The Birds of Paradise (known by the Malay as _Manuk Devata_, "birds of
God") were traditionally represented as lured from their celestial home
by the spicy perfume of these enchanted isles, from whence perpetual
incense steals across the sea, and rises heavenward with intoxicating
fragrance. A Dutch naturalist in 1598 says, "These birds of the sun
live in air, and never alight until they die, having neither feet nor
wings, but fall senseless with the fragrance of the nutmeg." Linnaeus
asserts that "they feed on the nectar of flowers, and show an equal
variety of colour, blue and yellow, orange and green, red and violet."
Portuguese naturalists also represent the _passaros de sol_ as
footless, their mode of flight concealing the extremities. Birds of
Paradise were articles of tribute from native chiefs, and a sacred
character belonged to the feathered tribe, wheeling between earth and
sky above the spicy groves of the alluring Moluccas. This island group,
for ages the coveted prize of European nations, exercised an
irresistible attraction on Arabia and Persia. Various expeditions were
organised, and in the ninth century Arab sages discovered the healing
virtues of nutmeg and mace, as anodynes, embrocations, and condiments.
A record remains of a certain Ibn Amram, an Arabian physician, whose
uncontrolled passion for the _nux moschata_ overthrew his reason. The
story, continually quoted as a warning to subsequent explorers of the
Spice Islands, has apparently kept his memory green, for no previous
details of his career have come down to us. Eastern spices were
favourite medicines in Persia during the tenth century, and fifty years
later the _karoun aromatikon_ was added to the Pharmacopeia of Europe.
In A.D. 1400, Genoa and Barcelona became the principal spice markets,
though the attention of Northern Europe had been directed to the
Moluccas by those voyages of Marco Polo which, especially in lands of
fog and snow, fired popular imagination with myriad visions of realised
romance. Camöens, in the Lusiad, chanted the praises of the _verde noz_
in those poetic groves, which he regarded as a new garden of
Hesperides, when the magic lure of an untravelled distance, and the
dreamful wonder of an untracked horizon, wove their spells over the
mind of an awakening world. Powers of observation and comparison were
still untrained and untried; superstition was rife, and a necromantic
origin was frequently ascribed to the unfamiliar products of the mystic
East. Portugal, in the zenith of her maritime power, became the first
European trader in the Southern Seas, and in A.D. 1511 Albuquerque
reached the Moluccas, but was quickly followed by the Spaniards under
their great Emperor Charles V. Incessant war continued for the
possession of "the gold-bearing trees," until Spain and Portugal,
united by a common danger, combined their forces to exclude the
northern nations from any share in the coveted spoil. The rage for
spices spread throughout Europe, and kindled a fire of international
animosity which lasted for centuries. In A.D. 1595 the unwieldy Dutch
ships started on a perilous voyage round the Cape, to trace the unknown
path to the mysterious Moluccas, described as "odorous with trees of
notemuge, sending of their fragrance across the sea on the softe breath
of the south winde," and Holland, at the climax of her power,
eventually secured the monopoly of spices. The islands so fiercely
contested were twice owned by England, but finally relinquished in that
readjustment of power necessitated by the fall of Napoleon. Although
the Moluccas were declared open to the flag of every friendly nation in
1853, it was not until twenty years later that every vestige of
monopoly disappeared, and the Spice Islands were liberated from the
political chicanery of rival Powers. Peace brooded at last over the
sea-girt Elysium, where "Nature tries her finest touch," and in the
green shades of these "ultimate islands," the tumult of the world died
away into silence. Old German and Flemish ballads borrow quaint
anachronisms from that sylvan sanctuary of incense-laden sweetness,
which coloured the thoughts and dreams of contemporary poets, and added
exotic traits to their descriptions of northern scenery. "The nutmeg
boughs in the Garden of Love," droop over the fair-haired Teutonic
maiden in her home amid German pine-forests, and she gathers "the
scented fruit of gold," as a worthy _gage d'amour_ for her stalwart
Saxon lover, with that picturesque incongruity of poetical license
permitted to mediæval versifiers. The canvas of many an early painter
depicts the sacred figures of Madonna and Child on an incongruous
background of German or Italian landscape, and the mediæval poet seldom
hesitates to enrich his verse with whimsical allusions, full of
fantastical inaccuracy, but valuable as revelations of current thoughts
and ideas. Only a slight sketch of the prolonged conflict waged for
centuries round the nutmeg groves of the remote Moluccas is possible in
this little record, but even the briefest account of the Spice Islands
demands mention of evidence proving the value attached to the precious
"fruit of gold," then outweighing every other product of tropical
climes in popular estimation.
