[Illustration:
SKETCH MAP OF
SARAWAK]
MY LIFE IN SARAWAK
[Illustration: H.H. THE RAJAH OF SARAWAK]
MY LIFE
IN SARAWAK
BY
THE RANEE OF SARAWAK
PREFACE BY
SIR FRANK SWETTENHAM, G.C.M.G.
GOVERNOR OF THE STRAITS COLONY
HIGH COMMISSIONER FOR THE FEDERATED MALAY STATES AND
LATE CONSUL-GENERAL FOR BORNEO
WITH TWENTY-SEVEN ILLUSTRATIONS AND A MAP
METHUEN & CO. LTD.
36 ESSEX STREET W.C.
LONDON
_First Published in 1913_
PREFACE
It is well for the Malay races of Sarawak that they should find an
advocate in their Ranee, for she loves them. To know Ranee Brooke is
to know that, and those who read her _Life in Sarawak_ will realize
this fact to the full, and will feel that, in the years she spent
with these simple people, she must have proved it to them and won
their confidence by her sympathy. That is the only way to get at the
hearts of a Malay people, and though the native population of this
section of Borneo is divided into at least two sections,--Malays and
Dyaks,--differing widely in religion, customs, and language, they are
still members of the great Malay family which is spread over the Malay
Peninsula, Sumatra, Java, Borneo, the islands of the Archipelago,
and farther afield. It is well for any of the Malay race that they
should find a sympathetic writer to tell the world something of their
little lives, for they are a silent and exclusive people. They do not
understand publicity, they do not want it, so long as they are fairly
and justly treated; indeed, superficial observers might think that
Malays do not really care how they are governed, and that it is a
matter of indifference to them whether they are treated well or ill.
Those who take the trouble to win his regard know that the Malay is as
keenly interested in his own and his country’s affairs as are those of
other nationalities. He is humble about his own capacity, and that of
his fellow-countrymen, to organize and endeavour, to frame a scheme of
righteous government and to ensue it. He will, if properly approached
and considerately handled by Europeans, be the first to admit that
they understand the business better, that they are more trustworthy in
matters of justice and money, and that they have a conception of duty,
of method, and especially a power of continuous application to work,
which is foreign and irksome--indeed well-nigh impossible--to him.
Treat him fairly, reasonably, justly, remember that he represents the
people of the country for whose benefit, as Lord Curzon of Kedleston
said, the white man is there, and, though the white man retains in his
own hands the principal offices, the real power, and the work which is
his burden, the Malay will give him admiration, gratitude, and loyal
support, and show no sign of jealousy or impatience. If one bears in
mind, as indeed one must, that the growth of the white man’s influence,
and the adoption of that advice which we say makes for good government,
mean always the lessening of the Malay’s authority and the curtailment
or abolition of his privileges,--very often bad privileges in our
opinion,--it is surely rather wonderful and rather admirable that
he should accept his fate with such a good, often even a charming,
grace. The Malay does not always approve of our methods, and sometimes
they are really indefensible, but, though he disapproves, what is he
to say? To whom is he to complain, and how? We sometimes learn his
language, because that is necessary for our benefit; we even take
trouble to inquire about his customs and other matters concerning him
and his life; but very, very rarely does he learn either our language,
or enough of our customs, to make himself heard effectively. He
realizes this better than almost any other thing, and therefore, being
a fatalist, he accepts what comes because he knows there is no other
way. Given his nature, his traditions, his way of life through all the
generations, and his present disabilities, how is he to do otherwise?
When you have handed over to others the control of everything you
once had, can you complain to them of breach of faith, or even of
little things like the neglect of your interests when they happen to
clash with your controllers’ wishes or ambitions? Western people, in
humble or subordinate positions, sometimes find it difficult to assert
themselves, or what they believe to be their rights; to the Malay it is
impossible.
That being so, one would imagine that every white man who comes into a
position of authority amongst such a people, so circumstanced, will be
doubly and trebly careful to remember that the greater his power, the
more need there is not only to seek, with single purpose, the benefit
of “the people of the country,” but to champion their cause--when
he knows it is right--against all comers, and if need be to his own
detriment. To betray Malays, is like taking a mean advantage of a
blind man who has put his hand in yours, in the firm belief that he
is safe in his blind trust of you. To take advantage of that trust
should be unthinkable. I am not writing of the customs of what is
called business, nor even of the ways of rival powers; for in both
these cases the means employed are less regarded than the end to be
gained, and success justifies all things. I am only dealing with the
mission of the white man when, for any reason whatever, he undertakes
to administer the affairs of a people who possess a possibly rich
territory, but are unskilled in the art of administration. That was
the case of Sarawak when Sir James Brooke undertook its pacification
and development in 1841. This is not the place to describe the task
set before the first white Rajah of Sarawak, but it is, I think, the
opportunity to point the moral of an achievement which probably has
no parallel. James Brooke must have been a man for whom the soft life
of cities had no attraction, but he did not approach the problem of
enforcing peace in a greatly disturbed province of Borneo as large as
England, and suppressing piracy on its coasts, in the spirit of an
adventurer; he described his objects in the following words: “It is
a grand experiment, which, if it succeeds, will bestow a blessing on
these poor people; and their children’s children shall bless me. If
it please God to permit me to give a stamp to this country which shall
last after I am no more, I shall have lived a life which emperors might
envy. If by dedicating myself to the task I am able to introduce better
customs and settled laws, and to raise the feeling of the people so
that their rights can never in future be wantonly infringed, I shall
indeed be content and happy.”
