From the railway station at Batavia the comfortless "dos-a-dos,"
colloquially known as the _sado_, a vehicle resembling an elementary
Irish car, and drawn by a rat-like Timor pony transports us to the
fashionable suburb of Weltevreden, away from the steamy port and
fever-haunted commercial capital. The march of modern improvement
scarcely affects old-world Java, where jolting _sado_ and ponderous
_milord_ remain unchanged since the early days of colonisation, for
time is a negligeable quantity in this lotus-eating land, too apathetic
even to adopt those alleviations of tropical heat common to British
India. The Java of the ancient world was considered "The Jewel of the
East," and possesses many claims to her immemorial title, but the
stolid Dutchman of to-day contents himself with the domestic
arrangements which sufficed for his sturdy forefathers, scorning the
mitigations of swinging punkah or electric fan. The word Batavia
signifies "fair meadows," and these swampy fields of rank vegetation,
exhaling a deadly miasma, were considered such an adequate defence
against hostile attack, that forts were deemed unnecessary in a
locality where 87,000 soldiers and sailors died in the Government
Hospital during the space of twenty years. Batavia proper is a
commonplace city of featureless streets, brick-walled canals, and
ramshackle public buildings, but the residential town of Weltevreden,
suggesting a glorified Holland, combines the quaint charm of the mother
country with the Oriental grace and splendour of the tropics. The broad
canals bordered by colossal cabbage-palms, the white bridges gay with
the many coloured garb of the Malay population, the red-tiled roofs
embowered in a wealth of verdure, and the pillared verandahs veiled
with gorgeous creepers, tumbling in sheets of purple and scarlet from
cornice to floor, compose a characteristic picture, wherein Dutch
individuality triumphs over incongruous environment. Waving palms clash
their fronds in the sea-breeze; avenues of feathery tamarind and
bending waringen trees surround Weltevreden with depths of green
shadow; the scarlet hybiscus flames amid tangled foliage, where the
orange chalices of the flowering Amherstia glisten from sombre
branches, and hang like fairy goblets from the interwoven roofs of
tropical tunnels, pierced by broad red roads. On this Sunday afternoon
of the waning year which introduces us to Weltevreden, family groups
are gathered round tea tables canopied with flowers and palms, in the
white porticos of the Dutch villas, and the startling déshabille
adopted by Holland in the Netherlands India almost defies description.
The ladies, with stockingless feet thrust into heelless slippers, and
attired in the Malay _sarong_ (two yards of painted cotton cloth),
supplemented by a white dressing-jacket, display themselves in
verandah, carriage, or street, in a garb only fit for the bath-room;
while the men, lounging about in pyjamas, go barefoot with the utmost
_sangfroid_. The _sarong_, as worn by the slender and graceful Malay,
appears a modest and appropriate garb, but the grotesque effect of
native attire on the broad-built Dutchwoman affords conclusive proof
that neither personal vanity nor a sense of humour pertain to her
stolid personality. Dutch Puritanism certainly undergoes startling
transformations under the tropical skies, and the Netherlands India
produces a modification of European ideas concerning what have been
called "the minor moralities of life," unequalled in colonial
experience. An identical exhibition fills the open corridors of the
Hotel Nederlanden, built round a central court, and the general resort
of the guests during the hot hours of the January days. Evening dress
is reserved for State occasions, and though _sarong_ and _kabaja_ be
discarded at the nine o'clock dinner, the blouse and skirt of morning
wear in England suffices even at this late hour for the fair Hollander,
who also concedes so far to the amenities of civilisation as sometimes
to put on her stockings. So much of life in Java is spent in eating,
sleeping, and bathing, that but a small residuum can be spared for
those outside interests which easily drop away from the European when
exiled to a colony beyond the beaten track of travel, and destitute of
that external friction which counteracts the enervating influence of
the tropics. Comfort is at a discount according to English ideas, but
the arrangements of the Hotel Nederlanden, under a kindly and capable
proprietor, render it an exception to the prevailing rule. Each guest
is apportioned a little suite, consisting of bedroom, sitting-room, and
a section of the verandah, fitted up with cane lounge, table, and
