The wealthy owner of a vast estate takes little heed of the peasant
gardens fringing its circumference. Absorbed in the consideration of his
forest glades and fertile corn-fields, his rich pastures and countless
kine, he forgets the existence of the paddocks and cabbage-plots that
nestle in the patronising shadow of his park paling. Occasionally he may
vouchsafe a friendly glance to the trim borders of the one, or the
solitary milch cow grazing in the other: he must be a very Ahab to view
them with a covetous eye; for the most part he thinks not of them. In
the broad domains that call him master, he finds ample employment for
his energies, abundant subject of contemplation. Thus it is with
Englishmen and colonies. Holding, in right and virtue of their
adventurous spirit and peculiar genius for colonisation, immense
territories in every quarter of the globe--territories linked by a chain
of smaller possessions and fortified posts encircling the world--they
slightly concern themselves about the scanty nooks of Asia, America, and
Africa, over which wave the banners of their European rivals and allies.
They visit them little--write about them less. In some cases this
indifference has been compulsory. When the second title of the Sovereign
of Spain and the Indies was something more than an empty sound, and half
America crouched beneath the Spanish yoke, every discouragement was
shown to travellers in those distant regions; lest some French democrat
or English Protestant should disseminate the tenets of Jacobinism and
heresy, and awaken the oppressed multitude to a sense of their wrongs.
Thus was it with Mexico, of whose condition, until she rebelled against
the mother country, scarce any thing was known save what could be
gathered from the lying writings of Spanish monks. Again, remote
position and pestilential climate have daunted curiosity and repelled
research. To the Dutch possessions in the island of Java this especially
applies. Seized by the English in 1811--to prevent their falling into
the hands of the French--upon their restoration to Holland at the peace,
their ex-governor, Sir Stamford Raffles, wrote his voluminous and
erudite "History of Java." Three years later, further accounts were
given of the island in Crawford's "History of the Indian Archipelago."
In 1824, Marchal's book was published at Brussels, but proved a mere
compilation from those above named. And since then, several works upon
the same subject, some possessing merit, have been produced in Holland
and Germany, out of which countries they are little known. At the
present day, a periodical, appropriated to the affairs of the Dutch East
Indies, appears regularly at Amsterdam. But Englishmen take little
interest in Dutch colonies and colonists; and although now and then some
Eastern traveller has devoted to them a casual chapter, for a quarter of
a century nothing worth the naming has been written in our language with
reference to the island of Java.
Most men have a pet country which, above all others, they desire to
visit. Some long to roam amidst the classic relics of Italian grandeur,
or to explore the immortal sites and renowned battle-fields of Greece;
some set their affections upon Spain, and languish after Andalusia and
the Alhambra; whilst others, to whose imagination the hardy North
appeals more strongly than the soft and enervating South, meditate on
Scandinavia, thirst after the Maelstrom, and dream of Thor and Odin, of
glaciers and elk-hunts. We have a friend for whom the West Indies had a
peculiar and irresistible fascination, to which neither length of voyage
nor dread of Yellow Jack prevented his yielding; we have another--who
has never yet lost sight of Britain's cliffs--whose first period of
absence from his native land is to be devoted to a pleasure trip to
Hindostan. Such fancies and predilections may often be traced to early
reading and association, but not unfrequently they are capricious and
unaccountable, and we shall not investigate why the Eastern Archipelago,
of all the regions he had read and heard of, had the greatest
attractions for Dr. Edward Selberg, a young German physician of much
intelligence but little fortune, strongly imbued with a love of
adventure and the picturesque, and with a desire to increase his stores
of medical and scientific knowledge. The motives of his preference he
himself is puzzled to explain. Many difficulties opposed themselves to
the realisation of his darling project--a visit to the Sunda Islands.
His means were inadequate to the cost of so expensive an expedition; and
although the advantage of science was one of his objects, he had no hope
that his expenses would be defrayed by the government of his own or of
any other country. At last, through friends in Amsterdam, he obtained
the appointment of surgeon to a transport, on board of which, in
September 1837, he sailed from the Helder for the island of Java.
Besides the ship's company, he had for companions of his voyage a
hundred soldiers and two officers. The Dutch East Indies hold out small
temptation either to civil or military adventurers. Few visions of
speedy fortune, fewer still of rank and glory, dazzle the young and
ardent, and lure them from their native land to the fever-breeding
swamps of Batavia. Thus the Dutch government cannot afford to be very
squeamish as to the character and quality of the men it sends thither.
Dr. Selberg's account of his fellow-passengers is evidence of this.
"Amongst the soldiers," he says, "were natives of various countries,
Dutch, Belgians, French, Swiss; nearly half of them consisted of the
refuse of the different German states. Most villanous was the
physiognomy of many of these; the traces of every vice, and the ravages
of the various climates they had lived in, were visible upon their
countenances. They were men who had served in Algiers, Spain, or the
West Indies, who had been driven back to Germany by a craving after
their native land, and who, after a short residence there, weary of
inactivity, or urged by necessity, had enlisted in the Dutch East India
service. The Dutchmen consisted of convicts, whose imprisonment had been
remitted or abridged, on condition of their entering a colonial
regiment. These were the worst of the whole lot; they feared no
punishment, being fully persuaded that death awaited them in the
terrible climate of Java, and it was scarcely possible to check their
insubordination and excesses. Another very small section of the
detachment was composed of adventurers, whom wild dreams of fortune,
never to be realised, had induced to enlist for the sake of a free
passage."
Idleness would render such motley herds of evil-doers doubly difficult
to restrain, and the Dutch government provides, as far as is possible on
board ship, for their occupation and amusement. On the Betsey and Sara,
the name of Dr. Selberg's transport, guards were regularly mounted;
pipes, tobacco, dominos, nine-pins, and even musical instruments, were
abundantly supplied to the restless and discontented soldiery. But it
was the season of the equinox, and, for some time, sea-sickness caused
such toys to be neglected. Only when they had passed Madeira, the
weather became fine, and Dr. Selberg was able to enjoy his voyage and
make his observations. The latter were at first confined to the
dolphins, sharks, and shoals of flying-fish which surrounded the vessel;
and as to the enjoyment, it was of very short duration. After the first
month, the cool trade-wind left them, and they suffered from intolerable
heat. The soldiers had a comical appearance, standing on sentry with
musket and side-arms, but with a night-cap, shirt, linen shoes, and
trousers for their sole garments. To add to the irksomeness of life at
sea, there was little cordiality amongst the officers, who lived apart
as much as their narrow quarters would allow. One of them, a young
lieutenant, who, in hopes of advancement, had abandoned his country,
family, and mistress, was unable to bear up against the regrets that
assailed him, and shot himself early in the voyage. For fear of quarrels
between soldiers and sailors, the Line was passed without the usual
burlesque ceremonies. At last, on New-Year's-day, the ship dropped her
anchor in Batavia roads, at about a league and a half from shore. The
mud banks at the entrance of the two rivers which there enter the sea,
prohibit the nearer approach of large vessels; and many ships observe a
still greater distance to avoid the malaria blown over to them by the
land-wind.