Those were his intentions, and to that end he worked for twenty-six
years with a success as remarkable as his own devotion and abnegation
of self-interest. When James Brooke died in 1868 he left to his nephew
and appointed successor, the present Rajah of Sarawak, a peaceful and
contented country, the hearts of whose people he had won by studying
them, their interests, their customs, their peculiarities, and their
happiness, and to them he gave his life and energy and everything he
possessed. It was a remarkable achievement, and he left to the country
of his adoption the “stamp” of his heart’s desire. Much more than
that, he established a precedent on which his successor has acted with
unswerving consistency for the last forty-six years; it is the stamp of
Brooke rule, and so long as it lasts all will be well with Sarawak.
Interesting and successful as were the methods of administration
introduced and established in Sarawak by Sir James Brooke and the
present Rajah, I cannot go into them. It is sufficient to say that
Sarawak has been ruled by the Brookes “for the benefit of the people
of the country,” and Mr. Alleyne Ireland, who was well qualified to
form a sound judgment, wrote in 1905, after spending two months in
travelling up and down the coast and in the interior: “I find myself
unable to express the high opinion I have formed of the administration
of the country without a fear that I shall lay myself open to the
charge of exaggeration. With such knowledge of administrative systems
in the tropics as may be gained by actual observation in almost every
part of the British Empire except the African Colonies, I can say
that in no country which I have ever visited are there to be observed
so many signs of a wise and generous rule, such abundant indications
of good government, as are to be seen on every hand in Sarawak.”
Again, in the same book, _Far Eastern Tropics_, Mr. Ireland wrote:
“The impression of the country which I carry away with me is that of
a land full of contentment and prosperity, a land in which neither
the native nor the white man has pushed his views of life to their
logical conclusion, but where each has been willing to yield to the
other something of his extreme conviction. There has been here a
tacit understanding on both sides that those qualities which alone
can ensure the _permanence_ of good government in the State are to be
found in the white man and not in the native; and the final control
remains, therefore, in European hands, although every opportunity is
taken of consulting the natives and of benefiting by their intimate
knowledge of the country and of the people.” That is high praise from
an experienced critic, but not too high, and the last words of Mr.
Ireland’s sentence cannot be insisted upon too urgently when dealing
with Malays. In Sarawak, the fact which is most striking and which
must command the admiration of every man, especially of those who have
been associated intimately with the administration of Eastern peoples
and their lands, is that throughout the long years from 1841 to the
present time, the two white Rajahs of Sarawak spent practically their
whole lives in this remote corner of Asia, devoting their best energies
to the prosperity and the happiness of their subjects, whilst taking
from the country, of which they were the absolute Rulers, only the
most modest income. That has been the admirable and unusual “stamp”
of Brooke rule: to live with the people, to make their happiness the
first consideration, and to refuse wealth at their expense. Nothing
would have been easier--certainly for the present Rajah--than to live
at ease in some pleasant Western land, with perhaps an occasional
visit to Sarawak, and to devote to his own use revenues which he has
spent for the benefit of Sarawak and its people. The State is rich
in resources, mineral and agricultural; to many it would have seemed
most natural to fill the place with Chinese or to grant concessions to
Europeans. Either of these courses would have meant a large accession
of revenue, and no one would have thought it strange had the Ruler
of the country spent whatever proportion seemed good to him on
himself. Only the people of the country would have suffered; but they,
probably, would have considered that it was perfectly natural, and,
had they thought otherwise, it would have made no difference, for it
is not their habit to complain publicly of the doings of their Rulers.
The Rajahs of Sarawak have made “the benefit of the people of the
country” the business of their lives; all honour to them for their high
purpose. That the tradition they have established by seventy-two years
of devotion, of personal care of the affairs of Sarawak, should be
continued and perpetuated must be the prayer of all who love Malays.
