The Dutch (16 page)

It also troubled Willem that his wife, Lady Marion, had been sickly since her arrival. She suffered from recurring high fevers and feelings of physical weakness. The illness led to their first two children being stillborn at birth. Marion did not recover her strength until a frustrated Willem, banished the male healer who was treating her illnesses with bleeding. He replaced the bleeder with a women healer who successfully treated her malaise with fruit juices and herbal potions. Once her health had returned, Marion gave birth to their first son Clifford and less than two years later, his brother Karl. William and Marion had no idea that Clifford would one day become a great Dutch Warlord in the coming conflict with Spain. Nor could they foresee that Karl would remold the family's style of leadership, making it palatable to the new wave of democratic ideals that would soon sweep across Holland. Yet, they were able to watch their sons grow into bright, handsome and headstrong teenagers, inseparable, despite very different personalities. Willem saw to it that he trained both well in the art of war with help from his realm's best men-at-arms.

Clifford was a natural leader and by the time he was fifteen commanded a detachment of mounted men against interlopers. He demonstrated skill and bravery during a few bloody engagements. He had a tendency to be vain and self-righteous, with occasional hints of aristocratic arrogance; well aware of his position as the next Lord of the Droger Land. Karl was a more relaxed young man; he a mellower disposition and, like his father, a natural political instinct which allowed him to get along well with everyone, including his conceited older brother. While both attended the secondary school in the Duchy, their mother had supplemented their education with a series of private tutors to prepare them for their future leadership roles. It was said that young Clifford, who loved history, once complained that Alexander the Great had Aristotle and he had to make do with an assortment of lesser mentoring.

The southern swamp was their playground and a place to escape the scrutiny of their father and his always watchful men-at-arms. The adventurous pair often hunted, fished, and explored this dangerous border of the realm alone. The bow was their weapon of choice, though Clifford once killed a wild boar with a lance. Lady Marion tried to curb these hazardous trips, but her husband often over-ruled her objections because he felt adventure enhanced their son's warrior spirit. At least he did until the two teenagers returned one summer evening with a captured brigand and a number of visible injuries. It seems the boys were trapping more than fish and game during these tramps through the swamp.

That summer the family visited relatives who lived just outside Rotterdam. The two boys quickly grew tired of the city until their aunt suggested they sail on the estuary. Her husband owned one of the converted Rudderman Kaags built by Henri Roulfs. The boys taught themselves to handle the fast little boat whose speed and maneuverability amazed them. The Kaag was a far different craft than the canoes and barges available on Lake Derick. One day they insisted their father sail with them. As they had done on the previous sails, the brothers raced past every ship on the estuary. Their father Willem immediately enjoyed the pure speed of the little craft, often taking the tiller in his good hand. The Kaag had pulled away from every ship it encountered, until it met a larger vessel with a similar yellow cabin. There were two younger boys on that ship who laughingly kept letting the Kaag nearly catch them before pulling away. They soon tired of the game and pulled alongside a dock. Lord Willem told his sons to tie up at the same mooring.

Henri Roulfs was watching his own sons' antics and was scolding the boys when Lord William disembarked and introduced himself. Henry knew of Lord Willem as the man who ruled his ancestral homeland. Willem had already made enough inquiries regarding shipwrights to know Henri was considered the most creative builder in Holland. The two men bonded immediately and Henri took Willem on a tour of his shipyard. He also sent word to Reylana that they would have three additional guests for the mid-day meal. While Reylana scampered about catering to their noble guests, Willem told Henri of his need for a new type of craft to guard his southern territories. After lunch, Henri suggested the boys take the Jacht for a sail while they continued their conversation. Young Clifford chose to remain, while Karl, Teewes and Petrus went sailing.

Henri sat at his writing table and questioned Lord Willem about the craft he needed. As he spoke, Henri listened to Willem's needs and carefully drew a sketch of a vessel that was far different from anything he had ever designed. It had a stubby triangular keel and an oak hull strong enough to beach on any terrain. It was an open craft, with the bottom angled to displace the maximum amount of water on a shallow lake. The boat could be driven by the wind, using a single trapezoid sail, or, it could be rowed by ten men sitting two abreast. The bow area was re-enforced to allow for the placement of a small swivel gun with room for a gunner. The stern area could accommodate a tillermen and the vessel's commander. Henri felt it would be faster than a canoe and capable of delivering fourteen heavily armed men to any location. Lord Willem was delighted with the design.

