SIR THOMAS COCHRANE IN BRUNEI—ATTACK ON SHERIF OSMAN—MUDA HASSIM
IN POWER—LINGIRE’S ATTEMPT TO TAKE RAJAH BROOKE’S HEAD—MASSACRE
OF MUDA HASSIM AND BUDRUDIN—THE ADMIRAL PROCEEDS TO BRUNEI—TREATY
WITH BRUNEI—ACTION WITH PIRATE SQUADRON—RAJAH BROOKE IN
ENGLAND—IS KNIGHTED ON HIS RETURN TO THE EAST—VISITS THE SULU
ISLANDS—EXPEDITION AGAINST SERIBAS PIRATES
Hearing that Admiral Sir Thomas Cochrane was expected in Singapore,
the English Rajah determined to proceed there to explain to him the
true position of affairs on the north-west coast of Borneo. He found
the admiral ready to take measures to suppress piracy, and the Rajah
left with the impression that he would act against the great pirate
chief, Sherif Osman. In the meantime, he returned himself to Brunei
in the _Phlegethon_ to find his Bornean friends very despondent.
However, in August the admiral appeared, and at the invitation of the
Sultan attacked Pangeran Usop for holding two British subjects in
slavery. This noble and his followers fled to the hills. Sir Thomas
then proceeded to Marudu Bay to chastise Sherif Osman, the most
notorious pirate chief in the Archipelago. His place of residence,
up a narrow river, was carefully fortified with an extra strong boom
across the stream. A very powerful expedition was sent up from the
fleet. In attempting to force their way through the well-prepared
obstructions our men were exposed to a murderous fire from the forts,
and we lost heavily; but the town was taken and burnt. I visited the
place afterwards, and was somewhat surprised that a detachment was
not landed below the boom and the position turned; but we always like
to take the bull by the horns. The pirates suffered severely. Sherif
Osman was mortally wounded and died shortly afterwards, and Marudu
ceased for a time to be a pirate rendezvous.
Returning to Brunei with the good news, Brooke was delighted to
hear that his friend Budrudin had defeated Usop, who, with a force
from the hills, had come down to surprise the town, and had driven
him away from the neighbourhood of the capital. He was some time
afterwards taken at a place called Kimanis, and by order of the
Sultan was strangled with all the formalities due to a person who had
royal blood in his veins. Thus Muda Hassim’s power appeared securely
established. His enemies without and within had been defeated, and
his warlike brother, Lanun, on the mother’s side—which accounted for
his unusual daring—was at the head of a strong party. The English
Rajah felt that they were comparatively safe; yet he had his secret
misgivings, and tried in vain to persuade the admiral to station a
brig on the coast.
Captain Bethune now returned to England to make his report to the
British Government, and Brooke was left to a welcome repose—doubly
welcome after all the exertions of the previous months.
It was during the summer of this year that a very curious episode
occurred. Whilst the Rajah was at dinner with his English followers
in the new house to which I have already referred, and which had
been constructed some distance below the Malay town, Lingire, the
well-known pirate chief, walked into the dining-hall, followed by a
large party of his warriors. As they were all fully armed, the Rajah
saw at once that mischief was meant. He received the chief most
courteously. A chair was given him, and all the other Dyaks squatted
down on the floor round the table. Cigars were handed round, and then
the Rajah asked what was the news. Lingire answered that they had
just pulled up the river to pay him a visit.
