Borneo And The Indian Archipelago With Drawings Of Costume And

Chapter 9

Chapter 94,082 wordsPublic domain

Let me describe the view from the front of Mr. Brooke's house:--The schooner lying half way across the river is the Julia, belonging to Mr. Brooke: she sails every month for Sincapore, laden with antimony ore; and thus, at the same time, she forms a mail-packet between Sincapore and Kuchin. The large open building, with a wharf, leading down to the river, is the store in which the antimony is sifted, smelted, and weighed. On the point near the bend of the river is the fort. It is a strong building of large timbers, and mounts eight 24-lb. iron guns, in very excellent condition. This is a very necessary defence, as the European rajah has many enemies. The building whose top just appears above the trees is the Chinese joss-house, or temple; for there are many Chinese settlers at Kuchin, who are very useful in their capacities of carpenters, blacksmiths, and agriculturists. Sweeping with the eye a range of dwelling houses built on stakes, you stop at one of tolerable proportions, which has a platform in front of it, on which are mounted about twenty small guns, and there is a flag-staff, on which is hoisted a red and yellow flag: that is the palace of Rajah Muda Hassan. Take a canoe, and cross over to it. You will find Muda sitting cross-legged in the centre of it: he shakes hands with you, and offers you cigars and tea. You will also meet his brother, Bud-ruddeen. You take your leave of the rajah, and amuse yourself with a walk round the town, during which you examine the natives and their wives, their customs, their houses, and their gardens.

With the exception of the more civilised tribes in the vicinity of the Sarawak, the Malays who inhabit the coast of Borneo are a cruel, treacherous, and disgusting race of men, with scarcely one good quality to recommend them. The numerous tribes of these people are separately governed, either by a rajah or petty sultan. Their laws are much more respected than would be supposed in a country where every man is armed, and is a robber by profession. The dress of the Malay is very uniform, consisting of a loose jacket, a sash, and trousers: in some parts a cloth is worn round the head; in others, a hat, made of leaves or rattan. Their arms are the kris and spear; occasionally they carry the sum-pi-tan, and poisoned arrows. Their houses are built upon stakes, probably for the sake of cleanliness; as the flooring consists of a kind of grating made of rattan, all dirt falls through. The houses are small, and contain but one family, and, like those of the Dyaks, are built of the lightest materials. The Malays pretend to Mahomedanism, and there is generally a large empty building in every town which is dignified with the name of a mosque: on the outside are hung drums or tom-toms, of huge dimensions, which are used as gentle reminders of the hours of prayer.

I have already stated that these Malay tribes live almost wholly by piracy, to carry on which each town possesses several large prahus, which they man, and send out to intercept any unfortunate junk or other vessel incapable of much resistance, which fate or the currents may have driven too near their coast. When the vessels are captured the cargoes are deposited in their warehouses, the vessels are broken up, and the crews are retained as slaves, to dig yams or pound paddy. Unless they are irritated by a desperate resistance, or they attack an inimical tribe, they do not shed blood, as has generally been supposed; restrained, however, by no other feeling than that of avarice, for the slaves are too valuable to be destroyed. In their physiognomy these Malays are inferior to the Dyaks: they have a strong resemblance to the monkey in face, with an air of low cunning and rascality most unprepossessing. In stature they are very low, and generally bandy-legged. Their hair and eyes are invariably black, but the face is, in most cases, devoid of hair; when it does grow, it is only at the extreme point of the chin. The Borneo Malay women are as plain as the men, although at Sincapore, Mauritius, and the Sooloos, they are well favoured; and they wind their serang, or robe, so tight round their bodies, that they walk in a very constrained and ungainly fashion. Many of these tribes are intermixed with the natives of the Celebes, such as the inhabitants of Sooloo.

The Malays deal with criminals in a very summary manner, the knowledge of which prevents many crimes among this semi-barbarous people. Robbers, for the first offence, lose their right hand; for the second they undergo the penalty of death. When we were at Kuchin a Chinaman was convicted of selling sam-schoo without permission: his goods were confiscated for a time, to be redeemed only by his good behaviour. I am not acquainted with their punishments for minor offences, except in the above instance; but I believe it is generally by fine. Every rajah holds despotic sway over the inhabitants of his province, and punishes as he thinks proper, without reference to any tribunal, even in cases where the sentence is death. The method of executing criminals with the kris is as follows:--He is made to sit down in a chair, with his arms extended horizontally, and held in that position by two men. The executioner, who stands behind him, inserts his kris above the collar-bone, in a perpendicular manner, which causes instant death, as the weapon enters the heart.

