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He took out his watch. 'Lausser, don't forget the orders to the forts.'

'I took the liberty of giving them earlier, Your Excellency.'

Van Someren nodded. Lausser was trustworthy and reliable.

and he wished Maria was to marry him, instead of that sharp - eyed young naval officer, Jules, whose sole topics of conversation were republicanism, the latest French victories, and the villainy of William V, the Stadtholder of Holland, and his son, the Prince of Orange, for having fled to England.

For several years, van Someren reflected, deliberately forgetting his prospective son - in - law, he had not only kept his job a Governor, but kept his head on his shoulders (no mean feat for anyone having any dealings with the French government) because he had drifted with the current. No republican could accuse him of disloyalty to the Batavian Republic; vet when the Stadtholder eventually returned to the throne, Governor van Someren had made sure he had clean hands so show. Clean, that is, until now.

There was a faint popping in the distance. Lausser looked up significantly. Those bands of ruffians were close; the musket shots must be from loyal Dutch troops - he had all too few of them - or local people trying to stop the rogues looting their homes.

He picked up the gilt paperknife on his desk and balanced the blade on the index finger of his right hand. For several years he had been able to sit on the fence without finding it too hard to balance. Now, however, he was dangerously poised, as though paying for all those past years. He was the Dutch republican Governor yet at this moment he was likely to lose his governorship (and perhaps his life) to a republican rabble scrabbling their way across the arid island, walking and Daggering, riding stubborn donkeys, drinking raw rum or gin, raping or robbing as the fancy took them. They sang (when they were not too drunk) all the old French revolutionary songs of nearly a decade ago; they behaved as though Curacao was some newly captured British spice or sugar island, not part of the Batavian Republic. They were stirring up the Negroes, telling them to murder their masters in their beds, bum the crops, scatter the salt, break down the walls of the salt pans ...

He took a new clay pipe from the rack on his desk and began to fill it with tobacco. What the devil could he do? The worst of these rogues were French. Admittedly privateers - men, but was it just the desire for loot that had set them off? There had been young Dutch revolutionaries only too eager to listen to them.

"How many of these ruffians do our latest patrols report, Lausser?'

'More than five hundred, Your Excellency. About two - thirds of them are from the French privateers - the ten here in Amsterdam.'

Five hundred. It sounded highly likely because most of the privateers carried extra men to act as prize crews. But why? Revolutionary zeal? Hardly - most privateersmen could barely read or write; they were concerned with loot, not loyalties. The rest must be local revolutionaries, disaffected Dutchmen. The usual rabble.

'What the devil do you think it is all about, Lausser?'

'Robbery, sir. The privateers had little luck against the British - far too many privateers hunting too few prizes. The British frigates are patrolling to the north - many more than usual. I heard that the shopkeepers here stopped credit for most of the privateers some two weeks ago, just before all this started, so they were out of provisions and spirits . . .'

'Oh? I heard nothing of that. A very short - sighted policy, stopping credit. About as sensible in these circumstances as handing over your purse to a highwayman and asking for change. I'm sure that's what started off this - this insurrection.'

'But they had not paid their bills, sir.'

'Quite so,' van Someren said impatiently, irritated by Lausser's lack of imagination, "but they aren't going to make money lying here at anchor, unable to go to sea without provisions. The shopkeepers have always done well out of them up to now: the privateersmen spend freely enough when they do capture something. The prize cargoes are sold here for whatever the merchants will pay. The merchants should welcome them, not cut off credit'

'But they were not paying their bilk, sir,' Lausser repeated, as though shocked at the Governor's more practical attitude.

'You can only threaten privateers when you have a frigate in the harbour, Lausser.'

'Well, sir, one is due.'

'I mean Dutch, not British,' van Someren said, smiling at his little joke. 'In the meantime, we have to prepare our defences against our friends the privateers, thanks to the island's shopkeepers, who may find that their shops will be looted . . .'

The very location of Amsterdam, which made it easy to defend from the sea, made it almost indefensible from attacks overland. The channel to the Schottegat, like a wide but short river leading from the sea to the inland lake, divided Amsterdam in half: on the east side was Punda, the Point, with the Governor's residence overlooking the harbour entrance and waterfront, and defended by the Waterfort.

Otrabanda, 'the other side', was on the west and also had Riffort covering the entrance. But there were no defences covering either Punda or Otrabanda on the landward sides: the forts were no more than long gun platforms formed by wide stone sea walls, buttressed to seaward but open behind.

I can defend Amsterdam against my enemies, van Someren reflected, but I can't defend it against my allies. With two hundred Dutch soldiers and a couple of Negro companies (who had just refused to fight against the French ruffians) he was at the mercy of the rabble. And, into the midst of it all, came a British frigate. Perhaps he should be thankful the Batavian Republic had no other enemies - for the time being, anyway.

'Your Excellency,' Lausser said, a formal note in his voice Dedicating that he considered what he was about to say was important, 'ought the womenfolk to be sent to the forts for safety?'

The Governor held his day pipe by the stem and tapped (he desk with the bowl. 'Safe from whom? That's what I have to decide. If we are protecting them against an attack by the TWO British ships, then we should have them all here in the residence. But if we are protecting them against these drunken republican scoundrels, then perhaps they'd be better off in the forts. In fact, I'd be inclined to evacuate Otrabanda - after spiking the guns, of course - and bring everyone across to concentrate at Punda. And sink the ferries, of course.'

'Can we seize the privateers that are anchored in the channel, sir?'

'I can't risk it. Allowing ten soldiers to take possession of each privateer (and that means they have to row out in their own boats) needs a hundred men, which is all I have for both forts: the other hundred out trying to slow down the republicans will not be back in time. If the privateersmen remaining in the ships put up a fight. ..'

A knock at the door brought Lausser to his feet and he took a letter from a servant. He glanced at the superscription and proffered it to the Governor, who shook his head and gestured to Lausser to open it. 'It can't be good news.'

Lausser unfolded the paper - it was not sealed - and glanced over it. 'From Captain Hartog, sir. The republicans - that's what they are calling themselves, he says - are grouping on the main road half - way between Soto and Sint Willebrordus, about eleven miles from Amsterdam. He thinks that one man, or a committee, has just taken charge, so he expects them to advance much more quickly now. He is falling back on us but so far his casualties are light. He is deliberately conserving his men, he says.'

'Sensible fellow,' van Someren growled. 'Dead men lying among the salt pans won't help us. He understands that he's just fighting a delaying action, doesn't he?'

'Yes, sin he seems to be quite successful.'

'Quite so, quite so. Now, about the women.'

Lausser knew this was the Governor's way of asking his opinion, and he said: 'Waterfort, sir. The republicans are the greatest danger, especially once they start looting shops and getting at the spirits. Keep the women in the residence until the last moment, then send them down to the fort.'