THE CHURCH AND THE SCHOOL.
As soon as we removed to College Hill, the building of the church began.
On the 28th August, 1850, a few days after the return of the expedition
against the pirates, the summit of a rising ground about two hundred
yards from the house having been cleared and levelled, a large shed was
built over the ground, which the sailors of H.M.S. _Albatross_, and our
workmen, adorned with gay flags and green boughs.
A little procession left our house, the rajah walking first, dressed in
full uniform as Governor of Labuan, and Suboo, the Malay executioner,
holding a large yellow satin umbrella over his head, as is the custom on
all state occasions, for yellow is the royal colour in Borneo; then my
husband, in surplice and hood, the English residents, naval officers,
and, last, a crowd of Malays and Chinese followed, to witness the
ceremony of laying the first great block of wood in the foundation of
St. Thomas's Church. After prayers had been read, the rajah lowered the
great sleeper into its place, and we all returned home. From that day
the church began to rise out of the earth with the same seeming magic as
the house had done. It was entirely built of wood--all the beams,
rafters, and posts of the hard balean-wood, and the roof covered with
balean shingles, like the house. The planking was a cedar-coloured wood,
and all the arches and mouldings were finished like cabinet-work, so
that it was both handsome and durable. The ornamental pillars were first
made of polished nibong palms; but in a few years these had to be cut
away, as they were full of white ants, and hard wood substituted. The
building of this little church was most interesting to us. When my
husband was at Singapore for a short time in 1849, he had the pulpit,
reading-desk, a carved wooden eagle, and the chairs made there; also a
coloured glass east window was contrived, with the Sarawak flag for a
centre light. This pleased the Malays; indeed, they admired the house
and church immensely, and always assured us that they knew we could not
have built either, unless inspired by good antoos (spirits).
The baptismal font was a huge clam-shell, large enough to dip an infant
in, if desired; and this natural font was adopted in all the churches
afterwards built at Dyak stations--at Lundu, at Banting, Quop River.
The church bell was a difficult matter. Nothing larger than a ship bell
could be found in the straits. At last, a Javanese at Sarawak said he
could cast a bell large enough if he had the metal; so Frank bought a
hundredweight of broken gongs--there is a great deal of silver in gong
metal--and with these the bell was cast. Then an inscription had to be
put round the rim--"Gloria in excelsis Deo," in large letters; and the
date, Sir James Brooke's name on one side, and F. T. McDougall on the
other. It was a great success, and was safe in the little belfry before
the church was consecrated, in February, 1851. I do not know whether
this bell is now cracked, but it has worked very hard from that day--two
services every week-day, and four on Sunday, to say nothing of extra
occasions. Before long, we found a gilder who could adorn the reredos.
There were seven compartments at the east end: in the centre one was a
gilt cross, and in the others, the Lord's Prayer and the Creed, in
English, Malay, and Chinese. The gilder was a Chinese catechumen, and
was very anxious to do it well; but he knew nothing of English letters,
so each letter had to be cut in paper, and he traced it on the wooden
panel. It was necessary to watch him narrowly, or he put the letters
upside down! Such are the difficulties of making churches in the jungle.
All this took some time to complete. I had a very severe illness in
November, 1850; and when, about Christmas, I was able to sit in the
verandah, the progress of the church was my great amusement, for it was
quite near enough to watch from the house.
In August, 1850, a great influx of Chinese came to Sarawak. There was a
war at Sambas, the principal Dutch settlement in Borneo, between the
Chinese, who were friendly to the Dutch, and who were living at
Pernankat, and the Montrado Chinese, who, with the Dyaks of the country,
rebelled against the Dutch. The Montrados beat the Pernankat Chinese,
and they fled from the place, carrying with them their wives and
children, and as much property as they could cram into their boats. The
boats were overladen, and many of them perished at sea, but some reached
Tangong Datu. On the 26th of August, four hundred of these poor
creatures arrived at Sarawak, saying there were three thousand more
starving on the sands at Datu, who would follow as fast as they could;
and, in course of time, most of them did find their way up the river,
although those in charge of the Government (the rajah was at Labuan)
tried to persuade them to make a town for themselves at Santubong (one
of the mouths of the river). A few of them did settle at Santubong, but
every day brought boats full of Chinamen into the place. The rajah fed
these poor people for months with rice, and gave them tools that they
might clear the ground and make gardens in the jungle. At first, before
they could build themselves houses, the whole place seemed upset by
them. Many lived in their boats on the river; every shed and workshop in
the town was full. One night Frank walked into the church, to see no one
was stealing planks from the unfinished building. All was quiet, but by
a stray moonbeam he perceived that one end of the church, already
boarded, was full of mosquito curtains, and they as full of sleeping
Chinamen. Such a thing could not be allowed--nails knocked into the
polished walls to tie up the curtains, tobacco perfuming the place, to
say nothing of sparks to light the pipes, and a considerable allowance
of bugs which Chinese people always carry about with them. Frank jumped
straight into the middle of the muslin curtains, with a shout; and
amidst a hubbub of tongues, "yaw-yaw" and laughter, bundled them all out
into the workmen's shed close by, where they might sleep in peace. It
occurred to my husband that some of these Chinese would be glad to have
their children brought up with the seven little orphans we had already,
so he went to Aboo, the Chinese magistrate, and offered to take ten
children into our house to be brought up as Christians, baptized, and
educated for ten years. The Chinese value education, and were very glad
to give them to us. I shall never forget sitting in the porch one
morning to receive my new family. Neither parents nor children could
speak Malay. They walked up the stairs, bringing a little boy or girl,
nodded and smiled and put the child's hand into mine, as much as to say,
"There, take it." One of our Chinese servants then explained to them
what we could do for the child, and that it must remain with us until
grown up. That day we took Salion, Sunfoon, Chinzu, Queyfat, Assin,
Umque, Achin, boys; Achong, Moukmoy, Poingzu, girls. The English nurse
we had brought with us to Sarawak had married Stahl, the carpenter, of
whom I spoke before, and Mrs. Stahl became the matron of the school when
we moved to College Hill, and had these ten Chinese children as well as
the orphans to care for. We were very busy sewing for them, with a
Chinese tailor to help. Blue jackets and trousers for week-days, and
black trousers and white jackets for Sundays, had to be made at once.