The heat of those latitudes rendering rowing too violent an exertion for
European sailors, four Malays were taken on board the Betsey and Sara,
to maintain the communication with shore. It was with a joyful heart
that Dr. Selberg, weary of his protracted voyage, sprang into a boat,
and was landed in the port of Batavia. He found few traces of the
grandeur which once gave to that city the title of the Pearl of the
East. The gem has lost its sparkle; scarce a vestige of former
brilliancy remains. Choked canals, falling houses, lifeless streets, on
all sides meet and offend the eye; only here and there a stately edifice
tells of better days. The most remarkable is the Stadt-Huis, or
town-house, a gigantic building of a simple but appropriate style of
architecture, with handsome wings enclosing a large paved court.
Formerly, this structure included the tribunals, bank, and
foundling-hospital, but the unhealthiness of the city has caused the
removal of those institutions to the elevated suburb of Weltevreden. The
wings are still used as prisons. None of the other public buildings
claim especial notice. Built after the plan of Amsterdam, the close
streets, and the canals that intersect them, have contributed no little
to the insalubrity of Batavia. Only in the day-time does the city show
signs of life; towards evening, all Europeans fly the poisonous
atmosphere that has destroyed so many of their countrymen, and seek the
purer air of the suburbs and adjacent villages. There they have their
dwelling-houses, and pass the night. At nine in the morning, the roads
leading to Batavia are covered with carriages,--as necessary in Java as
boots and shoes are in Europe, walking being out of the question in that
climate,--and life returns to the deserted city. Chinese, Arabs, and
Armenians busy themselves in their shops, where the products of
three-quarters of the globe are displayed; the European merchant, clad
in a loose cotton dress, repairs to his counting-house, the public
offices are thrown open, and the bazaar is crowded with the numerous
races of men whom commerce has here assembled.
Including the neighbouring villages and country-houses properly
belonging to it, the city of Batavia contains about 3000 European
inhabitants, exclusive of the garrison, 23,000 Javans and Malays, 14,700
Chinese, 600 Arabs, and 9000 slaves. A grievous falling off from the
time when the population was of 160,000 souls. The Arabs, Chinese, and
Javans, have each their allotted quarter, or camp, as it is termed. That
of the Arabs is in the Rua Malacca--a remnant of the old Portuguese
nomenclature--and consists of a medley of low, Dutch-built houses, and
of light bamboo huts. The Arabs are greatly looked up to by the
aborigines, who attribute to them an especial holiness on account of
their strict observance of the Mahomedan law; and to such an extent is
this reverence carried that vessels known to belong to them are
respected by the pirates of the Archipelago. Remarkable for their quiet,
orderly lives, crime is said to be unknown amongst them. They are under
the orders of a chief upon whom the Dutch government confers the title
of Major, and who is answerable for the good behaviour of his
countrymen. Whilst traversing their quarter, Dr. Selberg observed, in
front of many of the doors, triumphal arches of green boughs, decorated
with coloured paper--an indication that the occupants of those dwellings
had recently returned from a pilgrimage to Mecca, and thence had a
peculiar claim on the respect of all true believers.
The way to the Chinese district is through a labyrinth of deserted
streets and crumbling houses, abandoned on account of their
unhealthiness. The contrast is striking on emerging from this scene of
solitude and desolation into the bustling Chinese Kampong, where that
active and ingenious people carry on their innumerable trades and
handicrafts. Here mechanics, with the simplest and seemingly most
inadequate tools, give a perfect finish to their manufactures; here are
shops full of toys, clothes, food, of every thing in short that can
minister to the wants and tastes of Chinese, Javans, or Europeans. "On
the roofs of several Chinese houses, I saw jars, some with the mouth,
others with the bottom turned towards the street. They are so placed in
conformity with a singular custom. The jar whose bottom is turned to the
street indicates that there is in the house a daughter not yet grown up.
When the damsel becomes marriageable, the position of the jar is
reversed; and when she marries, it is taken down altogether."
Both numerically and by reason of their energy and industry the Chinese
form a very important part of the population of Java, and but for the
precautions of the Dutch government they would soon entirely overrun the
island. The number allowed to settle there annually, is limited by law,
and during Dr. Selberg's stay at Surubaya, he saw a large junk,
containing four hundred of them, compelled to put back without landing a
passenger. Thus their numbers are kept stationary, or may even be said
to decrease; for in 1817, Raffles estimated the Chinese in Java at
nearly a hundred thousand, whilst Dr. Selberg, twenty years later,
calculates them at eighty-five thousand. Although in China emigration is
forbidden by law, from the over-populated districts, and when the
harvest fails, thousands of Chinese make their escape, and repair to
various of the East Indian islands. The majority of those in Java have
been born there of Javan women married to Chinese men, who compel their
wives to adopt their national usages. The children of these unions are
called _pernakans_ by the Dutch, and in their turn are married to
Chinese. The result has been a race which cannot be distinguished from
the pure Chinese. New comers from the mainland generally arrive with
little besides the clothes upon their backs, and obtain employment and
support from their more prosperous countrymen until they know the
customs and language sufficiently to make their way unassisted. Proud
and conceited as they are in their own land, in Java they are humble and
submissive, and seek their ends by craft and cunning. Laborious and
clever, they would be of great benefit to their adopted country, but for
their greediness and want of principle. In that oppressive and relaxing
climate, the European workman has no chance with them, and moreover they
accomplish the same results with half the number of tools. On the other
hand, they are sensual and debauched, and desperate gamblers. Their
favourite game is Topho, a bastard Rouge et Noir, at which they swindle
the simple Javans in the most unscrupulous and barefaced manner.