The Rajah called up a very intelligent native servant and said to him
in English, ‘Bring me another bottle of sherry,’ and then added in a
careless voice, ‘Let the Malay chiefs know who are here.’ The servant
duly brought in the wine and then retired. Whilst the Seribas
chief was drinking his sherry, the Rajah exerted himself to the
utmost to entertain him—told him story after story, got the Dyak to
relate instances of his own prowess. His vanity was so tickled that,
forgetting the object of his visit, he dilated on his forays into the
Dutch territories, where he had surprised the Chinese settlers. ‘They
won’t fight, those cowards,’ he said. ‘They run away from an armed
man, or drop on their knees and beg for mercy.’ The Rajah encouraged
him to continue, but time and the Datus moved slowly, and he could
see the Dyaks exchanging glances, as if to say the moment had arrived
for action. In another minute they would have been on their feet and
the unarmed Englishmen slain, when footsteps were heard on the gravel
walk. Lingire looked anxious as the powerful form of the Datu Patingi
appeared in the verandah, which was soon crowded with armed Malays.
The Datu Tumangong soon followed, and the Dyaks were surrounded.
They did not move—a move would have sealed their fate. The Datus
threatened and scolded them to their hearts’ content, asked how they
had dared to enter the Rajah’s house with arms in their hands, and
had not the white chief interfered the Malays would have executed
summary justice on the rascals.
The Rajah then spoke. He said he knew very well that Lingire had come
to surprise them, but he would not have it said that anyone who came
to his country should be in fear of death, however much he merited
it, that he would forgive him, and he might go. At a sign from the
Rajah the Malays opened their serried ranks, and Lingire and his
followers crept out like whipped curs and disappeared from the river.
Years after I saw Lingire sitting on a chair beside the Rajah, but I
do not think he ever confessed to us that his design had been to kill
the white men, though it was well known that he came for no other
purpose. He had, in fact, boasted that he would take the Rajah’s head
and hang it up in a basket which he had already prepared and placed
in a tree near his village. Had he attacked the Rajah the moment he
entered the room nothing could have saved the Englishmen, as they
were quite defenceless; and he could have done it with impunity, as
no Malay war boat could have overtaken a Dyak bangkong. This is but a
specimen of the Rajah’s marvellous escapes. I had the above account
from his cousin, Arthur Crookshank.
The year 1846 opened satisfactorily. The attack on the pirate haunts
at Marudu, the punishment and the subsequent death of Pangeran Usop,
rendered the position of Muda Hassim stronger, and the strict watch
kept on the Seribas and Sakarangs during 1845 had prevented any
marauding on their part. Whilst peace appeared now to be established
both at home and abroad, the Rajah was again troubled by the action
of his agent Wise. This clever but unscrupulous man kept writing
that he would make Brooke the richest commoner in England if he
would give him a free hand; and, in fact, without waiting for any
permission, he began to project large associations which were to take
over the country of Sarawak and rival the old East India Company in
wealth and power. When Brooke understood what his agent was doing,
he wrote that he would be no party to such schemes, and that he
would not surrender Sarawak to the tender mercies of a mercantile
association.
I first made the acquaintance of Mr Wise in 1846, and I well remember
how lavish he was in the praise of Brooke, and what hopes he
entertained of the success of an all-absorbing company. But as time
passed his enthusiasm for his friend and employer gradually lessened,
till the result was an open rupture. To this I must refer hereafter.
1846, which opened under the finest auspices, soon however changed
its aspect. News came of marauding on the part of the Sakarang Dyaks;
but this was trifling to what followed. H.M.S. _Hazard_, Commander
Egerton, had been sent by the admiral to Brunei to communicate
with Rajah Muda Hassim. As soon as the ship anchored at the mouth
of the Brunei river, a native hurried on board, and by signs made
the officers understand that some great calamity had occurred at
the capital, while he appeared to warn Egerton not to proceed up
the river. Fortunately his warning was attended to; and as he kept
repeating in Malay, ‘Tuan Brooke’ and ‘Sarawak,’ the _Hazard_
weighed anchor and proceeded to that place. The Malay brought serious
news indeed. The Sultan had ordered the murder of Muda Hassim,
Budrudin and the rest of the legitimate royal family, and had
succeeded in destroying the most important chiefs. These were his own
uncles and cousins.