I make a final quotation from Mr. Ireland’s book. It is this: “Nothing
could better serve to exhibit at once the strength and the weakness of
a despotic form of government than the present condition of Sarawak,
for if it be true that the wisdom, tolerance, and sympathy of the
present Rajah have moulded the country to the extraordinary state of
tranquil prosperity which it now enjoys, the power of an unwise or
wicked ruler to throw the country back into a condition of barbarism
must be admitted as a necessary corollary. The advent of such a ruler
is, however, in the highest degree improbable.”
Every one must hope that a departure from the Brooke tradition is
impossible, and as the matter is wholly within the discretion of the
present Rajah, who knows better than anyone else what is necessary
to secure the objects set out by his predecessor, and confirmed and
secured by his own rule, there is no reason to fear for the future of
Sarawak. Any real man would be proud to take up and help to perpetuate
so great an inheritance. When the time comes, he will remember the
words of the first Rajah Brooke: “If it please God to permit me to give
a stamp to this country which shall last after I am no more, I shall
have lived a life which emperors might envy,” and he will begin his
rule with the knowledge that his predecessor spent his whole life in
making good the promise of those words.
F. A. S.
LONDON, _22nd September 1913_
INTRODUCTION
Every one has heard of Rajah Brooke. He was my husband’s uncle, and
this is how he became ruler of Sarawak.
Borneo is one of the largest islands of the world. The Dutch occupy
three parts of its territory. The British North Borneo Company, a group
of Englishmen, have established themselves in the north, and Sarawak,
with its five hundred miles of coast-line and its fifty thousand
square miles of land, is situated on the north-west. Until some four
hundred years ago, at the time of Pigafetta’s visit to Brunei, Borneo
was almost unknown to Europe, but ever since then, at various periods,
Dutch, Portuguese, and English have attempted to gain a footing in the
island. The Dutch, however, were the most successful, for it was only
in 1839 that the English obtained a firm hold of a portion of this
much disputed land. It must be remembered that owing to the murders
of Englishmen who attempted to trade with Brunei in 1788, 1803, and
1806, the Admiralty issued a warning as to the dangers attendant upon
English merchants engaging in commercial ventures with the Sultan of
Brunei and his people. About forty years went by without English
people making further attempts to trade in that part of the world,
until one day, in August 1839, James Brooke, the future white Rajah of
Sarawak, appeared upon the scene, and it was due to his bold but vague
designs that peace, prosperity, and just government were subsequently
established in a country hitherto torn with dissension and strife.
James Brooke had always felt a great interest in those lands of the
Malayan Archipelago. As a very young man he had held a commission in
the army of the British East India Company, and had seen active service
in Burmah. He was seriously wounded during the Burmese war, invalided
home, and finally resigned his commission. He then made two voyages to
the Strait Settlements and to China, and it is to be supposed that his
interest in that part of the world dates from that period of his life.
At his father’s death, he inherited a small fortune, which he invested
in the purchase of a yacht of 140 tons, in which he set sail in 1838
for the Eastern Archipelago. In those days, the Sultan of Brunei owned
the extreme north of the island, and his territory stretched as far as
what is called Cape Datu, now belonging to the Rajah. Whilst staying at
Singapore, James Brooke heard rumours of a rebellion by the Malays of
Sarawak against their Sultan, for both the Sultan and his Brunei nobles
(many of whom were of Arabic descent), in order to enrich themselves,
had instituted a tyrannous and oppressive government against the
people. When Brooke arrived in Sarawak, he made the acquaintance of
the Sultan’s Viceroy, Rajah Muda Hassim, who was an uncle of the Sultan
of Brunei, and the acknowledged heir to the Sultanate. Hence his title
Rajah Muda and Sultan Muda, meaning heir-apparent. They made friends,
when the Malay Governor confided in Brooke and besought his help in
quelling the rebellion. Brooke consented, and the rebellion was soon at
an end. The rebels, determined not to fall back under the yoke of their
former tyrants and oppressors, implored Brooke to become their Rajah
and Governor. Rajah Muda Hassim was favourable to the people’s request,
and in 1841 Brooke was proclaimed Rajah of Sarawak amidst the rejoicing
of its population. Rajah Muda Hassim, as representative of the Sultan,
signed a document resigning his title and authority to the Englishman,
and in 1842 Brooke, being desirous of obtaining from the Sultan himself
an additional proof of his goodwill towards his position in Sarawak,
visited the potentate in Brunei, when the Sultan confirmed his title as
independent Rajah of Sarawak. On the other hand, it is interesting to
realize that Rajah Muda Hassim was never in any sense Rajah of Sarawak,
that country then not being a Raj, but a simple province misruled by
Brunei Governors who never bore the title of Rajah, for after all Rajah
Muda Hassim did not abdicate in favour of Brooke, but it was the people
themselves who insisted on Sarawak being independent of the Sultan’s
and his emissaries’ authority, and chose Brooke as their own Rajah,
thus regaining their former independence.