The unhealthiness of Batavia, arising from stagnant canals, bad
drinking-water, and adjacent swamps, has often been erroneously
considered to extend to the entire island. The whole has been condemned
for the fault of a fraction. Intermittent and remittent fevers, and
dysentery, are the diseases most common, but they are generally confined
to small districts. "Java," says Mr. Currie, surgeon of the 78th
Regiment, which was quartered in Batavia during the whole period of the
British occupation, from 1811 to 1815, "need no longer be held up as the
grave of Europeans, for, except in the immediate neighbourhood of
salt-marshes and forests, as in the city of Batavia, and two or three
other places on the north coast, it may be safely affirmed that no
tropical climate is superior to it in salubrity." The author of a
hastily written and desultory volume of oriental travel,[19] founded,
however, on personal experience, goes much further than this, and
maintains, that "with common prudence, eschewing _in toto_ the vile
habit of drinking gin and water whenever one feels thirsty, living
generously but carefully, avoiding the sun's rays by always using a
close or hooded carriage, and taking common precautions against wet feet
and damp clothing, a man may live, and enjoy life too, in Batavia, as
long as he would in any other part of the world." Mr. Davidson here
refers not to the city of Batavia--which he admits to be a fatal
residence, especially in the rainy season--but to the suburbs where he
resided some years. These, however, only come in the second class, as
regards salubrity, and are much too near the swamps, forests, and slimy
sea-shore, to be a desirable abode, except for those whom business,
compels to live within a drive of the city. Waitz, the Dutch writer, in
his _Levensregeln voor Oost Indie_, divides the European settlements in
Java into three classes; the healthy, or mountain districts, where the
air is dry, and the temperature moderate; the less healthy, which are
warm and damp; and finally, the positively pestiferous, where, besides
tremendous heat and great moisture, the atmosphere is laden with marsh
miasmata. Weltevrede, Ryswyk, and the other villages, or rather,
_faubourgs_, south of Batavia, belong to the second class; Batavia
itself, Bantam, Cheribon, Tubang, and Banjowangie, to the third, or
worst division. And Dr. Selberg informs us, that the only two upas-trees
whose existence he could ascertain, grow at Cheribon and Banjowangie,
which of course was likely to confirm the popular superstition
concerning the baneful influence of that tree. The coincidence, which at
first appears remarkable, is of easy explanation, the upas preferring a
swampy soil.
With respect to the possible longevity of Europeans in Java, Dr.
Selberg's account materially differs from Mr. Davidson's estimate. The
Dutch _employes_ have to serve sixteen years in the colony to be
entitled to a furlough and free passage home, and twenty years for a
pension. Very few, according to the doctor, live long enough to enjoy
the one or the other. And those who do, buy the privilege at a dear
rate. Their emaciated bodies, enfeebled minds, thin hair, and dim eyes,
show them to be blighted in their prime. True it is that, with few
exceptions, they utterly neglect the primary conditions of health in a
hot country. They enervate themselves by sensual indulgences, and
consume spirits and spices by wholesale. There is an absurd belief
amongst them, that drink keeps off disease and preserves life, a case
of _aut bibendum aut moriendum_; whereas the truth is precisely the
contrary, for in that climate spirits are poison. The fact probably is,
that they drink to dispel ennui, and to banish, at least for a while,
the regret they feel at having exchanged Europe for Java. Dr. Selberg,
states, that every European he spoke to in the colony, longed to leave
it. But the voyage home is costly, and so they linger on until death or
their furlough relieves them. Some lucky ones succeed in making rapid
fortunes, but these are the very few, whose example, however, suffices
to seduce others of their countrymen from their Dutch comforts, to brave
fevers, tigers, mosquitoes, and the other great and little perils of
Java, in pursuit of wealth which they rarely acquire, and which, when
obtained, their impaired health renders it difficult for them to enjoy.
Another class of the colonists consists of men who, having committed
crimes in their own country, have fled from the vengeance of the law.
These are thought little the worse of in Java, where the transition from
one quarter of the globe to the other seems admitted as a species of
moral whitewashing. And indeed, bad characters so abound amongst the
scanty European population, that if the respectable portion kept
themselves aloof, they would probably be found the minority. Many of the
reprobates have realised considerable property. The rich host of the
principal hotel at Surabaya, is a branded galley-slave. Dr. Selberg
often found himself in the society of hard drinkers, and these, when
wine had loosened their tongues, would let out details of their past
lives, which at first greatly shocked his simplicity. "I was once," he
says, "invited to a dinner, which ended, as usual, with a drinking bout.
My neighbour at the table, was a German from the Rhine provinces, who
had been twelve years in Java. He got very drunk, and spoke of his
beloved country, which he should never see again. He was a man of
property, well looked upon in the island, and I asked him what had first
induced him to settle there. He replied very quietly, that it was on
account of a theft he had committed. I started from my chair as if an
adder had bitten me, and begged the master of the house to let me sit
elsewhere than beside that man. He complied with my request, at the same
time remarking, with a smile, that I should hear similar things of many,
but that they were Europeans, and jolly fellows, and their conduct had
been blameless since their residence in Java." In such a state of
society, the best plan was to abstain from inquiries and intimacies. So
the doctor found, and after a while, was able to eat the excellent Javan
dinners, and sip his Medoc and Hochheimer, without asking or caring
whether his fellow-feeders would not have been more in their places in
an Amsterdam Zuchthaus, than in an honest man's company.
Dr. Selberg was at Batavia during the wet season, when torrents of rain,
of whose abundance and volume Europeans can form no idea, alternate with
a sun-heat that cracks the earth and pumps up pestilence from the low
marshy ground upon which this fever-nest is built. He had abundant
opportunity to investigate the causes and symptoms of the fevers and
other prevalent maladies. His zeal in the cause of science led him into
serious peril, by inducing him to pass a night in the city, at a time
when that unlucky portion of the inhabitants whom poverty or other
causes prevent from leaving it, were dying like flies from the effects
of the noxious exhalations. The quality of the air was so bad as
sensibly to affect the lungs and olfactories, and impede respiration;
and, though exposed to it but a very few hours, he experienced various
unpleasant symptoms, only to be dissipated by recourse to his medicine
chest. Hence some idea may be formed of the terrible effect of that
corrupt atmosphere upon those who continually breathe it. The plague of
mosquitoes, who find their natural element in the marsh-vapour, also
contributes to render Batavia an intolerable sleeping-place. One very
singular phenomenon observed by Dr. Selberg, but for which he does not
attempt to account, is the strong odour of musk constantly perceptible
in the city and its environs.