A conspiracy seems to have been hatched among the Sultan’s followers,
who were the friends and associates of the late Pangeran Usop, to
kill Muda Hassim and his family, not only for the sake of revenge,
but to prevent them gaining a preponderating influence in the
country. Already the people were looking to them as the rising
power, and the Sultan’s prestige was visibly declining. Besides,
with their increasing influence they were acquiring too many of the
profits which used to accrue to the Sultan’s _entourage_. As the
representatives of the party which preferred the old methods of
government, the latter disliked the alliance which was springing up
between this branch of the royal family and the Rajah of Sarawak,
as the representative of the English, and therefore they found no
difficulty in persuading the half-imbecile Sultan that his immediate
deposition was meditated. He therefore gave the order that Muda
Hassim and his family should be attacked and killed. Though warned
that some conspiracy was brewing, they took no heed, lulled in
fancied security, and were easily surprised. Muda Hassim defended
his home with a few followers, but finding that they would soon be
overpowered, shot himself so as not to fall into the hands of his
enemies.
Pangeran Budrudin was attacked at the same time. Brooke wrote to
Keppel, on April 5th 1846, ‘After fighting desperately and cutting
down several of the Sultan’s hired assassins, he was shot in his left
wrist, his shoulder and chest were cut open so as to disable his
right arm. A woman, by name Nur Salum, fought and was wounded by his
side. His sister and a slave boy called Jaffir, though both wounded,
remained by him, the rest of his few followers having been cut down
or having fled. The four retired into the house and barred the door.
Budrudin, wounded and bleeding, ordered the boy to get down a cask of
powder, break in the head and scatter it in a small circle. He then
told Jaffir to escape, gave him my signet ring, of which I had made
him a present, and told him to beg me not to forget him and to tell
the Queen of England of his fate. He then called the women to him,
and when the boy had dropped through the flooring into the water,
fired the powder, and all three were blown into the air.’ No hero
could have died more nobly, and what fine creatures must those women
have been!
No natives ever appear to consider or to care for the consequences of
their acts until the acts are done. They are blinded by their hate;
but no sooner had the conspirators murdered the principal members of
the royal family than they began to tremble for the future. They knew
the friendship which united the English Rajah to Pangeran Budrudin,
and began to reflect that he would spare no pains to punish them.
With the death of this brave pangeran all hopes of regenerating the
Government of Brunei vanished.
At that time we had in the East an admiral who dared to act—Sir
Thomas Cochrane. When he heard of the massacre he determined to
proceed to Brunei to inquire what was the meaning of these violent
measures. He rightly argued that the massacre did not directly
concern England, unless the Sultan was about to repudiate all his
engagements with us. On his way he called in at Sarawak to see
Brooke, and to ask him, as the British Government’s confidential
agent, to accompany the expedition.
The squadron arrived off the Brunei river on the 6th June, and Sir
Thomas immediately sent a message to the Sultan, saying he was about
to visit the capital and desired an interview with His Highness. Some
messengers of inferior rank brought down the reply that the admiral
might ascend the river in two small boats. No notice was taken of
this restriction, and the steamers, with the smaller vessels in tow,
and accompanied by the boats of the squadron, began to ascend the
river. As they neared the capital they were received with volleys
from every battery; but the marines and blue-jackets were soon on
shore, and the defenders fled in haste. On entering the central
canal of Brunei, a battery at the Sultan’s Palace opened fire, which
did considerable damage to the _Phlegethon_. There was no serious
resistance, however, and when the force took possession of the
town they found it completely deserted. The Sultan escaped to the
interior, and the party sent to capture him naturally failed in their
object.
A provisional government was established under Pangeran Mumein,
a respectable noble, not of royal descent, and Pangeran Mahomed,
a brother of Muda Hassim, but not of much intelligence; then a
proclamation was issued, saying that the Sultan might return to his
capital if he were prepared to fulfil his engagements.