Henri gave Willem a rough estimate of the cost of building the vessel and suggested a few shipbuilders capable of the task, since his own allocation of timber was already committed to other projects. Lord Willem explained he wanted six of these vessels and would provide the quality and quantity of oak needed to build such a flotilla. Without further discussion, the two men bound the agreement with a handshake. During the earlier conversations, young Clifford impressed Henri when he told of the need for a strong hull to protect the crew against enemy projectiles and argued unsuccessfully for an additional swivel gun mounted at the stern. Henri incorporated the young lord's idea about a sturdy hull into his final design.

Upon his return, Willem and his soldiers spent a few days wresting control of higher ground far out in the swamp from a band of trespassing Germans. That drier patch of ground had the perfect cluster of the oak trees needed. After the Germans were driven away, his men rapidly downed the trees and floated them to the Duchy's sawmill. At the mill, the great windmill-driven saw blade struggled with the dense wet oak as it turned the logs into transportable timber. The timber was stacked on grain barges allowing the wood to dry on the trip to Henri's shipyard. Lord Willem generously sent enough timber to build five flotillas and Henri returned his kindness by building a sailboat designed for shallower water as a gift to the family. That winter, Clifford was a frequent visitor to the Roulf's home and participated in the fleet's construction. Clifford made suggestions that ranged from beneficial to foolish. One of his best ideas was to paint each boat light blue so they would blend into the color of the lake: a vainer proposal was to add a small top mast capable of flying his family's crest.

On a calm sunny day in late April, when the waters of the estuary were tranquil enough to avoid swamping the small boats, the fleet began its journey to the Droger Land. The flotilla, led by the sailboat headed up the estuary. Henri hired the entire crew of a ship being overhauled in Rotterdam to deliver the gunboats. He brought along the ship's captain, a friend, well seasoned in naval warfare. Henri hoped the French captain would teach Lord Willem basic naval tactics, while his sailors taught his men to row in unison, use the sail, and load and fire each swivel. With good wind, the oars were not needed until the boats reached the canal that led to the Droger Land. As they entered the canal, the winds diminished and the sailboat had to be towed. As the wind returned, Clifford halted the fleet just out of sight of the Keep and had the swivel guns loaded with powder. He returned the sailboat to the head of the column and had each gunboat raise a green banner which contained the family crest to each topmast. While his family and hundreds of residents looked on from the Keep, Clifford ordered the swivel guns to fire a salute as the little fleet floated past the stone fortification. Clifford's parents and the crowd enjoyed the pageantry. No one enjoyed it more than young Clifford.

For the next few days the experienced sailors taught Willem's men to row, sail, and fire the swivels. Rowing was the most difficult skill to be learned, and it would be a year before the little gunboats reached their maximum rowing speed, but the volunteers mastered enough of the basic skills to make the new fleet operational. The fleet would receive its baptism of fire much earlier than expected. The captain shared the naval tactics and strategies he thought helpful against potential adversaries. He and Henri remained after his sailors had returned to Rotterdam for Willem had arranged for Henri to meet relatives who bore the Roulfs' name. Those distant relatives told him about their family's history and the special bond shared with the van Weirs. Henri's military training was limited to handling a pike in the militia and learning to discharge a pistol. He was surprised so many of his ancestors were warriors. Henri never seriously contemplated going to war, until a signal fire one night warned of an ongoing attack on one of the lake settlements.

Almost without thinking, Henri took the position of tillermen alongside his French friend. Lord Willem, with Clifford at his side, gathered enough men to launch three of the gunboats. Strong winds from the coast, channeled through the canal, made for a rapid trip across the dark lake. As dawn broke they were close enough to see a cluster of fleeing canoes and a barge laden with stolen goods. Lord Willem wisely followed the suggestions of the French Captain. He had the rowers rest and prepare for battle, while the power of the wind was used to intercept the enemy. The three gunboats closed the distance so rapidly that the intruders could do little but surround their barge with the smaller canoes in an attempt to defend their booty.

Both sides were armed with crossbows, harquebuses, and pistols but the solid oak hulls of the gunboats, and the firepower of the swivels, gave Willem's fleet the advantage. Most of the bandits were forced to fight from fragile canoes. At first, the boats lay off at a distance letting the swivel guns and harquebuses soften up the exposed enemy. The firing continued until the gunboats had depleted their powder. By this time, few bandits in the canoes survived the devastating gunfire, and many on the barge were wounded or killed.