As less interesting to the general than to the medical reader, we pass
over the doctor's febrile researches, and accompany him to the town of
Surabaya, to which he proceeded after a few days' stay at Batavia. "It
was four in the afternoon when we came to an anchor: in an instant the
ship was surrounded by a swarm of the small native boats--tambangans, as
they are called; and we were assailed by all manner of noisy greetings
and offers of service. Some of the applicants wished to row us to the
town, others insisted upon selling us fruit and eatables, pine-apples,
shaddocks, arrack, dried fish, boiled crabs, &c. &c., contained in tubs
and jars of very dubious cleanliness. Chinese pressed upon our notice
their various wares;--large straw hats, beautifully plaited; cigars,
parasols, Indian ink, fans, and the like trifles. Here was a Javan proa,
full of boots and shoes, of all colours; yonder, a floating menagerie of
parrots, macaws, apes, and cockatoos, equally variegated, and to be sold
for a song. There were jewellers, and diamond merchants, and dealers in
carved horn and ivory; washer-women petitioning for custom, and
exhibiting certificates of honesty in a dozen different languages, not
one of which they understood; canoes full of young Javan girls,--these
last also for sale. I at once saw that I had come into a neighbourhood
where European civilisation had made considerable progress. Without
exception, I found the morals of the aborigines at the lowest pitch in
the vicinity of the large European establishments.
"It was a cheerful bustling scene. 'Here, sir, food!' 'Sir, you are
welcome!' 'Gold from Padang!' 'Shoes for a silver florin!' 'Capital
arrack!' and fifty other cries, mingled with the screams and chatter of
the birds; whilst a great orang-outang from Borneo, and a number of
monkeys, in different boats, insulted one another by the most diabolical
grimaces. Many of the canoes were mere hollow trees, enclosed, to
prevent their capsizing, in a frame-work of large bamboo stems, two of
these being fixed transversely to bow and stern of the boat, and having
their extremities connected by others running parallel to it. The
lightness and buoyancy of the bamboos obviate all risk of the boats
swamping. I have seen them out in a rough sea, tossed upon the waves,
and showing nearly the whole of their keel, but I never knew one to
upset."
The town of Surabaya, or Sorabaya, (Crocodile Resort,) is situated
towards the eastern extremity of the north coast of Java, opposite the
island of Madura, and at five hundred English miles from Batavia. It
stands in a large plain near the mouth of the Kalimas, or Gold River;
and, at the present day, is the most flourishing of the Dutch
establishments in Java. The climate is damp and hot, the thermometer
often standing at eighty-five in the night; but it is less unhealthy
than that of Batavia. The river is not drained and frittered away by
canals; the town is well planned and open; and the handsome houses are
interspersed with beautiful gardens. As at Batavia, however, the harbour
is more or less impeded by mud-banks, which prevent the entrance of
large ships. Favoured and encouraged by the Dutch governor, General
Daendels, and by his successor, Baron Van der Capellen, the place grew
rapidly in size and prosperity. It possesses a mint, an arsenal, docks
for ship-building, anchor-founderies, and other similar establishments.
Notwithstanding these advantages, the European population amounts, in
the town and entire province, which latter is of considerable extent, to
no more than six hundred and fifty persons, exclusive of the troops. The
whole population, of all nations and colours, reaches a quarter of a
million. The mode of living is far gayer and more agreeable than at
Batavia, which, whatever it may have been in former days, is now a mere
place of business, a collection of offices, shops, and warehouses. At
Surabaya life is more secure and its enjoyment greater. Every evening,
during the fine season, the large square in the Chinese
quarter--composed of massive comfortable buildings, contrasting
favourably with the fragile huts of the Javans--is converted into a kind
of fair, where the whole city assembles. "The place is illumined with a
thousand torches, which increase, to a stranger's eyes, the curious
exotic character of the scene. Javans, Chinese, Europeans, Liplaps, (the
Batavian term for the children of Europeans and Javan women,) and
various other races, crowd thither to gaze at the shows and
performances. There jugglers and rope-dancers display their dexterity,
far surpassing that of their European brethren; Chinese comedies are
acted, and Chinese orchestras jar upon the ear of the newly arrived
foreigner; the Rongengs (dancing girls) go through their series of
voluptuous attitudes; gongs are beaten, trumpets blown; Chinese gamblers
lie upon the ground and rob the Javans at the much-loved games of tzo
and topho." The people of Java are very musical, after their fashion,
and have all manner of queer instruments, many of a barbarous
description, some borrowed from the Chinese. They are much addicted to
dramatic exhibitions and puppet shows, and claim to be the original
inventors of the _ombres chinoises_, figures moved behind a transparent
curtain. Crawford, in his "History of the Indian Archipelago," gives
them the credit of this triumph of inventive genius, which has found its
way from the far Fast to the streets of London, and to Monsieur
Seraphin's saloon in the Palais Royal.
Javan diversions are not all of the same human and gentle character as
those just cited. Although mild and peaceable in disposition, the Javans
are passionately fond of fights between animals. Whilst beholding these
encounters, their usual calm gravity and mysterious reserve disappear,
and are replaced by the noisy, vehement eagerness of an excited boy.
Cock-fights are in great vogue, and in many an old Javan poem the
exploits of the crested combatants are related in a strain of laughable
magniloquence. But other and more serious contests frequently take
place. Before speaking of them, we turn to Dr. Selberg's spirited
account of a tiger-hunt, which occurred during his stay at Surabaya.