The following anecdote, related to me by some of the Roche people, may amuse the reader:--A celebrated Malay pirate, whose sanguinary deeds had filled the Archipelago with terror, became violently enamoured with one of the slaves of a rajah living on the river Sarawak. After vainly endeavouring to obtain her from her master by offers of money and entreaties, he lay in wait for her, and ran away with her into the jungle.

He had hardly passed his honeymoon before the rajah discovered his retreat, and he sent to the Malay to inform him, that, if he would make his appearance at the audience upon a certain day, he should have justice done him.

The Malay chief, who was a man of undaunted courage, and who felt confident that the reputation he had acquired by his piratical exploits was alone sufficient to awe his enemies, consented to appear, hoping that arrangements might be made which would permit him to leave the jungle, and allow him to enjoy his new bride in quiet.

On the day appointed he appeared before the council, armed, and accompanied by his brother, both resting their hands upon the handles of their krisses, a movement which among the Malays proclaims no feelings of amity. In this attitude of preparation they walked into the audience room, which was crowded with a host of enemies. The council decided, that if on a certain day he would produce a specified sum of money the girl should be his, and he should return unmolested. The sum named was exorbitant, but the Malay chief agreed to the payment, and was permitted to depart.

When the day of payment arrived, the council sat as before, and the Malay chief again made his appearance; but this time he came alone, his brother being absent on a piratical expedition. He had, in consequence of his violent affection for the girl, made every attempt to raise the stipulated sum, but could not succeed. He brought all that he could collect, but it fell far short of the sum which had been agreed upon, and he requested time to procure the remainder. The council consulted a while, and then stipulated, that the chief, not having brought the sum agreed upon, should leave his kris as a pledge till the rest should be forthcoming. The kris that the chief wore was itself of great value, very handsomely ornamented with precious stones. It had belonged to his ancestors, and was, as they always are, highly prized, and they knew that it would, if possible, be reclaimed. The chief was most reluctant to part with it, but his love for his mistress overcame his scruples, and also his prudence, for it left him unarmed amidst his implacable enemies. He pulled out his kris, and laid it on the table upon the money, and was busy disengaging the sheath to add to it, when, by a signal from the rajah, he was seized from behind. He started up, but it was too late; his trusty weapon, which had so often stood by him in his need, was no longer within his reach, and he was in a moment transfixed with a dozen blades, falling a victim to his love of the girl and the treachery of his foes.

After passing two very pleasant days at Kuchin, we prepared to descend the river. I have omitted to say that Mr. Treecher, the surgeon, was fond of natural history, and possessed a very tolerable collection of birds, and other animals indigenous to the country. I was shown several skeletons of the orang outang, some of which were of great size. There is no want of these animals in the jungle, but a living specimen is not easy to procure; I saw but one, an adult female, belonging to Mr. Brooke. It was very gentle in its manners, and, when standing upright, might have measured three feet six inches.

On board of the Phlegethon there were two specimens of the wa-wa, or long-armed ape, which had been presented to Mr. Brooke by one of the neighbouring rajahs, and they are by the natives considered very valuable. Their affection when domesticated is remarkable; their first act when they meet one they know is to leap upon your breast and embrace you with their arms, just like a child will its mother, and they will remain, if permitted, in this position for hours, and complain if removed. Their cry is very plaintive, and, heard at night in the jungle, sounds like that of a female in distress. I was given to understand that in the presents made by chiefs, a scarce variety of monkey is often the principal gift, and most esteemed.

The scarcest monkey in Borneo is the proboscis, or long-nosed. I saw but two specimens of this animal, one a female, with the nose very long, and pendulous at the extremity; the other a male, very young, and with the nose more or less prominent, and giving its face a more actual resemblance to that of a man's than I had ever before seen. This monkey has never, I believe, been brought to England alive. The British Museum has a stuffed specimen. It is not so mischievous in its habits as the tribe in general.

As Rajah Muda Hassan has been so frequently mentioned, it may be as well to give a succinct outline of his history. At the death of the late sultan, Muda Hassan was the heir-apparent to the throne, but he resigned in favour of his nephew, retaining the office of prime minister, which office he had held during the former reign, not only to the satisfaction of the sultan, but also of the people, with whom he was deservedly a great favourite. His influence, being even greater than that of the sultan, occasioned a jealous feeling, and a contention of party, which induced Muda Hassan to retire to Sarawak with his wives and personal attendants. He was succeeded in his office of prime minister by an Arab, Pangeran Usop, a man of unbounded ambition, who by his harsh and tyrannical conduct soon became hated by the Brunese, who longed for the return of Muda Hassan, under whose sway they had been quiet and happy. Pangeran Usop, aware of the popular feeling, now considered Muda Hassan as his enemy, and took every opportunity of vilifying and creating suspicion of Muda Hassan on the mind of the sultan, who was little better than an idiot. He asserted that Muda Hassan and his brother Bud-ruddeen were leagued with the English, and were their only supporters in their pretensions to the isle of Labuan, and that they would assist the English in taking possession of Borneo.