Nothing ever raised the prestige of the English so much as the
capture of Brunei. As a military feat of arms it was of no
importance, but to the tribes of the interior it was looked upon as
a marvel of heroism. They naturally thought Brunei to be the only
great power on earth, so that when they heard that the English had
taken their capital, they rejoiced that their oppressors had received
such a lesson. Cautiously looking around to see that no Malay was
present, they would laughingly tell how they had seen the Sultan and
his nobles flying through the jungle with the English at their heels,
and ask why having once taken the country we did not keep it. These
or similar inquiries were made wherever I travelled in the interior.
Sir Thomas Cochrane, having seen the establishment of the provisional
government, sailed for China; but during his passage up the
north-west coast of Borneo destroyed several pirate communities,
and, leaving Captain Mundy of H.M.S. _Iris_ to complete the work,
proceeded to Hong Kong.
When Brooke returned to Sarawak he was indeed received as the
‘Conquering Hero.’ The Malays there were very much like the tribes
of the interior, thoroughly imbued with the idea that the Sultan of
Brunei was a great monarch, second to none; and therefore the news
that the capital had been taken and that the Sultan had fled to the
woods was a complete surprise; but the surprise was only equalled by
the pleasure it gave, as the Brunei Government was unpopular to the
last degree, indeed hated for its oppression.
While in Brunei Brooke collected those of the families of Muda Hassim
and his brothers who wished to be removed from the capital, and
brought them down to Sarawak, where for years they were supported by
him.
1846 closed, as it had begun, with every sign of prosperity. There
was peace in all the neighbouring districts, and the native trade on
the coast was considered to be very flourishing. Kuching, the capital
of Sarawak, was continually increasing, as the natives removed to
it from the less secure rivers, and there was every hope that the
British Government would now really make an effort to develop the
coast. They had decided to occupy the island of Labuan and establish
a commercial settlement there, and this, it was expected, would lead
to a more forward policy.
Having received instructions from Her Majesty’s Government, Brooke,
in May 1847, proceeded to Brunei to negotiate a treaty with the
Sultan, which should not only regulate the trade relations between
the two countries, but should contain a clause declaring that British
subjects committing offences within His Highness’s dominions might
only be tried by Her Majesty’s representative. The treaty was signed,
and then Brooke left on board the Company’s steamer _Nemesis_,
Captain Wallace, who was on his way to Singapore. When they arrived
near the mouth of the Brunei river they were hailed by a native prahu
and were informed that a Balignini pirate squadron was outside,
capturing fishing and trading boats. As soon as the _Nemesis_ rounded
the sandy point of the island of Muara they saw eleven Balignini
prahus in full chase of a native vessel, but as soon as the steamer
appeared the pirates turned towards the shore, and finding escape
hopeless, pulled into a shallow bay, anchored their vessels, bows
seaward, and all kept in position by hawsers connecting the prahus to
each other. The steamer arrived, when the pirates immediately opened
fire on her, and after rather a prolonged action they cut their
cables. Some prahus pulled away to the north, others to the south,
while the remainder were deserted by their crews. It is needless to
enter into details, but it may be mentioned that in all the vessels
taken were found crowds of captives, principally from the Dutch
possessions. None of the prahus made the Balignini Islands, as the
three that escaped the steamer were so riddled with shot that the
crews had to take to their boats, and after a painful voyage at last
reached home. The pirates of the eight other prahus were forced to
seek refuge on shore, and after committing some murders and other
excesses, were surrounded, and then they surrendered to the Sultan,
who had them all put to death.
Peace being established along the north-west coast by the energetic
action of Sir Thomas Cochrane and the wise policy of Brooke, the
latter decided to visit England after an absence of nearly nine
years. He knew that the action with the Balignini would deter those
pirates from visiting the coast for some time; he was satisfied
that the Brunei Government could do no mischief; the Dyak pirates
were still under the influence of the punishment they had received,
and Sarawak was prosperous and safe. So leaving his cousin, Arthur
Crookshank, in charge, he started for England, where he was sure to
be well received, as Captain Keppel’s successful _Voyage of the Dido_
had made the ruler of Sarawak well known to all Englishmen.