Tigers of various species abound in Java. The commonest are the royal
tiler and the leopard, of which latter animal the black tiger is a
bastard variety. Cubs of both kinds are frequently found in the same
lair; and when the black tiger is very young, leopard-like spots are
discernible on its skin. As it grows older, they disappear, and the hair
becomes of a uniform black. In the interior of Java much mischief is
done by these cowardly but bloodthirsty and cunning beasts. In the
neighbourhood of the large European settlements, accidents are less
frequent, the tiger shunning populous districts, and retreating into the
forest on the approach of man. When one makes its appearance, the
authorities generally order a battue. Very few, however, are killed,
though a price is set upon their heads, and they continue to destroy
about three hundred Javans per annum, on a moderate average. This is, in
great measure, the fault of the natives themselves, who, instead of
doing their utmost to exterminate the breed, entertain a sort of
superstitious respect for their devourers, and carry it so far as to
place food in the places to which they are known to resort, thinking
thereby to propitiate the foe, and keep his claws off their wives and
children. They themselves, when compelled to oppose the tiger, or when
led against him by their European allies, show vast coolness and
courage, the more remarkable, as, in ordinary circumstances of danger,
they are by no means a brave people. Raffles quotes several anecdotes of
their fearlessness before wild beasts, and Dr. Selberg furnishes one of
a similar kind. "A Javan criminal was condemned by the sultan to fight a
large royal tiger, whose ferocity was raised to the highest point by
want of food, and artificial irritation. The only weapon allowed to the
human combatant was a kreese with the point broken off. After wrapping a
cloth round his left fist and arm, the man entered the arena with an air
of undaunted calmness, and fixed a steady menacing gaze upon the brute.
The tiger sprang furiously upon his intended victim, who with
extraordinary boldness and rapidity thrust his left fist into the gaping
jaws, and at the same moment, with his keen though pointless dagger,
ripped up the beast to the very heart. In less than a minute, the tiger
lay dead at his conqueror's feet. The criminal was not only forgiven but
ennobled by his sovereign."
A tiger having attacked and torn a Javan woman, a hunt was ordered, and
Dr. Selberg was invited to share in it. He got on horseback before
daybreak, but the sun was up and hot when he reached the place of
rendezvous, where he found a strong muster of Europeans and Javans. "In
front of us was a small wood, choked and tangled with bushes: this was
the tiger's lair. At about twenty paces from the trees, we Europeans
posted ourselves, with our rifles, twelve paces from each other, and in
the form of a semicircle. Behind us was a close chain of several hundred
Javans, armed with long lances, kreeses, and short swords. If the tiger
broke through our ranks, they were to kill him after their fashion. The
natives--those, at least, who have not served as soldiers--being
unskilled in the use of fire-arms, are not trusted with them, for fear
of accidents. From the opposite side of the wood a crowd of musicians
now advanced, beating drums, triangles, and gongs, and making an
infernal din, intended to scare the tiger from his lurking place, and
drive him towards us. We were all on the alert, guns cocked, eyes
riveted on the wood. The instruments came nearer and nearer, and I
expected each moment to see the monster spring forth. There were no
signs of him, however, and presently the beaters stood before us.
Heartily disappointed at this fruitless chase and unexpected result, I
was about to join the hunter stationed to my left, when the one on my
other hand called a Javan, and bade him thrust his lance into a bush on
my right front, between our line and the little wood. Impossible,
thought I, that the beast should be there: and I turned to speak to my
friend. I had uttered but a word or two, when a rustle and rush made me
look round. The Javan stood before the bush, clutching a tiger by the
throat with both hands. The brute was already pierced with bullets,
lances, and daggers: a broad stream of blood flowed over the face of the
Javan, who continued firmly to grasp his enemy, until we released the
lifeless carcase from his hands. His wound was not so serious as we had
at first feared: a bit of the scalp was torn off, and the nose slightly
injured. He stood silent, and apparently stupefied, and revived only
when an official informed him that he should receive the reward of ten
dollars, set upon the head of every tiger."
Although these field-days occasionally take place, the Javans have
another and easier way of tiger catching, by means of a magnified
rat-trap, baited with a goat, and of which the door closes as the tiger
rushes in. The captive is then killed with bamboo spears, or, more
frequently, transferred to a strong wooden cage, and taken to a town,
where he contributes to the amusement of his conquerors by fighting the
buffalo. The Java buffalo is of the largest species, is covered with
short thick hair, and has sharp horns, more than two feet long, growing
in a nearly horizontal direction. His colour is of a dirty blue-black,
and altogether he is a very ugly customer, as the unfortunate tiger
usually finds. For these duellos between the forest grandee and the lord
of the plain, a regular arena is erected, surrounded by strong
palisades, behind which stand Javans armed with lances. After the
buffalo has been brought into the ring, a native, generally a chief,
approaches the tiger's cage with a dancing step, accompanied by music,
opens it, and retires in the same manner, keeping his eyes fixed upon
the tiger. The tiger, who well knows his formidable opponent, comes
unwillingly forth, and creeps round the arena, avoiding his foe, and
watching an opportunity to spring upon his head or neck. Presently the
buffalo, who is lost always the assailant, rushes, with a tremendous
bellow, at his sneaking antagonist. The tiger seizes a favourable
moment, and fixes his long claws in the buffalo's neck; but the furious
bull dashes him against the palisades, and, yelling fearfully, he
relinquishes his hold. He now shirks the combat more than ever; but the
buffalo follows him up till he pierces him with his horns, or crushes
him to death against the barrier. Sometimes friend Tiger proves dunghill
from the very first, and then the Javans goad him with pointed sticks,
scald him with boiling water, singe him with blazing straw, and resort
to other humane devices to spur his courage. If the buffalo fights shy,
which does not often happen, he is subjected to similar persecutions.
But the poor tiger has no chance allowed him; for if he does, through
pluck and luck, prove the better beast, the Javans, who evidently have
not the slightest notion of fair play, or any sympathy with bravery,
subject him to an unpleasant operation called the _rampoh_. They make a
ring round him, and torment him till he hazards a desperate spring, and
finds his death upon their lance points.
It is a remarkable fact, that the Java tigers seldom or never attack
Europeans. They consume the natives by dozens; but Dr. Selberg could get
no account of an onslaught on a Dutchman or any other white man. The
Javans are well aware of this, and assert, that if a number of
Europeans, amongst whom there is only one native, are exposed to the
attack of a tiger, the native is invariably the victim. This assertion
is confirmed by many examples. Dr. Selberg conjectures various reasons
for this eccentricity or epicurism, whichever it may be termed, on the
part of the tiger, and amongst other hypotheses, suggests that the
animal may be partial to the hogoo of the Javans, who anoint their
yellow carcases with cocoa-nut oil. The Javans themselves explain it
differently, and maintain that the souls of Europeans pass, after death,
into the bodies of tigers--a bitter satire upon those whose mission it
was to civilise and improve, and who, but too often, have preferred to
persecute and deprave. Such a superstition demonstrates more than whole
volumes of history, after what manner the first acquaintance was made
between this artless, peaceful people, and their European conquerors.