Lord Willem ordered the three boats forward. With a sword in his undamaged hand, he led a party of boarders that killed the remaining brigands on the barge in fierce hand-to- hand combat. As the battle raged, Henri noticed Clifford fighting bravely at his father's side. Henri had also shown courage. He remained calm during the engagement, firing and reloading his pistol while enemy bolts imbedded themselves in the sturdy oak hull in front of him. His pistol shots accounted for at least a few of the dead brigands. After the battle Lord Willem said for all to hear, “You fought well, shipbuilder; you were as solid as your boats.”

That was a high compliment because Willem's soldiers were referring to the gunboats as “Iron Boats.” Their sides were not pierced by a single arrow or bolt. The hard wood from the ancient oak trees even rendered the wanderers' harquebus fire ineffective. The hulls had not shattered when struck by balls, and the force of the shot was spent when it did pass through the hard wood and only dented the breast-plates and helmets of the men struck. The fleet Henri built had proven itself in actual combat. As he left for home, Lord Willem gave him an antique Germanic sword, telling him that it had been carried by many of his ancestors in protecting the people of the Droger Land. The gifts made Henri remember in his haste to join the battle on the lake; the only bladed weapon he had taken was his shipbuilder's ax. He was glad he had not used that precious tool to shed blood.

Henri returned to Rotterdam in professional triumph; the outstanding performance of his fleet had excited the maritime community. It had given other shipbuilders a new product to be copied and sold in the marketplace. Henri was honored by a banquet at the Guild Hall. Little did anyone imagine that such gunboats would play a decisive role in the coming war with Spain. They would help the Dutch control the rivers and dominate the countryside. Similar gunboats would protect the inland waterways, sometimes limiting Spanish advances into Dutch held territory when all else failed. Henri received a hero's welcome for the personal courage he displayed while accompanying his ships on their maiden voyage into combat. The Rotterdam Estate presented him with a finely crafted silver plated wheel-lock musket with the raised image of the fleet engraved on its oak stock. It was one of many gifts of weapons presented to him by militia, guild, and trade groups. His sons saw to it that all these gifts were exhibited in the parlor with the family's ancestral sword, given to him by the Baron, as the centerpiece of the display.

Reylana seemed oblivious to her son's efforts to memorialized Henri's accomplishments and met his triumphant return with cold indifference. As a wife and mother, Reylana was having a difficult time coping with life and circumstances since Johanna's death. Fate seemed to have accumulated an endless cycle of obstructions to her treasured independence, despite her best efforts to find an acceptable compromise. To her credit, she voluntarily began to manage the day-to-day financial operations of the shipyard, which Johanna had previously handled so well. Henri's status as a premier shipbuilder eliminated the need for promotion, but her husband had never mastered the dollars and cents of the business. Reylana was forced to use her commercial expertise to fill that void. She hired a nanny to help care for the sometimes rambunctious boys. Luckily, the young woman developed a good rapport with Teewes and Petrus and assisted them with their school work, giving Reylana a few more hours of precious personal time. Yet, travel was becoming hazardous for those living barely even within the Ban-Palen posts. Beyond the city's walls, personal safety became an issue as hordes of people, displaced by famine, disease, and warfare, wandered aimlessly outside of Rotterdam. The city, once a bastion of safety, found its security forces stressed in maintaining public order. Henri was forced to hire two former soldiers to protect his family and the shipyard. The boys had to be accompanied on their trips to school and Reylana needed an escort on her now infrequent visits to the city. Worse still, in her mind, Reylana found she was expecting another child as Henri had committed to build Lord Willem's fleet. Though still a young woman, eleven years had passed since she carried a child and she felt overwhelmed at the prospect of raising another infant. As her belly swelled, she received little consolation from her Calvinist faith, for she thought it preordained that her family would be limited to two children. The unexpected pregnancy filled her day with nagging physical pains she had not encountered during earlier pregnancies. As the baby grew within her, so did her resentment toward the baby and her husband. She found it annoying that Henri seemed so delighted with the prospect of another child.

When the baby boy was born, it was well after sunset. The delivery exhausted both mother and midwife. Even by candlelight, Reylana saw this child bore little family resemblance to his brothers at birth. He had a stocky body and a head was covered with dark black hair. It was in pointed contrast to the lean build and light complexion of her first two children. The baby showed little trace of her own Visigoth ancestry or Henri's Germanic tree. The dark colicky infant soon overwhelmed the weary mother, already weakened from the long ordeal. Reylana instinctively knew this would be a demanding baby, contented only when feeding or sleeping. Her maternal instincts made her love the child but she knew this new baby would be difficult to like.