These reports, although at first treated with disdain, continually repeated had their effect, not only upon the sultan, but upon the people; and Muda Hassan, who was informed of what had been going on, and had not deigned to notice it, now considered that it was advisable to repair to Borneo, and refute the charges brought against him.

When Mr. Brooke purchased the rajahship and mines of Sarawak, he agreed to compensate Muda with a life annuity of two or three hundred per annum, and give him a passage to his native city, Bruni, whenever he should feel disposed to leave Kuchin. Some time had now elapsed since the signing of the contract, during which Muda had remained at his palace at Kuchin, enjoying his income, and living on the very best terms with the Europeans. He now, however, expressed a wish to return to Bruni, and as it was Mr. Brooke's intention to proceed to that port in the Samarang, it was proposed that the Phlegethon steamer should embark Muda and his suite, and that on our arrival at Bruni we should see this rajah and his brother Bud-ruddeen installed in their positions which by their birth they were entitled to. Another object was in view, and expected to be gained by this step. Up to the present, no efforts had been made by the Bornean government to discountenance piracy; on the contrary, the plunder of the pirates was brought in and openly disposed of at Bruni, which is the royal residence. Muda and his brother Bud-ruddeen were stanch friends to the English, and it was anticipated that by their being appointed to offices of power, and forcing the sultan to a treaty to put down piracy, and pay respect to the English flag, a very important advance would be made towards the extermination of these marauders, and commerce, once rendered secure, and property respected, Borneo would soon be brought to a state of comparative civilisation.

As soon as the two rajahs, with all their wives and suite, &c., could be got on board of the Phlegethon, Mr. Brooke, and Mr. Williamson the interpreter, came on board the Samarang, and we sailed. On our arrival at the island of Labuan, we anchored the ship, and despatched the steamer, with her cargo, up to Bruni. The captain of the Samarang and one or two officers proceeded up to Bruni in the barge on the following day; and I was the midshipman in charge of the boat. We did not arrive at the city till 8 o'clock in the evening; and it was too dark to distinguish the houses. With some difficulty, we discovered the steamer, which was anchored on the main street. We pulled alongside, and landing the captain and Kuchinians, Adams, the surgeon of the party, and I, found ourselves in undisturbed possession of the barge.

Bruni is called by Crawfurd the Venice of the East; and he is so far correct, that it is built in the same peculiar way, and is a most extraordinary town. It is built almost entirely on the water. It is of great size, containing from thirty to forty thousand inhabitants, most of whom are Malays, but who, from having so long intermixed with the tribes on the coast, now style themselves Brunese, after the town. This town, which is situated where the river forms a wide and shallow estuary, is built with little regard to regularity. There are, however, two large main streets, intersecting each other in the form of an irregular cross. These divide the town into four parts, one of which is partly built upon terra firma, while the other three portions are composed of massive wooden houses, built on piles, and just sufficiently separated here and there to admit of the passage of a canoe. On the portion which is on dry land is built the sultan's palace, a church or mosque, and most of the more prominent buildings. It was in the main street (if such a term may be used), and as near as possible in the centre of the town, that the steamer was anchored.

When we awoke and roused up it was broad daylight, and the scene was most novel: surrounding the steamer and the barge, and extending many yards from them, lay hundreds of canoes, filled with natives of every tribe to be found on the coast, and dressed in every variety of costume. From the wild Dusum to the civilised Arab and Malay rajah, natives in every posture, and decked in every colour, impelled by curiosity, were crowded around us. Here was a chief, dressed in an embroidered jacket, sitting cross-legged, and shading himself with a yellow silk umbrella. There were some wild-looking Dyaks, with scarcely as much covering as decency demanded, standing up on their narrow canoes, one hand resting on the handle of their knives, the other on their hips, eying us from under their long matted hair with glances that told of no good feeling towards us. In another quarter were women, in a covered boat, whose jealous lattices only permitted us a glimpse of sparkling eyes, and of the yellow array which proclaimed them as some of the royal favourites. As far as you could see on all sides there was a confused mass, composed of embroidered chiefs, black-eyed women, grey-bearded Arabs, spears, shields, paddles and umbrellas. Taking out my sketch-book, I amused myself with drawing the various costumes--no very easy task, as the canoes were continually on the move; and before I could well catch the head and shoulders of a native, when I raised my eyes from the paper he had often disappeared in the crowd, and I found another party and another costume in his place.