The early administration of the Dutch in Java was marked by many acts of
cruelty. "Their leading traits," says Raffles, "were a haughty
assumption of superiority, for the purpose of over-awing the credulous
simplicity of the natives, and a most extraordinary timidity, which led
them to suspect treachery and danger in quarters where they were least
to be apprehended." Thus we find them, in the sixteenth century,
murdering the Prince of Madura, his wives, children, and followers,
merely because, when he came to visit them on board their ships, with
friendly intentions and by previous agreement, his numerous retinue
inspired them with alarm. The massacre of the Chinese in the streets of
Batavia, in the year 1731, when nine thousand were slain in cold blood
in the course of one morning, is another crime on record against the
Dutch. Step by step, their path marked with blood, the people who had at
first thankfully received permission to establish a single factory,
obtained possession of the whole island. On its southern side there are
still two nominally independent princes, in reality vassals of the
Dutch, and existing but at their good pleasure. The present character of
the Dutch administration is mild; the slaves, especially, now few and
decreasing in number, are humanely treated, and in fact are better off
than the lower orders of the free Javans, being employed as household
servants, whilst the natives drag out a painful and laborious existence
in the rice and coffee-fields. But, however good the intentions of the
Dutch government, however meritorious the endeavours of certain
governors-general, especially of the excellent Van der Capellen, to
civilise and improve the Javans, little progress has as yet been made
towards that desirable end. In the interior of the island, where
Europeans are scarce, the character of the natives is far better than on
the coast, where they have contracted all the vices of which the example
is so plentifully afforded them by their conquerors. Dwelling in
wretched huts, the cost of whose materials and erection varied, in the
time of Raffles, from five to ten shillings, they till, for a wretched
pittance, the soil that their forefathers possessed. Brutalised,
however, as they are, living from hand to mouth, and suffering from the
diseases incident to poverty and the climate, and from others introduced
from Europe, they appear tolerably contented. In the midst of their
misfortunes, they have one great solace, one consoling and engrossing
vice; they live to gamble. For a game of chance, they abandon every
thing, forget their duties and families, spend their own money and that
of other people, and even set their liberty on a cast of the die. It is
a national malady, extending from the prince to the boor, and including
the Liplaps or half-breeds, who generally unite the vices of their
European fathers and Indian mothers. The beast-fights are popular,
chiefly because they afford such glorious opportunity for betting.
Besides cocks and quails, tigers and buffaloes, other animals, the least
pugnacious possible, are stimulated to a contest. Locusts are made to
enter the lists, and are tickled on the head with a straw until they
reach the fighting pitch. Wild pigs are caught in snares and opposed to
goats, who generally punish them severely, the Javan pigs being small,
and possessing little strength and courage. Then there are races between
paper kites, whose strings are coated with lime and pounded glass, so
that, on coming in contact, they cut each other, and the falling kite
proclaims its owner's bet lost. And by day and night, Dr. Selberg,
informs us, on the high roads, and near the villages, groups are to be
seen stretched upon the earth, playing games of chance. Nor are these by
any means the lowest of the people. The doctor cites several instances
of the extraordinary addiction both of men and women to this vice. He
had ordered a quantity of cigars of a Javan, who undertook to make and
deliver a hundred daily, for which he was to be paid a florin. For two
days the man kept to his contract, and then did not show his face for a
week. On inquiry, it appeared that, although wretchedly poor, and having
a large family to support, he had been unable to resist the dice-box,
and had gone to gamble away his brace of florins. To get rid even of
this small sum might take him some time, thanks to the infinite
subdivisions of Javan coinage, which descend to a Pichi, or small bit of
tin with a hole through it, whereof 5,600 make a dollar. When Dr.
Selberg left Java, a Dutch pilot steered the ship as far as Passaruang.
The man appeared very melancholy, and, on being asked the of his
sadness, said that, during his previous trip, his wife had gambled all
his savings. He had forgotten the key in his money-box, and, on going
home, the last doit had disappeared. Dr. Selberg asked him if he could
not cure his better-half of so dangerous a propensity. "She is a Liplap,
sir," replied the man, with a shrug, meaning that correction was
useless, and a good lock the only remedy. The merchants who ship specie
and other valuable merchandise on vessels manned by Javans, supply the
crew with money to gamble, as the only means to rouse them from their
habitual indolent lethargy, and ensure their vigilance.
Whilst rowing up the Kalimas, Dr. Selberg was greatly dazzled by the
bright eyes and other perfections of a young half-breed lady, as she
took her airing in a _tambangan_, richly dressed in European style, and
attended by two female slaves. A few days afterwards, when driving out
to visit his friend Dr. F., the German chief of the Surabaya hospital,
he again caught sight of this brown beauty, reclining in an elegant
carriage-and-four, beneath the shadow of large Chinese parasols, held by
servants in rich liveries. Our adventurous Esculapius forthwith galloped
after her. Unfortunately, his team took it into their heads to stop
short in full career--no uncommon trick with the stubborn little Javan
horses--and before they could be prevailed upon to proceed, all trace of
the incognita was lost. Subsequently the doctor was introduced to her
husband, a German of good family, who had left his country on account of
an unfortunate duel, and who, after a short residence in Java, where he
held a government situation, had been glad to pay his debts and supply
his expensive habits by a marriage with a wealthy half-caste heiress.
The history of the lady is illustrative of a curious state of society.
She was the daughter of a Javan slave and a Dutch gentleman, the
administrator of one of the richest provinces of the island. As is there
the case with almost all half-breed children, and even with many of pure
European blood, she grew up under the care of her mother--that is to
say, under no care at all--in the society of Javans of the very lowest
class, her father's domestics. The Dutchman died when she was about ten
years old, having previously acknowledged her as his daughter, and left
her the whole of his property. The child, who, till then, had been
allowed to run about wild and almost naked, was now taken in hand by her
guardians, and converted, by means of European clothes, into an
exceedingly fine lady. Education she of course had none, but remained in
her original state of barbarous ignorance. Four years afterwards she
became acquainted with the German gentleman above-mentioned, and soon
afterwards they were married. Dr. Selberg gives a characteristic account
of his first visit at their house. "I went with Dr. F. to call upon Mr.