When James Brooke first became Rajah of Sarawak in 1841, the area of
his country known as Sarawak proper comprised some seven thousand
square miles in extent.
It might be as well to give a short account of the manner in which the
first white ruler of Sarawak organized his Government. The Sarawak
Malay nobles, the Datus or chiefs that governed the State before
James Brooke’s accession to power, and who had been superseded and
driven into rebellion by the Brunei nobles, the Sultan’s emissaries,
were recalled by James Brooke and chosen to help in carrying out his
Government. When in the course of years these nobles died, their
sons or members of the same aristocratic families (but always with
the approval of the people) were, and are, chosen to fill the vacant
places. The first of these chiefs who helped to inaugurate and
establish James Brooke’s Government was a gallant Malay gentleman
called Datu Patinggi Ali, who was a direct descendant of Rajah Jarum,
the founder of Sarawak, who led his people against the oppression of
Brunei, and found death by the side of James Brooke, sword in hand,
fighting for his and his people’s cause. His son, the Datu Bandar,
Haji Bua Hassan, held office for sixty years, and died a few years ago
in Kuching, over one hundred years of age. He was a brave and upright
man; intelligent and wide-minded in Council, and a true friend of the
Rajah’s, of our sons, and of mine. Datu Isa, to whose memory I have
dedicated this book, was his wife, and I only wish it were in my power
to put into words her charming, sympathetic personality, and make it
understood how, in her blameless useful life, she set a high standard
of conduct amongst the Malay women of Kuching.
The present Datu Bandar, Muhammad Kasim, and the Datu Imaum, Haji
Muhammad Ali, are the sons of the late Datu Bandar and of Datu
Isa. These four great Malay officials are members of the Supreme
Council and assistant judges of the Supreme Court. The Datu Bandar,
premier Datu and Malay magistrate, is president of the Muhammadan
Probate Divorce Court. The Datu Imaum is the religious head of the
Muhammadan community. The Datu Tumanggong’s title, signifying that of
Commander-in-Chief or fighting Datu, is no longer employed in that
capacity, but ranks next to the Bandar as peaceful member of the
Council, whilst the Datu Hakim is adviser in Muhammadan law.
Now that a very short account has been given as to the principal
Malayan officials in Sarawak, we must turn back to the year 1841 and
take up the thread of our story. At that time the more northern rivers
outside Sarawak were infested by pirates, who, under the leadership
of Brunei nobles, devastated adjacent lands. The first Rajah, backed
by his loyal subjects, made many expeditions against these criminal
tribes. In 1849, Her Majesty’s ship _Dido_, commanded by Sir Harry
Keppel, came to his aid, when the combined forces of Malays and Dyaks,
strengthened by the crew of Her Majesty’s ship, completely scoured out
the nests of the redoubtable piratical hordes, and an end was put to
their devastation in those regions. Little by little the authority and
strength of the white Rajah’s government became acknowledged, even by
the ci-devant miscreants themselves, and the inhabitants of the more
northern rivers, realizing that after all honesty is the best policy,
willingly laid down their arms and clamoured to be enrolled in the
territory of the great white chief.
Being monarch of all he surveyed, unfettered by tradition, and owning
no obedience to the red-tapeism of Europe, Rajah Brooke laid the
foundations of one of the most original and, so far as justice goes,
successful Governments that perhaps has ever been known, its most
salient feature being that from its very beginning the natives of the
place were represented by their own people, and had the right to vote
for and against any law that was made by their Government. Brooke
established stations in the mouths of the principal rivers, and in
each of these stations were appointed one or two English officials to
represent the white ruler. Billian or iron wood forts were built in
each of these settlements, and a small force of Malays, armed with
muskets and small cannons, was placed there in order to enforce
obedience to the laws of the new Government and to inspire confidence
in its supporters. The duty of these officials, called Governors or
Residents, was to protect the people from the tyranny of some of the
higher classes of Malays, to prevent head-hunting, and to discourage
disorder. The co-operation of local chiefs and headmen was elicited
to help in this good work, and one cannot repeat too often that such
native coadjutors have been the mainstay of the Rajah’s Government,
and so they must always remain. The present Rajah and his uncle have
strictly adhered to this excellent policy of associating the natives
with the government of their country. James Brooke began his law codes
in respecting and maintaining whatever was not positively detrimental
in the laws and customs as he found them. Instead of imposing
European made laws upon the people, Muhammadan law and custom has
been maintained whenever it affects Muhammadanism. No favouritism is
allowed, and any white man infringing the laws of the country would be
treated in exactly the same way as would be the natives of the soil.