After a tedious voyage Brooke landed in England on October 2nd, and
was soon surrounded by friends and relations. The Queen received him
at Windsor Castle, and he was so fêted by all that he had but little
time left to transact business. Brooke could not but feel that his
countrymen fully appreciated the services he had rendered to England.
He was presented with the freedom of the City of London, many clubs
elected him a member by special vote, Oxford honoured him with her
distinctions. The undergraduates went wild with enthusiasm at the
mention of his name, for he was pre-eminently a leader to create that
feeling among young men. He made friendships, which were lifelong,
with Earl Grey and the Earl of Ellesmere.
Mr Wise gave him a grand dinner, and there delivered a speech
which was an unqualified eulogium on his employer; it was not only
eulogistic, it was fulsome in his praise. I remember well all the
circumstances, and they are important; they impressed themselves
deeply in my mind. My father, who was present at this dinner, when he
came home, said to me, ‘I cannot understand Wise. He has just made a
speech in which he has declared that Brooke is one of the greatest
and best of men, whilst privately he tells me he is a robber and a
murderer.’ On my father asking for an explanation, Mr Wise excused
himself, saying that it was the necessity of his position which
forced him to dissemble.
Brooke, who before he left Borneo had been named Commissioner
and Consul-General, was now called upon to accept the position of
Governor of the new settlement of Labuan, and was placed at the head
of an efficient staff. I was appointed secretary to the Rajah, as
Commissioner, and was thus brought into the closest relations to
him. We were all ordered to hold ourselves in readiness to proceed
to Borneo in H.M.’s frigate _Meander_, Captain Keppel, on the 1st
February 1848.
How high were our hopes when we sailed from Portsmouth! They nearly
made us forget the discomforts of our position on board—discomforts
almost inseparable from an attempt to turn a ship of war into a
passenger vessel. Our progress appeared to us slow, first from very
stormy weather, and then from incessant calms.
The _Meander_, though of forty-four guns, was but a second-rate
frigate; she had, however, a picked crew, whom the fame of her
captain had induced to join; she was fitted with special boats
for river service, as she was intended to act against the pirate
communities. I need not dwell on the details of this voyage, but
I must introduce an anecdote related by Sir Hugh Low of his great
chief. ‘No circumstances, however unexpected, flurried him.... I
was once a passenger with him in a large man-of-war. His cabin was
on the port side of the vessel, and he was sitting in an arm-chair
which leant against the bulkhead. I was stretched on a locker on the
opposite side of the cabin, and there being a fresh breeze the ship
was heeling over to starboard, when we felt a sudden increase in the
lurch, which threw me headlong against the lee bulkhead, the Rajah’s
chair being tilted up so that his feet were in the air. I attempted
to crawl towards the door, when the Rajah, who had been reading,
asked me where I was going. I said, “I am going to see what is the
matter; the vessel is capsizing.” He replied, “You have nothing to do
with it; you are only a passenger. Stay where you are.” The danger
was averted by the promptness of the carpenter, who with one stroke
of his sharp axe severed the main brace, and the vessel immediately
righted itself.’
We were all glad to reach Singapore, for although the officers did
their utmost to make us comfortable, it was not possible that much
success could attend their efforts. I daresay they were as pleased to
see us land as we were to find ourselves on shore. One thing I may
mention, however; the gun-room officers pressed me to remain with
them instead of facing the expense and discomforts of a Singapore
hotel; but I could not avail myself of their kindness as I had my
secretary’s duties to perform.