Reylana named the infant Gustoff after a “character of the night' she had once seen in a stage play. The baby's irregular sleep patterns made an adequate night's rest impossible. Reylana's constant weariness inhibited her recovery and any hope Henri had for resumption of intimacy. The fatigue affected Reylana's physical appearance and she noticed her well proportioned body was not returning to its previous dimensions. While still a remarkably beautiful woman, Reylana knew this child's birth had stolen a bit of her beauty along with her treasured independence. She vowed this type of situation would never, ever, happen again. Despite God's laws and the physical needs she shared with Henri, Reylana vowed this would be her last child.

With his household in turmoil, Henri tried to schedule work at a slower pace, hoping to comfort his wife. He planned to delay construction of a newer version of his Jachtschips and spend more time with Reylana. Yet his new status as a local hero prompted a much faster allocation of wood from the guild than he expected. The new timber's arrival only added to the huge supply of wood left over from the gunboat project which he had stored within one of the boathouses. He knew that stock-pile would be crucial, when the time was right, for him to progress to the next logical step in his jacht designs. Henri wanted to design a much more sophisticated Jachtschip. One capable of carrying men and cargo on the longest of ocean voyages. But for the moment, because his peers were looking on, he was forced by custom to use the guild's allocation. He chose to build a less complicated Jacht, but that still consumed time that should have been spent calming the turbulent seas within his marriage. Since Gustoff's birth, Henri's sex life deteriorated into brief moments of onanism. Henri again became the hesitant man of his youth. He even avoided discussing the issue of intimacy with his wife.

Reylana felt she couldn't discuss her real feeling with Henri for she knew he would consider not wanting children an abomination of nature, if not secretly within himself, an affront to some high law of some unknown deity. She knew that her feelings were at best sinful, and at worst could lead to damnation by her all-powerful God. Reylana sometimes wondered if she hadn't already been so damned. In desperation, she turned for advice to a woman in the healing arts. She assumed the knowledge-able midwife, who had used simple pepper to provoke the massive sneezing that brought Gustoff to term, would know about such things. Reylana was relatively naive about her body and hoped the midwife could tell her how to avoid future pregnancies without breaking God's laws. When she attempted to discuss the matter with the trusted midwife, the woman was too fearful to even discuss the topic with her.

The reason for the woman's fear went back a hundred years. It began when the Black Death dramatically decreased the European population, and every king sought to repopulate their kingdoms. Preventing the birth of a child became a criminal act. Women, the majority of healers, were forbidden to provide what little information was available about controlling birth. The male rulers, knowing only women had such knowledge, had females relegated to only the most elementary positions in the healing arts. In less than a decade, the kings with the support of the Catholic Church saw to it that men won control of the healing profession. The female healers, courageous enough to still provide such information to other women, were charged with witchcraft and sorcery, and burned alive. Reylana's trusted midwife, through ignorance or fear, could not answer her questions, but she was a good enough friend to give her the name of a woman who might know about such things and this woman was no witch.

A few days later Reylana visited one of the poorest neighborhoods in Rotterdam. She was accompanied by her armed escort and both were hooded to avoid being recognized. She was visiting a French woman named Jeannette, once a proud courtesan in Brussels, who decades ago had come as a refugee to Holland. Her mother had once been a prominent healer in Paris, first jailed, and ultimately garroted, for continuing to provide banned information to her female patients. Reylana was graciously received at a dilapidated house. The courtesan had fallen on hard times since advancing age had forced her retirement. She retained few of the rewards she once acquired, sharing her bed with some of the most prominent lords in the Low Countries. Reylana felt some sympathy for her. Reylana was told the woman had no children to care for her which made her think the plight of this lonely woman might well indicate she possessed a solution to Reylana's predicament.