In the _Sarawak Gazette_ of 1872, the present Rajah at the beginning
of his reign wrote these words: “A Government such as that of Sarawak
may start from things as we find them, putting its veto on what is
dangerous or unjust, and supporting what is fair and equitable in the
usages of the natives, and letting system and legislation wait upon
occasion. When new wants are felt, it examines and provides for them
by measures rather made on the spot than imported from abroad; and, to
ensure that these shall not be contrary to native customs, the consent
of the people is gained for them before they are put in force. The
white man’s so-called privilege of class is made little of, and the
rulers of government are framed with greater care for the interests of
the majority who are not Europeans, than for those of the minority of
superior race.”
The Supreme Council consists of four Malay officials, together with
three or four of the principal European officers; the Rajah presides
over all its deliberations. The Malay members of the Council always
take an active and prominent part in its decisions. Every three
years a State Council meets at Kuching, under the presidency of the
Rajah, consisting of the members of the Supreme Council, the European
Residents in charge of the more important districts, and the principal
native chiefs, some seventy in number, who come from all the important
districts of the principality. At this meeting questions of general
interest as to the government of the country are discussed; the members
are informed of any recent question relating to public affairs, and are
told of the general progress achieved in the Government, or of anything
pertaining to the State since the Council’s last meeting. Each member
is formally sworn in and takes an oath of loyalty to the Rajah and his
Government. It would be very tempting to anyone who is as interested
as I am in the prosperity of the country to give more details regarding
the incessant work required in order that each law as it is made should
be satisfactory and meet the requirements of the whole of the Sarawak
people; suffice it to say that the Rajah, his English officers, and his
Malay chiefs are indefatigable in their endeavours to promote trade and
commerce, peace and prosperity amongst the people. I have only a short
space in which to speak of these more important matters, and I can only
hope that the very slight sketch I have given in the limited space
at my disposal of the past and present history of Sarawak may induce
those whom it interests to seek further information in the many volumes
that have already been written on the subject. It might perhaps not be
amiss to mention the two last books published on Sarawak, these being
_The White Rajahs of Sarawak_, by Messrs. Bampfylde and Baring-Gould,
and _The Pagan Tribes of Borneo_, by those two well-known English
scientists--Dr. Hose and Mr. McDougall. It must be remembered that Mr.
Bampfylde and Dr. Hose occupied for years very important posts in the
Rajah’s Government, and on that account their experience of the people
and the country must be invaluable.
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
H.H. THE RAJAH OF SARAWAK _Frontispiece_
FACING PAGE
THE AUTHOR 2
From a Painting by Mrs. ALFRED SOTHEBY
THE RAJAH’S ARRIVAL AT ASTANA, AFTER A VISIT TO EUROPE 8
PART OF DATU BAY, NEAR SANTUBONG 14
A ROOM IN THE ASTANA 22
DATU ISA AND HER GRANDDAUGHTERS 26
SEA-DYAKS IN WAR DRESS 34
SEA-DYAK WOMAN WEAVING A COTTON PETTICOAT 58
MAIL STEAMERS’ WHARF AND TRADING VESSELS AT ANCHOR,
NEAR EMBANKMENT IN KUCHING BAZAAR 62
TUAN MUDA OF SARAWAK ⎫
H.H. THE RAJAH MUDA OF SARAWAK ⎬ 98
TUAN BUNGSU OF SARAWAK WITH HIS LITTLE SON, JIMMIE BROOKE ⎭
THE DAIANG MUDA ⎫
H.H. THE RANEE MUDA ⎬ 102
THE DAIANG BUNGSU ⎭
THE AUTHOR AND IMA, IN THE MORNING ROOM AT ASTANA,
KUCHING 136
SUN SETTING BEHIND THE MOUNTAIN OF MATANG 150
DAIANG SAHADA, DAIANG LEHUT, MRS. MAXWELL, AND THE
AUTHOR 158
VERANDAH IN DAIANG SAHADA’S HOUSE AT KUCHING 164
DAIANG LEHUT, DAIANG SAHADA’S DAUGHTER 166
INCHI BAKAR, SCHOOL MASTER, KUCHING 174
MALAY BOY STRIKING FIRE FROM DRY TINDER 200
SALLEH, A TANJONG CHIEF, PLAYING ON THE NOSE FLUTE,
WITH TWO TANJONG ATTENDANTS 254
HUT CONTAINING EATABLES TO REFRESH THE GOD OF SICKNESS,
BATANG LUPAR RIVER 260
PANAU, A SEA-DYAK CHIEF 282
AN ENCAMPMENT UP THE BATANG LUPAR RIVER 288
BACHELOR HOUSE AT MUNGGO BABI, BERTRAM’S RESIDENCE
DURING OUR STAY 298
MAP _Front Cover_
MY LIFE IN SARAWAK
CHAPTER I
When I remember Sarawak, its remoteness, the dreamy loveliness of its
landscape, the childlike confidence its people have in their rulers, I
long to take the first ship back to it, never to leave it again. How it
happened that as a young English girl I came into intimate contact with
the people of Sarawak is as follows: In 1868, on the death of the first
English Rajah of Sarawak, his nephew and successor came to England and
visited my mother, who was his cousin. On his return to Borneo in the
early seventies, I accompanied him as his wife.