About three weeks after our arrival, the surveyor, the late Mr Scott,
afterwards Sir John Scott, and Captain Hoskins, harbour-master,
were sent ahead to prepare the necessary buildings for the officers
that were to follow. This was our first mistake. Neither of these
gentlemen knew anything about tropical countries, nor even the
language of Borneo, and fixed the site of the settlement on a
grassy plain, that turned into a swamp as soon as the rainy season
commenced. Had the Lieutenant-Governor, Mr Napier, been sent ahead,
or had Mr Low (now Sir Hugh Low), the Colonial Secretary, accompanied
the advance party, their special knowledge of the Tropics would have
saved us the consequences of this disastrous error. After a long and
apparently unnecessary delay of three months and a half at Singapore,
we sailed in the _Meander_ for Sarawak. Before our departure,
however, news arrived that Her Majesty had been pleased to name
Mr Brooke a K.C.B., and he was duly installed before we left that
British settlement.
On September 4, 1848, the _Meander_ anchored off the Muaratabas
entrance of the Sarawak river, and the reception accorded to their
Rajah by the native inhabitants made a deep impression, not only on
me, but on all who witnessed it. The whole population turned out to
meet him, and the river, as far as the eye could reach, was thronged
with boats. Everything that could float was put into requisition—the
trading vessels, the war boats carrying their crews of a hundred, a
few unwieldy Chinese junks, and every canoe in the capital. All were
gaily dressed, and the chiefs crowded on board the frigate. At 1 p.m.
we left under a royal salute, with yards manned and hearty cheers
from the crew, and started for a six hours’ pull to the capital. We
arrived after sunset and found every house brilliantly illuminated.
The Rajah’s reception at Government House, where all the English were
assembled, was naturally very hearty, and soon the whole place was
crowded with natives.
Finding that during his absence the piratical tribes had recommenced
their raids on the neighbouring towns, the Rajah thought of forming
a league of the well-disposed districts, and therefore introduced a
flag, which was not only a Sarawak flag, but might be used by any
member of the league. This flag was hoisted, with great ceremony, on
the staff in front of the Government House, and it is now used along
the whole coast as far as, and in a place or two beyond, the Sultan’s
capital.
About this time a mission, under the auspices of the Church of
England, was established in Sarawak, and great hopes were entertained
of its success.
I may as well mention who were the members of the Rajah’s staff.
While we were at Kuching, his nephew, Captain Brooke of the 88th,
joined him as A.D.C., but as he was to be the Rajah’s heir in Sarawak
it was thought he would soon retire from the army; then Arthur
Crookshank, who had hitherto represented him in Borneo; Charles
Grant, his private secretary; Brereton, at that moment unattached;
and myself, secretary to the Commissioner.
In the first days of October we embarked on board the _Meander_
and sailed for Labuan, where we arrived on the 7th. Labuan lies,
as I have stated, off a large bay, into which flow the Brunei, the
Limbang, the Trusan, and many other rivers, and seemed well adapted
for a commercial and naval station. It has a fine harbour and plenty
of coal, and as we arrived on a bright day, the place looked very
attractive. A broad grassy plain, which skirted the harbour, was
about three quarters of a mile deep, then it met the low hills and
thick jungle. Our houses had all been constructed near the sea,
with the plain behind us, and their neat appearance, although only
of native materials, quite delighted us. Keppel soon sailed to tow
down to Singapore H.M.S. _Royalist_, which had been dismasted by a
sudden squall, and we were left to the care of a few marines and
blue-jackets.
The south-west monsoon was now blowing fiercely, and brought up with
it heavy clouds and drenching rain, and our plain speedily became a
fetid swamp, which laid many low with fever and ague. In an interval
of fine weather we proceeded to Brunei in the _Jolly Bachelor_, a
vessel belonging to the Rajah, but manned by blue-jackets, the steam
tender _Ranee_ and some other boats, to ratify our treaty with the
Sultan, and found prepared for us a long, low shed of a house, in
which we all took up our quarters. Brunei was in truth a Venice of
hovels, or rather huts, perched on posts driven into the mud banks
found in the broad river. Everything looked as though it were falling
to decay—the palace, the mosque, the houses of the pangerans, in
fact, the whole city of perhaps 20,000 inhabitants.