Rajah Muda Hassan had already landed, and 10 o'clock had been fixed upon as the hour for a full-dress visit to the sultan. As the time approached, Mr. Brooke, with our captain and the officers composing the party, came into the barge, and were pulled up to the sultan's audience chamber. This was a large three-sided building, facing the water, with a platform in front, on which were mounted five or six leilas, or native guns. The roof was slightly carved, and the gables ornamented with large wooden rams' horns. The red and yellow flag of Borneo waved above it.

We were received at the platform by a numerous party of chiefs, handsomely dressed in silks, satins, and gold embroidery. They ushered us into the audience chamber, the walls of which were lined with a sort of cloth, and ornamented with shields. The floor was matted. The chamber was filled with natives, all well dressed and armed. They sat cross-legged, preserving a respectful silence. A vacant aisle was preserved between them leading to the throne, which was at the upper end of the chamber. The throne was a frame of painted wood, gilt and carved, and bearing a very suspicious resemblance to a Chinese bedstead. On this, sitting cross-legged, was the sultan of Borneo, to whom we were all separately presented as English warriors, &c. &c. Chairs were then placed in a half circle in front of the sultan, and we seated ourselves. The sultan, a man of about sixty years of age, is said to be very imbecile, and under the control of his ministers, who do with him as they please. He was dressed in a loose jacket and trousers of purple satin, richly embroidered with gold, a close-fitting vest of gold cloth, and a light cloth turban on his head. In his sash he wore a gold-headed kris of exquisite workmanship. His head was bald, and his features wore a continual air of suspicion, mixed with simplicity. The first is not to be wondered at, as he lives in the happy expectation of being poisoned every day. He has two thumbs on the right hand, and makes the supernumerary one useful by employing it in charging his mouth with the beetle-nut and chunan, in which luxury he indulges to excess. Immediately below him were his two body attendants, who have charge of his beetle-nut box and his weapons. In front of the throne, and inside the half aisle formed by the Europeans, Seraib Yussef, the prime minister, Muda Hassan, and Bud-ruddeen, were seated on their hams. On each side and below the throne were hundreds of attendants or guards; those in the front row sitting cross-legged, with drawn krisses; those behind them standing with long spears, tipped with bunches of red horsehair, in their hands. The remainder of the chamber was occupied by chiefs, all of them armed.

The communications and demands we had to make were carried on through Mr. Williamson, the interpreter. The speakers were Mr. Brooke, our captain, the sultan's prime minister, Muda and Bud-ruddeen, the sultan occasionally nodding his head in approval of replies made by his prime minister. The whole of the conversation was carried on in so low a tone as not to be heard except by those sitting nearest to the throne. The subject of it was, however, no secret; and it was as follows:--

Near to the mouth of the river, is an island called Pulo Cheremon, on which the sultan has built some forts. On our entering the river, one of our boats had been fired at from one of these forts, although the English flag was hoisted at the time. The demands made in this conference were, that the proper respect should be paid to the English flag, that the forts upon Pulo Cheremon should be dismantled, and that the sultan should reinstate Muda and Bud-ruddeen in offices becoming their rank. Now, that the first demand was reasonable must be admitted; but what right we had to insist upon the forts being destroyed, and the sultan's uncles put into office, I really cannot pretend to say.

Seraib Yussef, who was inimical to the English, expressed his disapprobation of their demands in very strong terms: as for the sultan, he had very little to say. As it appeared that there was no chance of our demands being complied with without coercion, the conference was broken up by our principals pointing to the steamer, which lay within pistol-shot of the palace, and reminding the sultan and the ministers that a few broadsides would destroy the town. Having made this observation, we all rose to take our departure, stating that we would wait for an answer to our demands upon the following day. Our situation was rather critical, only eight Europeans among hundreds of armed natives taking their sultan in this manner by the beard, when, at a signal from him, we might have all been despatched in a moment. More than one chief had his hand upon his kris as we stalked through a passage left for us out of the audience chamber; but whatever may have been their wishes, they did not venture further without authority. On reaching the platform outside, a very strange sight presented itself. With the exception of a lane left for our passage to the boat, the whole space was covered with naked savages. These were the Maruts, a tribe of Dyaks who live in the mountains. The word marut signifies brave. These naked gentlemen, who are very partial to the sultan, had come down from the mountains to render assistance in case of hostility on our part. They were splendidly framed men, but very plain in person, with the long matted hair falling over their shoulders. They were armed with long knives and shields, which they brandished in a very warlike manner, occasionally giving a loud yell. They certainly appeared very anxious to begin work; and I fully expected we should have had to draw and defend ourselves. I was not sorry, therefore, when I found myself once more in the stern sheets of the barge, with our brass six-pounder loaded with grape, pointed towards them. The poor fellows little knew the effect of a shower of grape-shot, or they would not have been so anxious for a "turn-up."