Looking over the diaries I kept in those days, they throw little light
upon the new surroundings in which I found myself. I had received the
limited education given to girls in that mid-Victorian period; I had
been taught music, dancing, and could speak two or three European
languages; but as regards the important things in life, these had never
been thought of consequence to my education.
I was sea-sick almost the whole way from Marseilles to Singapore, so
that when we stayed at the various ports on our way out--Aden, Ceylon,
Penang, etc.--I was much too ill to take any interest in them. I
remember that in Singapore we received invitations from the Governor
and from the residents of the place to stay with them on our way to
Sarawak; but I felt ill, and the Rajah and I thought it best to take up
our quarters at an hotel. However, we dined with the Governor and his
wife, Sir Harry and Lady Ord, and I do not think I had ever met kinder
people. The Chief Justice and his wife, Sir Benson and Lady Maxwell,
were also charming to us, asking us to spend a day with them at their
country house near Singapore. This we did, and it was all delightful
and lovely, barring the fact that I met none of the Singapore natives
on these occasions.
It was at Singapore that I first tasted tropical fruits--mangoes,
mangosteens, a fruit called the soursop, tasting like cotton wool
dipped in vinegar and sugar; also many other kinds--all of which, under
the distempered state of my mind, owing to the journey, I thought
positively repulsive. As to the delights of first impressions in the
tropics, I must say I did not share in those feelings. I hated the
heat, the damp clammy feel of those equatorial regions, and I then
thought that I should never find happiness in such countries.
[Illustration: THE AUTHOR
FROM A PAINTING BY MRS. ALFRED SOTHEBY]
After a few days spent in Singapore, we embarked in the Rajah’s
yacht, the _Heartsease_. She was a wooden gunboat of 250 tons, and
her admirers had told me she was as lively as a duck in the water.
This behaviour on her part was exceedingly annoying to me during the
passage to Kuching, a journey which took two days. It was on board the
_Heartsease_ that I had my first experience of cockroaches and rats,
and these kept me in a perpetual state of terror at night. Cockroaches
are like black beetles, only much larger, flatter, and tawny brown in
colour. At the approach of rain they are particularly lively, and as
rain falls daily in this region, their habits are offensive to human
beings. They fly or spring from great distances, and alight on their
victims. I remember how they startled me by jumping on to my face, arms
and hands, as I lay in my bunk trying to get to sleep. The tiny prick
of their spiky, spindly legs was a hateful experience.
Every one must be familiar with rats more or less at a distance, but
the _Heartsease’s_ rats were disconcertingly friendly. They glided up
and down the floor of my cabin, sometimes scratching at my pillow,
which did not add to my comfort.
It was on the third morning after leaving Singapore, that I suddenly
felt the ship moving in absolutely smooth waters. This encouraged me to
crawl up on deck, and look around me at the scenery. It was the most
beautiful I had ever seen. The tide was on the turn, and the morning
mist was still hanging about the watery forests on the banks and about
the high mountains of the interior, and as it swept across the river it
brought with it that curious, sweet, indefinable smell, half-aromatic
and half-sickly, making one think unaccountably of malaria. I remember
that I felt very cold, for everything I touched was dripping with
dew. I could see the high mountain of Santubong, a great green cliff
rising almost out of the water to a height of about three thousand
feet, covered to its summit with luxuriant forests. At the foot of
the mountain was a great expanse of sand, over which enormous brown
boulders were scattered, as though giants had been disturbed at a game
of ninepins. At the back of the sandy shore grew groves of Casuarina
trees (the natives call them “talking trees,” from the sound they make
when a breeze stirs their lace-like branches), looking as though the
slightest puff might blow them all away in clouds of dark green smoke.
Brown huts, made of dried palm leaves and built on poles, dotted the
beach, and small canoes tethered to the shore held little brown naked
children, playing and baling out the water. Women were washing clothes
on the river-banks. They were clothed in one long, clinging garment,
folded and tucked under their armpits, and their straight, long, black
hair was drawn into huge knots at the nape of their necks. All this I
saw as in a vision; the people were too far off for me to distinguish
their features, and the incoming tide was carrying us up the river at a
swift pace.