rocking-chair. The bathrooms, with porcelain tank and tiles, leave
nothing to be desired, and the "dipper-bath," infinitely cooler than
the familiar tub, becomes an unfailing delight. Ominous prophecies have
emphasised the rashness of coming to Java in the rainy season, but it
has expended its force before January arrives, and though daily showers
cool the air, and the sky is often overcast, no inconvenience is
experienced. Lizards and mosquitoes are few, and in the marble-floored
dining hall of cathedral proportions the absence of a punkah is
generally unfelt, though the fact of a tropical climate is realised at
the slightest exertion. The day begins at 6 a.m. with a cup of the Java
coffee, which, at first unpalatable, reveals by degrees the hidden
excellence of the beverage, brought cold in a stoppered cruet, the
potent essence requiring a liberal admixture of boiling water. At 9
a.m. a solid but monotonous breakfast of sausage, bacon, eggs, and
cheese is customary, with the accompaniment of iced water, though tea
and coffee are provided for the foreign traveller, unused to the cold
comfort which commends itself to Dutch taste. The mid-day _riz-tavel_
from beginning to end of a stay in Java, remains the terror of the
English visitor. Each plate is heaped with a mound of rice, on which
scraps of innumerable ingredients are placed--meat, fish, fowl, duck,
prawns, curry, fried bananas, and nameless vegetables, together with
chilis and chutneys, sembals, spices, and grated cocoanut, in
bewildering profusion. The Dutch digestion triumphantly survives this
severe test at the outset of the meal, and courageously proceeds to the
complementary courses of beefsteak, fritters and cheese. Fortunately
for those of less vigorous appetite, mine host of the Nederlanden, far
in advance of his Javanese fraternity, kindly provides a simple
"tiffin" as an alternative to this Gargantuan repast. Afternoon tea is
served in the verandah, and at eight o'clock the Dutch contingent,
having slept off the effects of the rice table, prepares with renewed
energies to attack a heavy dinner. New Year's Eve is celebrated by a
very bombardment of fireworks from the Chinese _campong_, and crowds
hasten to the fine Roman Catholic church for Benediction, Te Deum, and
an eloquent, though to me incomprehensible, Dutch sermon. Crisp muslins
and uncovered heads for the women, and white linen garb for the men,
are the rule in church, for the slatternly undress of _sarong_ and
pyjamas is happily inadmissible within the walls of the sanctuary,
where the fair fresh faces and neat array compose a pleasing picture
which imagination would fail to evolve from the burlesque ugliness of
the slovenly déshabille wherewith the Dutch colonist disguises every
claim to beauty or grace. On alluding to the shock experienced by this
grotesque travesty of native garb, a Dutch officer asserts that there
are in reality but few Dutch ladies in Java of pure racial stock, for
one unhappy result of remoteness from European influence is shown by
the gradual merging of the Dutch colonists into the Malay race by
intermarriage. Exile to Java was made financially easy and attractive
by the Dutch Government, but it was for the most part a permanent
separation from the mother country, and a long term of years
necessarily elapsed before the colonial planter could even return for a
short visit to his native land. The overwhelming force of public
opinion against mixed marriages, and the consequent degeneration of
type, from a union which lowers one of the contracting parties without
raising the other, beats but faintly against these remote shores, cut
off from associations which mould and modify the crudities of
individual thought in regions swept by the full tide of contemporary
life. The idea of welding European and Asiatic elements into one race,
as a defence against external aggression, possesses a superficial
plausibility, but ages of historical experiment only confirm the
unalterable truth of the poetic dictum that
East is East, and West is West,
And never the two shall meet.
Until they stand on either hand,
At God's great Judgment Seat!
The sudden rise of an Oriental race to the position of a great
world-power, and the apprehensions of coming struggles for supremacy in
Eastern waters, present many future complications concerning Java, even
if not weakened by the assimilation of her European colonists to an
inferior race.
Neither landlord nor secretary of the Hotel Nederlanden spare time or
trouble in arranging the programme of sight-seeing, and but for their
kindly help, only a partial success would be possible, owing to the
difficulties presented by the two unknown tongues of Dutch and Malay.