The wretched Sultan was even then suffering from a disease—cancer
on the lip—which carried him off a few years subsequently. He was a
mean-looking creature, and his previous atrocities had earned for him
the description, ‘the head of an idiot and the heart of a pirate.’
After finishing our business we returned to Labuan.
I never spent such a wretched month as that of November 1848. After
a short respite the south-west monsoon began to blow again, the rain
fell in torrents, the sea was driven up to such a height that the
waves washed under all our houses, which were built on piles, and
destroyed many of our stores. The Rajah’s English servant attributed
the diminution of the wine and brandy to the same cause. Fever was
soon upon us. First the marines and blue-jackets fell ill and many
died; then all our Chinese workmen and Kling servants; then Sir James
Brooke, the Lieutenant-Governor, the Colonial Secretary, the Colonial
Doctor, Captain Brooke, Mr Grant, and many others were down with this
weakening disease. The only ones to escape were Mr Scott and myself.
Admiral Collier arrived during this period, and fled, panic-stricken,
from the place, and ever after did all in his power to injure the
colony, and certainly did what he could to keep Her Majesty’s
vessels away, though those on board ship scarcely ever suffered.
There was gloom in every house; even the Chinese would not stay, and
went over to establish themselves in the capital.
Fortunately the barracks for the Madras garrison had been built on
the swelling ground at the back of the plain, and to this place the
Governor sent all those he could. While there they quickly recovered,
and it was decided to have fresh houses built for the whole staff
near the military quarters.
At the end of November the weather began to improve, as the
north-east monsoon made itself felt, and the _Meander_ fortunately
arrived, and Keppel insisting, Sir James and some of his staff were
embarked on board, and we sailed along the north-west coast on the
way to Balambangan Island, where an English vessel had been wrecked.
Finding her burnt to the water’s edge, Sir James decided to proceed
to Sulu and visit the Sultan.
At Sugh, the capital, we found both coolness and hesitation. Some
Dutch vessels had lately bombarded the town, and the Sultan had not
forgotten our attack on Sherif Osman of Marudu Bay. This chief had
married a relative of his, and his death after the engagement with
the English was still remembered. Besides, there were some survivors
and many relatives of those killed in the engagement in May 1847,
against whom it was necessary to take every precaution.
Whatever was the motive, the Sultan got over his soreness of heart,
and determined to see the great white chief whose fame had long
since reached his ears. He and the people were soon assured that the
English had no hostile intentions, and shortly after our arrival a
reception was arranged.
The Sulu Islands were claimed by the Spaniards, but they had
never made good their claim, for although they had sent several
expeditions against the Sultan, which were followed by treaties,
these were seldom observed by either side. The islands themselves
are as beautiful as, perhaps more beautiful than, any others I
have ever seen, well cultivated and producing all the food the
natives required, but their commerce appeared very limited. They
were the principal rendezvous of the Balignini and Lanun pirates,
and consequently a slave emporium. The products of the sea, such as
pearls and mother-of-pearl—_bêche de mer_—so prized by the Chinese,
were the most valued articles of trade, a large portion of which,
however, came from the islands further east. The proceeds of the
plunder sold by the pirates were too often invested in guns and
powder.
Sulu is nominally governed by a Sultan and a council of nobles, who,
however, possess but limited authority over the population of the
thousand and one isles.
The Sultan and his nobles received us in such state as they could
manage in a hurry, since after the late attack on them by the Dutch
their valuables had been sent to the mountains. Their reception
of the English envoy was most kind. As Sir James did not wish to
introduce business during this visit, our intercourse was purely
formal, and after mutual inquiries as to the state of our health,
and a curious reference made by the Sultan to the recent revolution
in France, we took our leave. The Sultan was a young man, pale and
emaciated, the result, it was said, of too much indulgence in opium.