Here and there, on our way up, we met Chinamen standing in the stern of
swift, small, narrow canoes, propelling their boats gondolier fashion,
with cargoes of fish for the Kuching market. We passed boats of all
sorts and sizes, from the small sampan scooped out of a single tree
trunk, with its solitary paddler, to the larger house-boats belonging
to Malays, filled with women and children. These were roofed in to
shelter their inmates from the rain or sun, and were usually propelled
by old men sitting in the bows cross-legged, wearing dirty white cotton
drawers and jauntily placed conical hats, which sometimes allowed the
folds of turbans to be seen, these showing that the wearers had been to
Mecca. My attention was attracted by one very small canoe, for I saw,
sitting amidships, an old woman huddled up in a cotton scarf. A tiny
boy, perfectly naked, was bravely paddling her along, whilst he shouted
insults to his poor old lady passenger as our steamer passed by.
It was on this morning also, that I made the acquaintance of the Malay
crew of our yacht. Like all people suddenly finding themselves for the
first time in the midst of an alien race, I thought the sailors all
looked alike. I elicited from the Rajah that some were young and some
were old, but whether aged eighteen or fifty, I could see no difference
in them at all. They all had the same almost bridgeless noses, wide
nostrils, thick lips, dark restless eyes, and the lanky hair belonging
to their Mongolian race. I tried to make up to them in a feeble way;
I looked at them and smiled as they went to and fro, but they only
bent double as they passed, paying no more attention to my friendly
advances than they did to my cane chair. They were the gentlest moving
things I had ever seen; yet apparently, their work did not suffer, for
I was told that they were as efficient as any ordinary European crew.
The Rajah was accompanied on the occasion by one of his officers who
had come to meet us at Singapore. As we three sat on deck, I thought
they were the most silent pair I had ever come across. I wanted to know
about the country, and asked questions, but no satisfactory answer
could be obtained, and I was gently made to understand that I had
better find things out for myself. I wanted to know about the mangroves
which grew in the mud, and which at high tide stand “knee-deep in the
flood.” I wanted to know about those great forests of nipa palms,
like gigantic hearse plumes, fringing the river-banks, and from which
I had been told in Singapore that sixteen different and most useful
products to commerce could be obtained. I wanted to know the names of
long, slender palms towering over the other vegetation farther inland,
whose glossy fronds swaying in the morning breeze looked like green and
graceful diadems. Then I saw great things like logs of wood lying on
the mud, and when these moved, and went with a sickening flop into the
water, I had to find out for myself that they were the first crocodiles
of my acquaintance. I saw the black and mobile faces of monkeys peering
at us from between the branches overhanging the water, grimacing like
angry old men at our intrusion into their solitude, and to my inquiry
as to what kind of monkeys they were, the usual indifferent answer
was given. I remember trying to make friends with the English officer
from Sarawak, with the object of eliciting from him some facts about
the place, but my questions did not meet with any very interesting
responses, and I soon found out that I should have to make my own
discoveries about the country, and from that moment I simply panted
to understand the Malay language and make friends with the people
belonging to the place.
Although here and there we met a few boats coming up the river, some of
the reaches were deserted and silent as the grave. I was exceedingly
lonely, and felt as though I had fallen into a phantom land, in the
midst of a lost and silent world. But even in such out-of-the-way
places people have to be fed, and I remember my first meal in Sarawak,
brought to me by the Chinese steward. There were captain’s biscuits,
lumps of tinned butter slipping about the plate like oil, one boiled
egg which had seen its best days, and the cup of Chinese tea, innocent
of milk, which the Rajah and his friend seemed to enjoy, but which I
thought extremely nasty. The quiet, matter-of-fact way in which they
participated in this unpalatable meal surprised me, but I thought that
perhaps I, too, might in time look upon such things as mere trifles.
At last, after steaming in silence for about two and a half hours up
the Sarawak River, I heard the booming of guns--the salute fired to the
Rajah on his return from England--and rounding the last reach leading
up to Kuching, the capital, I saw the Fort on the right-hand bank on a
hill covered with closely cropped grass. I also saw the flagstaff from
which was flying the Sarawak flag. On the opposite bank to where the
Fort was situated stood a bungalow, rather a homely looking house, with
gables and green-and-white blinds, the sight of which comforted me. I
was told that this was the house of the agent of the Borneo Company,
Ltd. This gives me an opportunity of acknowledging, at the outset of my
book, the loyal, and at the same time civilizing influence which this
group of Scotchmen, members of the firm, have always exerted in their
dealings with Sarawak and its people. This house once out of sight,
we steamed on past the Bazaar on the river’s edge, containing the
principal shops of the town, and, a little farther on, the same side as
the Fort, I saw the Astana,[1] composed of three long low bungalows,
roofed with wooden shingles, built on brick pillars with a castellated
tower forming the entrance.
