces before the others could defend themselves. These in turn gave fight as best they could with knives and wooden bars, but many more were killed. At last, however, the other ships managed to come to the relief of the _Amsterdam_, and they destroyed the fleet of war-canoes with a few volleys from their cannon. It was a sad business. Several of the officers had been killed. What with the illness of many of the men there were hardly sailors enough to man the four ships. The _Amsterdam_ looked like a butcher shop. It was cleaned thoroughly, the dead people were given Christian burial in the open sea, and the voyage was continued to the island of Madura.

Here they arrived on the eighth of December, and were once more met by a large fleet of small craft. In one of these there was a native who knew a little Portuguese. He asked to speak to the commander, who at that moment was on the _Amsterdam_. Houtman told the native interpreter to row to the _Mauritius_, where he would join him in a few minutes. This was a good idea, for the people on the _Amsterdam_, who had just seen the massacre of their comrades, were very nervous and in no condition to receive another visit of natives, however friendly they intended to be. But through a mistake the boat of the interpreter did not turn toward the _Mauritius_, but returned once more to the _Amsterdam_, apparently to ask for further instructions. Then one of these horrible accidents due entirely to panic happened. The sailors of the _Amsterdam_ opened fire upon the natives. The other ships thought that this was the sign for a new general attack, and they got out their cannon. In a moment a score of well-intentioned natives, and among them their king, had been killed or were drowning.

After this it could not be expected that the island of Madura would sell Houtman anything at all. There was only one chance left if the expedition was to be a financial success. This was a trip to the Molucca Islands. But for this voyage the ninety-four sailors who were still alive--all the others who had left Holland the year before were dead--hardly sufficed. Furthermore, the _Amsterdam_ was beginning to show such severe leaks that the carpenters could not repair the damage. The ship was therefore beached and burned. The crew was divided among the three other ships and they set sail for the Moluccas.

Before they reached these islands a formal mutiny had broken out on board the _Mauritius_. Suddenly, during the afternoon meal, the captain of the ship had died. He had fainted, turned blue and black, and in less than an hour he was dead after suffering dreadful pains. Healthy people, so the sailors whispered, did not die that way, and they accused Houtman, who did not like this particular captain, of having put poison into his food. Houtman was attacked by his own men, and he was put in irons. A formal tribunal then was called together. It investigated the charges, but nothing was found against the accused Commissioner. Therefore Houtman was released, and the topsyturvy expedition once more continued its voyage.

But it never reached the Molucca Islands, for before they got to these they found the island of Bali. This proved to be governed by a well-disposed monarch. The influence of the Portuguese was less strong in this island than it had been on Java. The Hollanders, too, had learned their lesson, and they refrained from the naval swashbuckling that had often characterized their conduct on Java. On the contrary, they gave themselves every possible trouble to be very pleasant to his Majesty the Sultan. They made him fine presents, and they produced their maps of the fatherland and made a great ado about their official documents. The sultan wished to know who they were. They told him that they came from a country which was situated in the northern part of Europe, where the water turned into a solid mass across which you could drive a horse every winter. This country, according to their descriptions, covered a region occupied by Russia, France, and Germany. There was but little truth in these grandiloquent stories, but they were dealing with an innocent native who must be duly impressed by the great power and the enormous riches of the home of ninety-odd, bedraggled and much traveled Dutch sailors. The account which the sailors gave of their country so deeply impressed the king that he allowed them to buy all the spices they wanted and to collect the necessary provisions for the long return voyage. On February 26, in the second year of their voyage, the three ships got ready to sail back to Holland. One of the civilian directors who with his masterful fibbing had brought himself more particularly to the attention of his Majesty was left behind, together with one sailor. They were to act as counselors to the court, an office which they held for four years, when they returned to Amsterdam. Of the two hundred and eighty-four men who had left Holland in 1595, only eighty-nine returned after an absence of two years and four months.

That was the end of the first trip. It had not been profitable. The sale of the pepper and nutmeg bought in Bali saved the expedition from being a total loss to the investors, but there were not nearly such large revenues as were to follow in the succeeding years. Furthermore, Houtman had not been able to establish any lasting relations with any of the native princes of India. Neither could he report that the first Dutch expedition had been a shining example of tactful dealing with, or kind treatment of the people of the Indies.

But this was really a detail. It was an unfortunate incident due to their own lack of experience and to the intrigues of the rival Portuguese merchants.

From a commercial point of view this expedition was a failure. Yet it brought home a large volume of negative information which was of the utmost importance. It showed that the direct road to India was not an impossible achievement to anybody possessed of energy and courage. It showed that the power of the Portuguese in India was not as strong as had been expected. It showed that the dream of an independent colonial empire for the new Dutch Republic in the Indian islands was not an idle one. In short, it proved that all the fears and misgivings about Holland's share in the development of the riches of Asia had been unnecessary. The thing could be done.