The Way We Were

Poor people have little to lose when they risk everything to try and get ahead, but this doesn’t make their lives any easier. In the past, destitute Europeans joined armies or navies more for the uniform and the promise of regular meals than for any strong ideological convictions. This scenario now plays itself out in Africa, where military despots and factional leaders feed and equip eager followers who have no other means of support.

Modern Germans enjoy a high standard of living and excellent social benefits, but this wasn’t the case 250 years ago, when most of Europe was impoverished, under-developed and wracked by dynastic and religious wars.

Young men who wished to escape the misery of rural smallholdings ankle-deep in mud and pig manure, walked hundreds of kilometres westwards towards the Netherlands, where – they had heard – soldiers were recruited for VOC service in Asia or the Cape of Good Hope.

When they arrived, ragged and broke, they discovered that recruiting took place only three times a year, when far too many hopefuls turned up for the number of vacancies. They also learned that the rates of pay for the lower ranks were so poor and involved so many deductions that Dutchmen hesitated to enter company service, particularly as soldiers.

Some harassed souls must have nurtured bitter thoughts of suicide, but hope was at hand. Agents, known as crimps, were always on the lookout for men worth staking. They offered to house and feed hapless newcomers until the next hiring season in return for IOUs promising to pay back such loans from future earnings.

According to the VOC historian Charles Boxer, there were over 200 such boarding establishments in Amsterdam in the 1770s. Prospective recruits were crowded into unventilated attics, garrets and cellars with no proper sanitary facilities, given poor food and treated much like newly-captured slaves for up to five months at a stretch.

The captives were let out to join scores of other hopefuls when a drum-roll announced the next recruitment. They all pushed towards the entrance, where they were admitted in batches of 10 to 15, given muskets and asked to carry out various drills under the eyes of an experienced officer.

Those who performed well were registered and told to prepare for sea. They were given official company promissory notes, which they had to hand over to the crimps who had staked them. These were usually for 150 guilders and would be deducted from their meagre salaries over the next five years.

The new soldiers were also given printed orders for wooden chests, which had to be filled with clothing and other necessities. These items were supplied as cheaply as possible by the crimps. Uniforms were supplied by the company once the soldiers reached their destination and had to be paid off in instalments, together with 4.5 guilders for the chest.

Their new possessions consisted of small supplies of civilian clothing, one pair of shoes and woollen stockings, a little barrel of gin, some cheap pipes and tobacco, a canvas hammock, a canvas mattress stuffed with cow-hair and a knife, spoon, mug and water bottle.

Unpleasant as the crimps seem, they took several risks which had the potential to drastically reduce their profits. Their chosen recruits might run away before enlisting, be turned down for service or die before repaying their debts.

Every effort was made to get the next VOC flotilla ready for sea. Three fleets of 16 ships sailed regularly at about Christmas, Easter and Michaelmas (the feast of St Michael the Archangel on September 29).

This was a costly exercise as the ships had to be thoroughly overhauled and made seaworthy for a voyage to Batavia, which might last 10 months or more. The work was directed and carried out by carpenters.

Nautical equipment and food had to be carefully stowed below decks. The officers dined reasonably well but the rations intended for lowly recruits were sometimes of poor quality, including meat from sick animals, rancid bacon, spoilt cheese and dubious fish. Little wonder that diarrhoea and scurvy accounted for many shipboard deaths and only one third of the ordinary soldiers who enlisted for VOC service ever returned to their homelands.

Careful calculations had to be made regarding the amount of water needed to provide each man with a daily minimum. Potable supplies were drawn from Dutch rivers and wells, and sealed in oak barrels, but the quality deteriorated as the voyage progressed. Newly-opened barrels tended to give off a disgusting smell of rotting eggs which sometimes disappeared after exposure to the air.

Next week: Going to sea.