The girls wore trousers as well as the boys, only wider, and their
jackets reached to the knee.
At the end of a week they were all clean and neat. Their heads were
shaved every Saturday, and their long tails freshly plaited up with
skeins of black or red strong silk, made on purpose. At first a barber
came to do this, but soon the elder boys learnt to do it, and it was a
regular Saturday business. These ten children soon learnt to speak
Malay. Then we took five more, and after that one or two as
circumstances threw them in our way. The school at last numbered
forty-five, but there was not room in the mission-house for so many; we
did not get beyond thirty the first year of the school.
I scarcely think thirty English children could have been so easily
reduced to order as these little Chinese. School must have been paradise
to them after the hardships they had undergone, and that perhaps made it
easier to please them; besides, the Chinese readily submit to rule and
method. The day was laid out for them. They rose at half-past five when
the day dawned; after a bath in a pond in the grounds, they had a slice
of rice-pudding with treacle on it, and then went to church for morning
prayers. By seven o'clock they were all at lessons in the big room--such
a buzzing and curious singsong of Chinese words--until nine, when the
breakfast took place; rice, of course, and a sort of curry of
vegetables, also a great dish of fish, either salt or fresh; a little
tea for the elder children, no milk or sugar, and water for the rest.
They soon learnt to sing their grace before and after meals.
The same kind of meal was repeated at five o'clock, but on Sunday they
had pork curried instead of fish, and on festivals chickens. I taught
these children to sing from the first. The Chinese are not musical
generally, and some of them found the sounds of _do_, _re_, _mi_, very
difficult to master, but we had very nice singing in church in time; and
when a schoolmaster came who knew plenty of songs, glees, and rounds,
the children learnt them quickly, and were often sent for to sing to the
rajah and other guests when they came to dinner.
It used to startle strangers to hear "The Hardy Norseman," "The Cuckoo,"
and such-like songs from the lips of little Chinese boys. Every Saturday
evening they came to the house to practise the hymns and chants for
Sunday; I had an harmonium in the dining-room. On these occasions they
all had a cup of tea and slice of cake, and used to look at the picture
newspapers which had come from England the last mail. They were very
intelligent boys. It was necessary they should learn Malay and English
as well as Chinese, and of course arithmetic, geography, and the usual
rudiments of learning. I have often watched the Chinese writing-lesson:
it seemed the most difficult branch of their education--one complicated
character, something like a five-barred gate, representing a variety of
sounds as well as meanings; but our little fellows learnt it all. They
had a Chinese master as well as an English, and they soon spoke English
as well as we could desire. My husband took the greatest interest in
this school. When the children first came he taught them games and made
them playthings, and they were always about him. Whenever we went
anywhere by boat a crew of boys was added to the rowers. They soon
learnt to use their paddles well, and at the public boat-races, on New
Year's Day, pulled their own boat in the race and sometimes won it. When
my husband became Bishop of Labuan and Sarawak, he always took some of
the schoolboys with him in his visits to the different stations. They
helped the church services by their singing, and had their especial
chums among the Dyak Christian boys in the different tribes. So many
boys passed through the school during the twenty years we took an
interest in it, that I cannot even remember all of them. Some are now
catechists among the Dyak tribes; many entered the service of the
Government or the Merchant Company as clerks; some went to Singapore and
found employment there. I know of only one who has as yet been
ordained, but perhaps that time has scarcely yet arrived in Sarawak. It
is difficult for Malays or Dyaks to look up to a Chinaman sufficiently
to make him their minister: they are less clever than the Chinese, but
look down upon them nevertheless--the Malays, because the Chinese are
the workers, and they the gentlemen; the Dyaks, I suppose, because they
gave them such a thrashing in 1857. One good consequence of the Chinese
school was, that it attracted the attention of the parents towards
Christianity, and they presented themselves as catechumens. There were
many difficulties with the languages, for the Chinese at Sarawak were
not all of the same tribe, and could not understand one another.