Von N., but that gentleman was out. 'Let us wait his return,' said my
friend, 'and in the meantime we will see what his lady is about, and you
can pay your respects to her. N. likes his wife to be treated with all
the ceremony used to a lady of condition in our own country.' We passed
through several apartments, filled with European and Asiatic furniture
and luxuries, and paused at the entrance of a large open room. With a
slight but significant gesture, F. pointed to a group which there
offered itself to our view. On a costly carpet lay several of Mr. Von
N.'s black servants, both male and female, and in the midst of them was
Mevrouw Von N., only to be distinguished from her companions by the
richer materials of her dress. A silken _sarong_ (a kind of plaid
petticoat,) and a _kabaya_ of the same material composed her costume; a
pair of Chinese slippers, of red velvet, embroidered with gold, lay near
her naked feet. She rattled a dice-box, and the servants anxiously
awaited the throw, watching with intense eagerness each movement of
their mistress. Down came the dice, and with an inarticulate cry the
winners threw themselves on the stakes. So preoccupied were the whole
party, that for some moments we were unobserved. At last an exclamation
of surprise warned the lady of our unwelcome presence. The slaves ran
away helter-skelter. Mevrouw Von N. snatched up her slippers, and with a
confused bow to Dr. F., disappeared. I was confounded at this strange
scene. My companion laughed, led me into another room, and desired me to
say nothing of what I had seen to N., who presently came in, and
received us with the unaffected frankness and hospitality universal in
Java." The _Vrouw_ was now summoned, and, after a while, made her
appearance in full European fig. Conversation with her was difficult,
for she could not speak Dutch, and through a feeling of shame at her
ignorance, would not speak Malay. Neglected by her husband, and placed
by her birth in an uncertain position between Javan and European women,
the poor girl had neither the education of the latter, nor the domestic
qualities inherent in the former. Subsequently Dr. Selberg passed some
time in Von N.'s house, and his account of what there occurred is not
very creditable to the tone and morals of Javan society. Driving out one
morning with his host, the latter quietly asked him if he was not
carrying on an intrigue with his wife. "You may speak candidly," said
he, with great unconcern, and to the infinite horror of the innocent
doctor. It appeared that Von N. had allowed his lady to discover a
conjugal dereliction on his part, and he suspected her of using
reprisals. "She is a Liplap," he said, "and though you are only an
_orang bar_ (a new comer,) you know what that means." Shocked by this
cynical proceeding on the part of his entertainer, Dr. Selberg left the
house the next day, after presenting Von N. with a double-barrelled gun
in payment of his hospitality. Throughout Java, and even where hotels
exist, private houses are invariably open to the stranger, and his
reception is most cordial. But on his departure, it is incumbent on him,
according to the custom of the island, to make his host a present,
sufficiently valuable to show that he has not accepted hospitality from
niggardly motives.
The credulity and superstition of the Javans exceed belief. Dreams,
omens, lucky and unlucky days, astrology, amulets, witchcraft, are with
them matters of faith and reverence. They believe each bush and rock,
even the air itself, to be inhabited by _Dhewo_ or spirits. Not
satisfied with the numerous varieties of supernatural beings with which
their own traditions supply them, they have borrowed others from the
Indians, Persians, and Arabs. The Dhewos are good spirits, and great
respect is shown to them. They regulate the growth of trees, ripen the
fruit, murmur in the running streams, and abide in the still shades of
the forest. But their favourite dwelling is the Warinzie tree (_ficus
Indica_,) which droops its long branches to the earth to form then a
palace. The Javans mingle their superstitions with the commonest events
of every-day life. Thieves, for instance, will throw a little earth,
taken from a new-made grave, into the house they intend to rob,
persuaded that the inmates will thereby be plunged into a deep sleep.
When they have done this, and especially if they have managed to place
the earth under the bed, they set to work with full conviction of
impunity. Bamboo boxes of soil are frequently found in the possession of
captured thieves, who usually confess the purpose to which they were to
be applied. During the English occupation, it was casually discovered
that a buffalo's skull was constantly carried backwards and forwards
from one end of the island to the other. The Javans had got a notion
that a frightful curse had been pronounced upon the man who should allow
it to remain stationary. After the skull had travelled many hundred
miles, it was brought to Samarang, and there the English resident had it
thrown into the sea. The Javans looked on quietly, and held the curse to
be neutralised by the white men's intervention. Dr. Selberg gives
various other examples, observed by himself, of the ridiculous
superstitions of these simple islanders. A very remarkable one is given
in the works of Raffles and Crawford. In 1814, it was found out that a
road had been made up to the lofty summit of the mountain of Sumbing.
The road was twenty feet broad, and about sixty English miles in length,
and a condition of its construction being that it should cross no
water-course, it straggled in countless zig-zags up the mountain side.
This gigantic work, the result of the labours of a whole province, and
of a people habitually and constitutionally averse to violent exertion,
was finished before the government became aware of its commencement. Its
origin was most absurd and trifling. An old woman gave out that she had
dreamed a dream, and that a deity was about to alight upon the mountain
top. A curse was to fall upon all who did not work at a road for his
descent into the plain. Such boundless credulity as this, is of course
easily turned to account by mischievous persons, and has often been
worked upon to incite the Javans to revolt. The history of the island,
even in modern times, abounds in insurrections, got up, for the most
part, by men of little talent, but possessing sufficient cunning to turn
the imbecility of their countrymen to their own advantage.
The weakness of the Javans' intellects is only to be equalled by their
strange want of memory. A few weeks after the occurrence of an event in
which they themselves bore a share, they have totally forgotten both its
time and circumstances. None of them have any idea of their own age. Dr.
Selberg had a servant, apparently about sixteen years old. He frequently
asked him how old he was, and never got the same answer twice. Marsden
remarked this same peculiarity in the Sumatra Malays, and Humboldt in
the Chaymas Indians. The latter people, however, do not know how to
count beyond five or six, which is not the case with the Javans. Their
want of memory renders their historical records of questionable value,
producing an awful confusion of dates, in addition to the childish tales
and extraordinary misrepresentations which they mingle with narratives
of real events.