Three volcanic peaks tower up before us on reaching Ternate, the first
of the Molucca group. This mountain chain includes types representing
every period of volcanic agency. The smoking cone of Ternate slopes in
sweeping contours to the blue strait unbroken by bay or creek, and
smaller satellites flank the central height, grooved by wooded gorges.
The serrated ridge of Tidore, the opposite island, culminates in the
red pinnacle formed by a fresh pyramid of lava above the ruined wall of
a broken crater, the gap creating a sheltered inlet, where a fishing
boat with yellow sails skims like a huge butterfly across the
shimmering purple of the flowing tide. The fretted turquoise of the
further range rises on the great island of Halmaheira, inhabited by an
Alfoer population of Papuan origin, but beyond the scope of the present
cruise. The port of Ternate, on the southern slope of the volcano,
shows the pointed gables of palm-thatched dwellings rising from masses
of glorious greenery, brightened by purple torrents of bougainvillea,
or golden-flowered ansena trees, wreathed and roped with a gorgeous
tangle of many-coloured creepers. The breath of heavily-scented flowers
mingles with the pungent sweetness of clove and nutmeg. An avenue of
dadap trees skirts the shore, with varied foliage of amber and carmine.
The dark figures sauntering in the shade, and clad in rose-colour,
azure, or orange, add deeper notes to the symphony of colour, only
marred by the white-washed Dutch conventicle, like an emphatic protest
against Nature's response to her Creator. Ruined arches and pillars of
white Portuguese houses, standing in a wilderness of verdure amid
tumbled heaps of stone and concrete, testify to the earthquakes which
have continually wrecked the little port. The mixed population includes
Chinese, Arabs, and Malays. The original native race also contains
Malay, Dutch, and Portuguese elements, European descent resulting here
as elsewhere in darkening the native brown of the pure-blooded
Ternatian to ebony blackness in the second and succeeding generations.
The discovery of an English-speaking schoolmistress simplifies the
day's itinerary, which begins with the thatched palace or _kedaton_ of
the Sultan. The tiered roofs of the royal _Messighit_ rise above the
_atap_ dwellings of the rustic Court, still professing a slack
Mohammedanism. The Dutch territory includes the Chinese and Oriental
_campongs_ divided by Fort Orange, but though the palmy days of
Ternate's hereditary Ruler have long since passed away, he retains a
shadowy authority over a limited area. Sir Francis Drake, on one of his
romantic voyages, touched at Ternate in the early days of the 16th
century, and in graphic words records his amazement at "the fair and
princely show" of this barbaric potentate, who sat robed in cloth of
gold, beneath a gold-embroidered canopy, and wore "a crown of plaited
golden links." Chains of diamonds and emeralds clasped his swarthy
neck, and on the royal right hand "there shone a big and perfect blue
turky." This regal splendour was attained by monopoly of the Spice
Trade, the incalculable profits inducing Europeans to exchange fortunes
of gold and jewels with native magnates. The Dutch, when seizing the
islands, often compelled the local Sultans to destroy acres of
spice-bearing trees, in order to concentrate the focus of commerce. The
thriving industries of _copra_, rattan, and _damar_ (the gum used in
making varnish) were increased tenfold by the abolition of private
spice-trading, and by emancipation of the slaves in 1861, when the
Dutch Government placed the liberated population under police
surveillance, compelling each individual to prove honest acquirement of
the slender means necessary for subsistence. Contact with the world
begins to sharpen native intelligence, already heightened by the fusion
of European blood with the island race, and external cleanliness being
enforced systematically in Dutch territory, the concrete cottages which
alternate with the thatched dwellings are dazzlingly white, the
diligent sweeping and watering at fixed hours helping to energise the
indolent people of the Moluccas. The warm air, redolent of spices and
flowers, the riotous profusion of richest foliage, and the depth of
colour in sea and sky, imbue Ternate with the glow and glamour of
fairyland. Bright faces and gay songs manifest that physical _joie de
vivre_ of which Northern nations know so little. The grass screens
hanging before the open houses are drawn to keep off the burning sun,
but the twang of lutes (a relic of the Portuguese occupation), and the
sound of laughter echo from the dusky interiors. A forest of mangos,
mangosteens, bread-fruit, and cocoa-palms, extends between the town and
Fort Teloko, the first Portuguese stronghold, and now a rocky outpost
of Fort Orange, the headquarters of the Dutch troops. Beyond shadowy
nutmeg groves lies the Laguna, a volcanic lake between mountain and