Jeanette was all business and assumed she knew the reason for Reylana's visit and she did. She offered Reylana, for a small fee, her mother's thoughts on the avoidance of conception. For a larger fee she would share the method she used throughout her lifetime to avoid childbearing. Courtesans such as Jeanette, who entered into courtly relationships, knew the birth of a child often caused complications for their benefactors. Those who refrained from having children during these relationships could always demand greater rewards. Reylana handed the courtesan the smaller fee telling her she might still consider a second purchase. Jeanette explained that her mother believed a man's milky cream, like honey, needed to sweeten the soul of a woman's womb to cause conception. The simplest means to avoid pregnancy was for the man to withdraw before ejaculating within a maiden. The courtesan said the problem was that men are basically selfish and even the most considerate man will succumb to pleasure and fail to withdraw. To safeguard against such irresponsible behavior, her mother had counseled women to place a small amount of beeswax, carefully soaked in vinegar within them. Her mother felt the combination usually, but sadly, not always, made conception nearly impossible. Reylana thought about what she had just been told and reached for more coins.

She later returned home to find the child had again put her household into total disorder. Gustoff had awakened and discovered his mother missing. He began loudly crying; only occasionally pausing to replenish the air in his lungs, refusing the milk maid's breasts. The nanny was forced to summon Henri from the shipyard. Only five months old, Gustoff would not be appeased or distracted from his fit. When Reylana arrived she had a good-natured look on her face and playfully scolded Henri for “upsetting their sweet child,” gently picking up Gustoff, allowing him to feed until he fell asleep. After putting the boy in his cradle, she signaled for her husband to follow her to their bedroom. The room was cold, so Henri nervously threw too much dry wood on the fire causing it to over-blaze; much like the fireplace once did when they lived in the little cabin. Reylana truthfully told her husband she had visited a courtesan-healer and wanted him to listen carefully to what she was about to say. She began by assuring Henri her love for him was as bright as the scorching fire. She told him she was proud of his success as a shipbuilder and a warrior, but most important to her, he had always been an understanding husband. For thirteen years she found him a loving partner with whom she willingly shared the trials and triumphs of their marriage. Reylana said she remembered each wonderful warm moment they spent together but she explained, he as a man could never share the pain and anguish, she as a woman felt, during the birth of their last child. Reylana told Henri she would not repeat such a suffering. Adamantly, she demanded his support.

Reylana then shared the information she had purchased for her second fee. The courtesan had told her that children could only be conceived in the fourteen days that immediately followed a menstrual cycle each month. Reylana told her husband she was willing to re-establish normal intimacy outside of that time frame. Henri now understood his wife's fears and desperately wanted to restore normalcy to their marriage. He consented, knowing he had little choice. Reylana felt a bit of guilt for Henri would never learn about beeswax and vinegar. She found the very idea repulsive and would never trust, even Henri, to a timely withdrawal. However, she had enough faith in the courtesan's information to whisper to Henri, “I believe today is the sixteenth day.”

Within a few short months the reunited couple learned to better control the attention-seeking behavior of their contrite child and rekindled their physical relationship. They added simple things such as moonlit walks along the banks of the estuary to enrich their romance. The reality of those times meant that Henri was armed with a pistol when the strolls took them outside the Ben-Palen posts. On one of those long walks, they came upon an inlet where a waist-deep stream sent fresh water rolling into the estuary. The stream barred their way to the other bank where a tall, man-made mound of stone and earth had been built by ancient people. Local people thought it was once a great watchtower protecting the people from sea raiders. The couple daringly shed their clothes, leaving them and even Henri's pistol behind when they waded across the stream. When they reached the other side, unclothe they climbed the mound. Like newlyweds, they spent a few hours making love atop the man-made hill taking in the picturesque view. Because of the full moon, they saw Delft and the North Sea in the distance. They would often return to that high ground, if only to look out over Holland and for a few hours find refuge from the new and difficult problem they were forced to deal with within their household.

That problem, Gustoff, had reached his first birthday when he began to suffer a mysterious coughing illness which often put him on death's doorstep. Whenever the seasons changed or there were some other fluctuations in weather, the illness began with the same progressive symptoms. Gustoff began spitting up a clear fluid, which quickly turned green, and ultimately a brown liquid would coat his throat, inhibiting breathing. The only relief was to keep steaming pots of water on the fireplace. The vapors helped Gustoff‘s lungs fill with precious air. For the next three years, the frequency and severity of these attacks increased, and the parents expected Gustoff to die. Somehow the pugnacious child managed to survive. Reylana felt the illness was the punishment of God for not wanting more children. She began to pray to Jesus Christ, asking for God's understanding. She begged the Lord not to punish her child for her sin. For whatever reason, after four years of prayer, the child's symptoms miraculously ceased.