Although, is already observed, the corruption and immorality of the
natives in and near European establishments is as great as their virtue
and simplicity in the interior, it cannot be said that crime abounds in
any part of Java. Within the present century prayers were read for the
Governor-general's safety when he went on a journey, and thanksgivings
offered up on his return; now the whole island may be travelled over
almost as safely as any part of Europe. The Javans are neither
quarrelsome nor covetous, and even when they turn robbers they seldom
kill or ill-treat those they plunder. On the other hand they are
terribly sensitive of any injury to their honour, and all insult is apt
to produce the terrible _Amok_, _freely_ rendered in English as "running
a muck." It is a Malay word, signifying to attack some one furiously and
desperately with intent to murder him. It is also used to express the
rush of a wild beast on his prey, or the charge of a body of troops,
especially with the bayonet. This outbreak of revengeful fury is
frequent with Malays, and by no means uncommon amongst Javans. In the
latter, whose usual character is so gentle, these sudden and frantic
outbursts strike the beholder with astonishment, the greater that there
is no previous indication of the coming storm. A Javan has received an
outrage, perhaps a blow, but he preserves his usual calm, grave
demeanour, until on a sudden, and with a terrible shriek, he draws his
kreese, and attacks not only those who have offended him, but
unoffending bystanders, and often the persons he best loves. It is a
temporary insanity, which usually lasts till he sinks from exhaustion,
or is himself struck down. The paroxysm over, remorse assails him, and
he bewails the sad results of his _matta glab_ or blinded eye, by which
term the Javans frequently designate the _amok_. Apprehension of danger
often brings on this species of delirium. "Two Javans," says Dr.
Selberg, "married men, and intimate friends, went one day to Tjandjur,
to sell bamboo baskets. One got rid of all his stock, went to a Chinese
shop, bought a handkerchief and umbrella for his wife, and set out on
his return home with his companion, who had been unfortunate, and had
sold nothing. The lucky seller was in high spirits, childishly delighted
at his success, and with the presents he took to his wife; his friend
walked by his side, grave and silent. Suddenly the former also became
mute; he fancied his comrade envied and intended to stab him. Drawing
his kreese, he fell upon the unoffending man, and laid him dead upon the
ground. Sudden repentance succeeded the groundless suspicion and cruel
deed, and some Javans, who soon afterwards came up, found him raving
over the body of his friend, and imploring to be delivered to justice."
Seldom, however, does an _amok_ make only one victim. The Javan women
are not subject to these fury-fits, but are not on that account the less
dangerous. Of an extremely jealous disposition, they have quiet and
subtle means of revenging themselves upon their rivals. They are skilled
in the preparation of poisons--of one especially, which kills slowly,
occasioning symptoms similar to those of consumption. When a Javan
perceives these, she resigns herself to her fate, knowing well what is
the matter with her, and rejecting antidotes as useless. And European
physicians have as yet done little against the effects of this poison,
whose ingredients they cannot discover with sufficient accuracy to
counteract them. A medical man told Dr. Selberg that copper dust and
human hair were amongst them, combined with other substances entirely
unknown to him. The dose is usually administered in rice, the chief food
of the Javans. Arsenic, another poison in common use, is sold in all the
bazaars. This poisoning practice is not unusual amongst Liplap women
married to Europeans, and who, although nominally Christians, possess,
for the most part, all the vices and superstitious of their Mahometan
sisters. The latter can hardly be said to have any religion, for they
know little of the faith of Mahomed beyond a few of its outward forms.
It has been remarked, that since Java has been more mildly governed, and
that the natives have been better treated by the Dutch, _amoks_ have
been far less frequent. By kindness, it is evident that much may be done
with the Javans, whose gratitude and fidelity to those who show it them
are admitted by all Europeans who have lived any time in the island.
Another excellent quality is their love of truth. The tribunals have
little trouble in ascertaining a criminal's guilt. He at once confesses
it, and seeks no other extenuation than is to be found in the usual plea
of moral and momentary blindness.
Passaruang was the last Javan town visited by Dr. Selberg. He had
promised himself much pleasure in exploring the province of the same
name, and in examining the various objects of interest it contains. He
intended to ascend the volcano of Pelian Bromo, whose fiery crater, seen
from a distance at sea, had excited his lively curiosity; he wished to
visit the ruins of old temples, vestiges of Javan civilisation a
thousand years ago, and to gaze at the cataracts which dash, from a
height of three hundred feet, down the rocky sides of Mount Arjuna. But
he was doomed to disappointment. Up to this time his health had been
excellent; neither heat nor malaria had succeeded in converting his
wholesome German complexion into the bilious tint that stains the cheeks
of most Europeans in Java. The climate, however, would not forego its
customary tribute, and, on his passage from Surabaya to Passaruang, he
fell seriously ill. After suffering for a week on board ship, he felt
somewhat better, and went on shore, but experienced a relapse, and was
carried senseless into the house of a rich Javan. He was gradually
getting acquainted with the comforts of the country he had so lunch
desired to visit. Already he had been nearly choked by the marsh vapour
at Batavia, half devoured by mosquitoes, and all but drowned in a
squall. In the island of Madura, whilst traversing a swamp, on the
shoulders of a native, his bearer had attempted to rob him of his watch,
and, on his resenting this liberty, he and his boat's crew were
attacked, and narrowly escaped massacre. And now came disease,
aggravated by the minor nuisances incidental to that land of vermin and
venom. Confined to bed by sudden and violent fever, he received every
kindness and attention from his friendly host, who, on leaving him at
night, placed an open cocoa nut by his bed-side, a simple but delightful
fever-draught. Awaking with a parched tongue and burning thirst, he
sought the nut, but it was empty. The next night the same thing
occurred, and he could not imagine who stole his milk. He ordered two
nuts and a light to be left near him: towards midnight a slight noise
attracted his attention, and he saw two small beasts steadily and
cautiously approach, stare at him with their protruding eyes, and then
dip their ugly snouts into his cocoa nuts. These free-and-easy vermin
were _geckos_, a species of lizard, about a foot long, of a pale
grayish-green colour, spotted with red, having a large mouth full of
sharp teeth, a long tall, marked with white rings, and sharp claws upon
their feet. Between these claws, by which they cling to whatever they
touch, is a venomous secretion that distills into the wounds they make.
Dr. Selberg was well acquainted with these comely creatures, and had
even bottled a couple, which now grace the shelves of a German museum;
but, in his then feeble and half delirious state, their presence
intimidated him; and, fancying that if he disturbed their repast, they
might transfer their attentions to himself, he allowed them to swill at
leisure, until an accidental noise scared them away. Their visit was,
perhaps, a good omen, for, on the following day, the doctor found
himself sufficiently recovered to return on board his transport. After
some buffeting by storms, and a passing ramble in St. Helena, he reached
Europe, his cravings after Eastern travel tolerably assuaged, to give
his countrymen the benefit of his notes and observations upon the fair
but feverish shores of the Indian Archipelago.