Ignorance of the former involves separation from the world as revealed
by newspapers, and though a smattering of "coolie Malay" is picked up
with the aid of a handbook, and the "hundred words" mastered,
sanguinely asserted to suffice for colloquial needs, there are many
occasions when even the practice of this elementary language requires a
more extensive vocabulary. At a New Year's fête given by the proprietor
of the hotel to his numerous Malay employés, we make our first
acquaintance with native music. Dancing girls, in mask and tinsel,
gyrate to the weird strains of the _Gamelon_, an orchestra of tiny
gongs, bamboo tubes, and metal pipes. Actors perform old-world dramas
in dumb show, and conjurors in gaudy attire attract people of all ages
to those time-honoured feats of legerdemain which once represented the
sorcery of the mystic East. The simple Malay has not yet adopted the
critical and unbelieving attitude which rubs the gilt off the
gingerbread or the bloom off the plum, and his fervid faith in mythical
heroes and necromantic exploits gives him the key to that kingdom of
fancy often closed to a sadder if wiser world. The electric tram
provides an excellent method of gaining a general idea of Batavia and
Weltevreden; the winding route skirting canals and palm groves,
_campongs_ of basket-work huts, and gay _passers_, the native markets,
with their wealth of many-coloured fruit. Stacks of golden bananas,
olive-tinted dukus, rambutans like green chestnut-shells with scarlet
prickles, amber star-fruit, brown salak, the "forbidden apple,"
bread-fruit, and durian offer an embarassing choice. Pineapples touch
perfection on Java soil; cherimoya and mango, papaya and the various
custard-fruits, the lovely but tasteless rose-apple, and the dark green
equatorial orange of delicious flavour, afford a host of unfamiliar
experiences. The winter months are the season of the peerless
mangosteen, in beauty as well as in savour the queen of tropical
fruits. The rose-lined purple globes, with the central ball of ivory
whiteness in each fairy cup, suggest fugitive essences of strawberry
and nectarine combined with orange to produce this equatorial marvel,
also considered perfectly wholesome. The mangosteen, ripening just
north or south of the Equator, according to the alternations of the wet
and dry seasons, cannot be preserved long enough to reach the temperate
zone, and though every year shows fresh varieties of tropical fruit
successfully transported to European markets, the mangosteen remains
unknown outside the narrow radius of the equatorial region to which the
tree is indigenous. The flower markets blaze with many-coloured roses,
tons of gardenias and a wealth of white heavy-scented flowers, such as
tuberoses and Arabian jasmine. All the spices of the East, in fact,
seem breathing from these mounds of blossom, as well as from gums and
essences distilled from them in archaic fashion. Transparent sachets,
filled with the scented petals of _ylang-ylang_, fill the air with
intoxicating sweetness, and outside the busy _passer_, a
frangipanni-tree, the native _sumboya_ or "flower of the dead," just
opening a white crowd of golden-hearted blossoms to the sun, adds
another wave of perfume to the floral incense, steaming from earth to
sky with prodigal exuberance.
Batavia possesses few objects of interest. The dismal green-shuttered
Stadkirche, a relic of Dutch Calvinism; the earliest warehouse of the
Netherlands Company, a commonplace lighthouse, and the gate of Peter
Elberfeld's dwelling (now his tomb), with his spear-pierced skull above
the lintel, as a reminder of the sentence pronounced on traitors to the
Dutch Government, comprise the scanty catalogue. Antiquities and
archæological remains fill a white museum of classical architecture on
the Koenig's Plein, a huge parade ground, flanked by the Palace of the
Governor-General. Gold and silver ornaments, gifts from tributary
princes, shield and helmet, dagger, and _kris_, of varied stages in
Malay civilisation, abound in these spacious halls, where every
Javanese industry may be studied. Buddhist and Hindu temples have
yielded up a treasury of images, censers, and accessories of worship,
the excavations of ruined cities in Central Java, long overgrown with
impenetrable jungle, opening a mine of archæological wealth in musical
instruments, seals, coins, headgear, chairs and umbrellas of State.