[Illustration: THE RAJAH’S ARRIVAL AT ASTANA AFTER A VISIT TO EUROPE]
On the steps of the landing-stage at the bottom of the garden a great
many people were standing. These were the officials, English and
native, and the principal merchants of the place come to meet the
Rajah on his return. I saw four Malay chiefs, and was told that they
were prominent members in the Rajah’s Government. They wore turbans
twisted in great folds round their heads, long flowing robes of black
or dark-coloured cloth opening on to white robes embroidered with gold.
Their feet were shod with sandals, and they carried long staves tipped
with great golden knobs. Then I saw Chinamen, traders in the town,
with their long pigtails, almond-shaped eyes, fat, comfortable-looking
faces, all smiles, dressed in blue silk jackets and wide black
trousers. There were also a few Dyak chiefs of neighbouring rivers,
with beads and bangles on their legs and arms, and gaily coloured
waistcloths of red and yellow and white. I saw about eight or ten
Europeans in white uniforms and helmets, and two ladies, also dressed
in white, the only European ladies then resident in the place.
As the _Heartsease’s_ anchor was dropped, a large green barge,[2] used
on State occasions, covered with an awning and manned by about twenty
Malays and Dyaks in white uniforms faced with black, their paddles
painted in the Sarawak colours--yellow, black, and red--came to the
companion-ladder to take us on shore. I remember the rhythmical noise
made by their paddles as they rowed us the short distance to the
landing-stage. When we stepped on land, all the people came forward and
shook hands with the Rajah, who presented them to me. It took about ten
to fifteen minutes to shake hands with them all.
Then a strange thing happened, for which I was not prepared. A very
picturesque old man, rather taller than the other Malays, dressed in
a jacket embroidered with gold, black trousers with a gold band, his
head enveloped in a handkerchief tied in a jaunty fashion, with two
ends standing up over his left ear, came forward with a large yellow
satin umbrella, fringed all round, which he opened with great solemnity
and held over the Rajah’s head. His name was Subu, and, as I learned,
he occupied a great position in Sarawak: that of Umbrella Bearer to
the Rajah and Executioner to the State. The Rajah trudged forward,
the umbrella held over him, up the steps from the landing-place, and
across the broad gravel path, lined with a guard of honour, leading
to the house. At the entrance the umbrella was folded up with great
reverence by Subu, who carried IT back to ITS home the other side of
the river. I followed with the principal European officer present, and
the other people who had met us came after us, up the path, and on to
the verandah of the Astana. There we seated ourselves on cane chairs
prepared for the occasion: the Rajah and myself in the middle of the
company. For some minutes we all looked at one another in dead silence:
then the oldest Malay chief present, the Datu Bandar, leaning forward
with his head on one side and an intent expression, inquired, “Tuan
Rajah baik?” (Rajah well?). The Rajah nodded assent. Then more silence:
suddenly, the Rajah jumped up and held out his hand as a signal of
dismissal. Every one took the hint, got up, shook hands with the Rajah,
then with me, and departed down the steps and garden path to the boats
waiting to convey them to their homes.
I stood on the verandah and watched them go, the Rajah standing by
me. I turned to him. “Where are the women?” I said. “What women?” he
answered. “The only English ladies staying in the place came to meet
you.” “Oh,” I replied, “they do not matter. I mean the women of the
place, where are they?--the chiefs’ wives and the Malay women, why have
they not come to meet me?” “Malay women,” replied the Rajah, “never
accompany the men on public occasions. It is not their custom.” “But,”
I said, “you are their Rajah. What is the use of my coming here if I
am not to see the women of the place?” “Well,” said the Rajah, with a
smile, “we shall see; things may be different by and by.”
In the evening the Rajah took me in his comfortable boat for a turn on
the river. Three Malay boat-boys sent us along; their paddles as they
struck the water were as rhythmic as a march tune. We floated past the
Malay portion of the town with its brown houses made of palm leaves,
their roofs and walls so frail that “you might anywhere break them open
with your finger!” Moving westwards we faced the great mountain called
Matang, which bars the sunset, its wooded sides and ravines changing
every moment of the day under the brilliant sunlight or passing clouds.
The sunset behind Matang on that first evening I spent in Kuching was
a memorable one. The dark purple mass seemed palpitating with mystery,
standing out as it did against a background of crimson and rose and
yellow.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Malay word meaning palace.
[2] The barge was presented by the King of Siam to the late
Rajah in 1851.