sea. In the poetic Moluccas one draws closer to the warm heart of
Nature than in any other part of the vast Archipelago, for the great
Mother seems calling her children to rest, as she raises the veil from
her inmost shrine and discloses her altar of peace. The presence of the
smoking volcano which dominates the landscape, supplies that poignant
note which, like a minor chord, accentuates the sweetness of the
melody. "Gather ye roses while ye may," sounds Nature's admonition to
humanity amid the lavish loveliness of blossom and foliage, clothing
the mysterious height which hides the smouldering fountains of eternal
fire beneath the vivid splendours of tropical vegetation. The
population of Ternate--native, Malay, Dutch, and half-caste--throngs
the wharf; the pretty schoolmistress, in spotless muslin, waves a
smiling farewell. Though we are to each other but as "ships that pass
in the night," the memory of cheery words and gracious deeds throws
rays of light across the surging seas, and the golden cord of kindness
anchors heart to heart. Passengers are few from these remote parts. A
Dutch officer, with a half-caste wife and two unruly children, whose
violent outbreaks would even give points to the juvenile English of
British India, are returning from a three years' exile at Ternate. The
incompetence of Malay nurses is equalled by the maternal indifference
to kicking and squealing, which threatens pandemonium for the remainder
of the voyage. At the last moment the native Sultan of Batjan embarks
for his island home, after commercial negotiations in Ternate, for this
native prince, a keen-faced man in European dress and scarlet turban,
trades largely in _damar_, the basis of his wealth. When at anchor next
morning in the wooded bay of Batjan, the green State Barge of his
Highness, with drums beating and banners flying, flashes through the
water, the blades of the large green oars shaped like lotus-leaves. A
horse's head carved at the prow, and a line of floating pennants--red,
black, and white--above the gilded roof of the deck-house, enhance the
barbaric effect of the gaudy boat, the brown rowers clad in white,
with gay scarves and turbans.
Although our ship possesses a launch, various modes of landing are
required by the vagaries of the tide, the outlying reefs, and the
position of the ports. A wobbling erection of crossed oars, a plank
insecurely poised on the shoulders of two men, a rocking _bloto_, and
an occasional wade to shore, with shoes and stockings in hand, vary the
monotony of the proceedings. Landing at Batjan is accomplished in a
chair, borne aloft on two woolly black heads, but the shore, being cut
off by a crowd of fishing craft, can only be reached by sundry
scrambles over intermediate boats. The Sultan's modest mansion stands
in the midst of the palm-thatched _campong_, ostensibly guarded by a
grey fort, among rustling bamboos and tall sugar-canes. A friendly
native offers me a palm-leaf basket, filled with nutmeg sprays of
glossy leaves and yellow fruit from a roadside plantation, and a tribe
of children, dancing along through the delicious shade of a palm-grove,
leads the way to a point of view on a green knoll, with merry laughter
and eager gesticulation. Blue mountain crests soar above dark realms of
virgin forest, where the sombre conifers exude the precious _damar_,
which glues itself to the red trunks in shining lumps often of twenty
pounds' weight, or sinks deeply into the soft soil, from whence the
solidified gum needs excavation. The _damar_, pounded and poured into
palm-leaf tubes, serves for the torches of the fishermen, and for the
lighting of the dusky native houses. Batjan--rich in gold, copper, and
coal--awaits full development of the mineral treasures hidden in the
mountains of the interior. The island was colonised in early days by a
band of wandering Malays, who exchanged the perils of the sea for the
tropical abundance of this unknown anchorage, sheltered within the
reefs of the lagoon-like bay. If an aboriginal element existed in
Batjan, it probably died out or mingled with the immigrant race, which
broke off from the main body of the nomadic Malays, and formed one of
the numerous sub-divisions of the stock eventually planted on almost
every island and continent of the vast Pacific. The weaving of a bark
cloth, stained with the red juice of water-plants, suggests an industry
of these early days. The native cuisine still includes the unfamiliar
Malay delicacy of flying fox cooked in spice, and the hereditary skill
in hunting finds endless satisfaction in forests abounding with deer,
wild pig, and edible birds. A touch of barbarism lends a charm to
mysterious Batjan, and the marked individuality which belongs to every
portion of the Molucca group is nowhere more apparent than in this
island, which lies on the borderland of civilisation without losing the
distinctive character stamped upon it by the influences of an
immemorial past.