Golden pipes and betel-boxes show the perfection of the goldsmith's
art, and metal statues vie with those of sculptured wood or stone. Here
Captain Cook left his treasure trove from the Southern seas, and the
Council Chamber of the Museum contains portraits and souvenirs of the
great navigators who sailed into the uncharted ocean of geographical
discovery, and in various stages of their adventurous careers anchored
at Java, to display the wondrous trophies of unknown lands in the
island then regarded as the farthest outpost of contemporary
civilisation.
The _toelatingskaart_, or Javanese passport, formerly indispensable for
insular travel beyond the radius of forty miles from Batavia, though
not yet obsolete, proves practically needless, and is never once
demanded during a six weeks' stay. The small addition contributed to
the rich revenue by this useless official "permit," appears the sole
reason for retaining it, now that vexatious restrictions are withdrawn.
In the intervals of arranging an up-country tour from monotonous
Weltevreden, destitute of any attraction beyond the white colonnades
and verdant groves flanking sleepy canals and quaint bridges, the local
industry of _sarong_ stippling affords a curious interest. Every city
in Java possesses a special type of this historic dress, represented on
the walls of temples dating before the Christian era, and worn by the
Malay races from time immemorial. This strip of cotton cloth, which
forms the attire both of men and women, is twisted firmly round the
body, and requires no girdle to secure it. Palm-fronds, birds, and
animals, geometric patterns, religious emblems, fruits and flowers, are
represented in bewildering confusion. The girls, with flower-decked
hair and scanty garb, occupy a long, low shed, filled with rude frames
for stretching the cloth, painted in soft-tinted dyes--brown, blue, and
amber for the most part--with tapering funnels. These waxed cloths
allow infinite scope for native imagination, only a small panel of
formal design being obligatory, the remaining surface fancifully
coloured at will in harmonious hues. No two _sarongs_ are alike, and
the painted _battek_, notwithstanding the simplicity of the cotton
background, represents an amount of labour and finish which makes the
archaic garment a costly, though almost indestructible production. The
graceful _slandang_, a crossed scarf of the same material, only serves
as a shoulder-strap, wherein the brown Malay baby sits contentedly, for
the ugly white jacket of the Dutchwoman is now compulsory on the
native. Every variety of _battek_, basket-work, mats, and quaint silver
or brass ware, is brought by native peddlers to the broad verandahs of
the hotel, the patient and gentle people content to spend long hours on
the marble steps, dozing between their scanty bargains, or crimsoning
their months with the stimulating morsel of betel-nut, said to allay
the hunger, thirst, and exhaustion of the steaming tropics. The
conquered race, cowed by ages of tyranny under native princes,
possesses those mild and effeminate characteristics fostered by a
languid and enervating climate. That the salient angles of the sturdy
Dutch character, which accomplished so many feats of endurance in the
earlier days of the colony, should undergo rapid disintegration by
intermarriage with the native stock, must arouse regret in all who
realise the claims to respect possessed by the fighting forefathers of
Holland's tropical dependencies.
Educational matters were for centuries in abeyance, and until 1864 the
Malays were forbidden to learn the language of their European rulers.
Many dialects are found in Java's wide territory, but Low Malay has
been declared the official tongue, and with the advance of public
opinion, wider views prevail concerning the rights of the subject race.
A good Roman Catholic priest, one of the most enlightened and liberal
Dutchmen encountered in Java, asserts that in the schools of the
Colonial Government, the Malay boy possesses a mathematical facility
superior to that of the Dutch scholar, in spite of the advantage
accruing from hereditary education.
At the sunset hour, Batavian life awakens from the long slumbers of the
tropical afternoon, and as the golden light filters through the waving
palms, the long Schul-Weg, beside the central canal, fills with
saunterers, enjoying the delights of that brief spell, when peace and
coolness fall on the world before the sudden twilight drops veil after
veil of deepening gloom, merging into the "darkness which may be felt,"
for the twelve hours of the tropical night. Gathering clouds reveal but
scanty glimpses of the moon in these January weeks, but through rifts
in the sombre canopy, the Southern stars hang low in the dome of
heaven, and shine like burning lamps, appearing almost within reach of
an outstretched hand.