However, after a while a Chinese professor arrived at Sarawak, bringing
his wife and family with him. In those days the women were forbidden to
emigrate with their husbands, but Sing Sing put his wife into a large
chest with air-holes at the top, and brought her safely from China. The
Bishop employed this man, who was well educated, to make translations,
and to interpret what he said to the Chinese, so there were soon Bible
classes at our house every Wednesday evening. Sing Sing became an
inquirer himself while translating the gospel to others. He was soon
able to hold cottage lectures in the town, and after some years the
Bishop had the happiness to ordain him as minister to his people. There
was a large congregation of Chinese at the Sunday services before we
left, and it was a good proof of the sincerity of these converts, that
while all their heathen countrymen worked at their trades on Sunday as
well as other days, our Christians spent their Sunday in worship and
rest, which no doubt was an advantage to their health as well as their
growth in grace.
At Christmas they always shared in our feasting. We killed an ox, and
all the Christians had beef for their dinner, as well as all the queer
things they delight in.
In January, 1851, the Church of St. Thomas at Kuching was consecrated by
Bishop Wilson, of Calcutta. On the afternoon of the 18th, I was
returning from church, and mounting the flight of steps which led to the
porch of the house, I saw a large steamer turn the corner of the
Pedungen Reach and anchor above the fort. It was the _Semiramis_
bringing the Bishop, Archdeacon Pratt and Mrs. Pratt, the Rev. H. Moule
from Singapore, Dr. Beale, the Bishop's physician, and Mr. Fox from
Bishop's College. This party, escorted by Frank, who rushed home to
dress himself in black (his usual attire being grey flannels and a white
muslin cassock), very soon marched into the house, exclaiming with
pleasure at the wreaths of white jessamine growing over the stairs, and
the fresh air of the hill. We had so lately settled in the house that it
was not half furnished, but we gave up our rooms to our guests and
stowed ourselves in an empty corner. I remember the satisfaction with
which Mrs. Stahl produced the remains of the Christmas plum-pudding,
and the comfort it was to have a joint of venison in the house. Dinner
was soon on the table, and immediately afterwards the Bishop read
prayers and retired to his room. We all went into the library, where we
had tea and talk. It was very refreshing to have an English lady to
speak to, and Mrs. Pratt was so tall and fair that everybody admired
her, especially the Malays, who used to say that it was sufficient
pleasure to look at her throat only.
The natives used to flock into the house every evening to see the Tuan
Padre besar (the great priest), and all the new-comers. At half-past
five a.m. the Bishop's bell used to ring for his servants to dress him,
and bring his tea. The whole house was astir then. The Indian servants
of the party slept in the verandahs, and seemed to me to talk all night.
The next day was Sunday, but the church was not cleared out for
consecration, and most of the fittings had come from Singapore in the
_Semiramis_, and could not be got out on Saturday night. So morning and
evening prayers were as usual in the dining-room, and what with the
officers of the _Semiramis_, the English of the place, the school and
our home party, the room was very full. The children sang with all their
might, and were much interested with the visitors. The Bishop and
Archdeacon Pratt preached morning and afternoon. On Wednesday the church
was ready. Mrs. Stahl and I were up before dawn, covering hassocks with
Turkey red cotton. The church was tiled, but platforms of wood, covered
with mats, which were a present from Mr. and Mrs. Stahl, were placed on
the tiles, and the chairs just arrived by _Semiramis_ stood on them. We
afterwards had to clear the platforms away--they became full of white
ants; but they looked very well at first.
When all was ready, Captain Brooke and all the principal English
inhabitants met the Bishop at the church door, and presented a petition
that he would consecrate the building. He then entered, and walked up
and down the church repeating psalms, etc. Then came morning service;
afterwards, the Bishop preached, and as he was very energetic and struck
the desk with his hand, our gentle Datu Bandar thought he was angry, and
slipped quickly out of church. There was a confirmation of a Chinese
teacher and my little maid Susan after the celebration of Holy
Communion, and then, after three hours and a half service, we returned
home. The next morning, early, the Bishop consecrated the burial-ground.
He was carried round it in a chair, for he was unable to walk much; and
though he was a hale old man of seventy-two, his many years' residence
at Calcutta had, I imagine, spoilt his walking powers.
He was very kind and friendly to us all, and admired the church very
much. His visit was a boon to the mission. It impressed the native mind
with the importance Christians attach to their churches and to public
worship. When our church bell called us to prayers twice every day, the
Mahometans revived the daily muezzin at the mosque; and the sight of the
public practice of religion amongst us quickened the Malays in the
performance of their own religious rites, and from that time there were
many more pilgrims to Mecca from Sarawak.