Crescent-shaped Boeroe, where difficulties in landing involve launch,
_bloto_, and paddling through a long reach of shallow water to a black
swamp, possesses a commercial rather than an artistic value, being the
only place in the Archipelago which exports eucalyptus oil, locally
known as _kajopoetah_. A fleet of _praus_, with graceful masts of
bending bamboo, surrounds the steamer, the aromatic cargo packed in
long bamboo cases. The head-man of the _campong_, lightly attired in
his native brown, with a few touches of contrasting colour in scarf and
turban, acts as escort through a maze of weedy paths, and across bamboo
bridges in various stages of dilapidation to a couple of dreary
villages. The religious interests of Boeroe are represented by two
ruinous _Messighits_, and a deplorable Dutch conventicle. Some Hindu
element underlies native idiosyncracy, for nearly every forehead bears
a white prayer-mark, but the unchanging conservatism of localities
almost untouched by the lapse of Time, often retains symbolic forms
when their original meaning is entirely forgotten, and the lack of
missionary or educational enterprise among the Dutch exercises a
paralysing effect on the small communities of distant islands. Only a
relative poverty belongs to a clime where the shaking of a sago-palm
provides a large family with rations for three months, but the physical
energies of Boeroe have ebbed to a point where "desire fails," and the
unsatisfactory conditions of life meet for the most part with apathetic
acceptance. The marshy coast abounds with harmless snakes, but these
gruesome inmates of the tropical morass seldom leave their
hiding-places before sunset. The presence of the steamer awakens a
faint simulacrum of life and interest in sleepy Boeroe, and a native
woman, in the rusty black calico wherewith Dutch Calvinism counteracts
the Eastern love of glowing colours, brings a rickety chair from her
dingy hut, and sets the precious possession under a shadowy nutmeg-tree
in the village street. A little crowd assembles, for local excitements
are few, and the Malay phrase-book, an inseparable companion, aids in
carrying on a halting conversation, eked out with signs and facial
contortions. No school is found on Boeroe, and the simple people assert
with submissive sadness that nothing is done for them. The tone of
regret suggests an underlying consciousness of the hopeless ignorance
inevitable under the conditions of their narrow lot. The watery plain,
covered with tangled verdure, extends to the foot of the twin peaks
which merge into a low range of wooded hills, their lower slopes
glistening with the grey-green foliage of the great _kajopoetah_ trees.
The writhing roots of screw-palms rise above the green marshes, and
patches of tobacco alternate with ripening millet, but every crop seems
allowed to degenerate into unpruned disorder, and the feeble attempts
at cultivation soon lapse into the surrounding wilderness. The ruddy
trunk of the candelabra-tree towers above the ferns and oil-palms of
the tall undergrowth, the glossy sword-like leaves, often ten feet
long, being woven into the _cocoyas_, or sleeping mats, peculiar to
Boeroe. The whistle of the steamer proves a welcome summons from this
melancholy island, a solitary exception to the divine beauty and
irresistible witchery of the Molucca group.