The _Meander_ soon sailed from Sulu, and after calling at Samboangan,
the Spanish penal settlement in the island of Mindanau, we returned
to our colony of Labuan, where we were pleased to find that all
the officers were well, and that they had removed from the swampy
plain to the higher land behind it. There was, however, but little
progress visible, as the fever panic still prevailed. We did not stay
long here, as the Rajah was anxious to begin operations against the
Seribas and Sakarang pirates, who had again commenced to ravage the
coast. We reached Sarawak on the 16th February. A daring attack of
the Seribas Dyaks on the Sadong district, when they captured over a
hundred heads, made us move out with our native fleet to pursue them,
but a return of the north-east monsoon drove us to shelter. Later on,
accompanied by the boats of the steamer _Nemesis_, we destroyed some
of their inland villages, and thus kept them quiet for a time.
To crush these pirates, however, we required a stronger force, and
had to wait for the arrival of one of Her Majesty’s ships. In the
meantime, in order to save the independence of Sulu, threatened both
by the Dutch and the Spaniards, Sir James determined to proceed there
in the steamer _Nemesis_ and negotiate a treaty. After calling in at
Labuan, we continued our course to the Sulu seas. We were received
by the Sultan and nobles in the most friendly manner, and Sir James
had no difficulty in negotiating a treaty which, had it been ratified
and supported, would have effectually preserved the independence of
the Sultan. Our intercourse with these people was most interesting.
Preceded by his fame, Sir James soon made himself trusted by the
brave islanders, and one proof was that the Sultan asked him to visit
him in a small cottage, where he was then staying with a young bride.
I was among those who accompanied our Rajah, and on the darkest of
dark nights we groped our way there. The Sultan was almost alone, and
he soon began to converse about his troublesome neighbours, the Dutch
and the Spaniards, expressing a strong hope that the English would
support him.
Sir James explained to him our position in Labuan, and cordially
invited his people to come and trade there, assuring him that the
English had no designs on the independence of their neighbours, but
that they only wanted peace and the cessation of piracy. One or
two nobles dropped in, and the conversation turned on the subject
of hunting, and our hosts proved themselves eager sportsmen, and
invited us to return when the rice crop was over and they would
show us how they hunted the deer, both on horseback and on foot.
The Sultan, during the evening, took a few whiffs of opium, whilst
the rest of the company smoked tobacco in various forms. The women
were not rigidly excluded, as they came and looked at us whenever
they pleased; but we could not see much of them, and it is a form
of politeness to pretend not to notice their presence. After a very
enjoyable evening, we bade farewell to the Sultan, as we were to sail
the following day.
Sir James Brooke had intended to return there, establish himself on
shore for a month, and join the nobles in their sports, and thus
acquire a personal influence over them. He thought he could wean them
from intercourse with the pirates and turn them into honest traders.
It must be confessed that when we were there we had abundant evidence
that the Balignini and Lanun pirates did frequent the port to sell
their slaves and booty and lay in a stock of arms and ammunition. Sir
James was, however, persuaded that if British war steamers showed
themselves every now and then in Sulu waters, the pirates would
abandon these seas. The moment was propitious; the Spaniards had just
destroyed the haunts of Balignini, capturing many and dispersing the
rest. The sanguinary defeat of eleven of their vessels in 1847,
by the _Nemesis_, was not forgotten, and it required but a little
steady patrolling to disgust the nobles with this pursuit; in fact,
many had sold their war vessels and guns, saying, that now the
English steamers were after them, it was no longer the profession
of a gentleman. I never met natives who pleased me more; the young
chiefs were frank, manly fellows, fond of riding and hunting, and our
intercourse with them was very pleasant. It was always a matter of
regret with me that I never had an opportunity of visiting them again.
Leaving Sulu, we called in at Samboangan, and had a very agreeable
time with the acquaintances we had previously made there. We saw
how little the Spaniards had done to develop the immense island of
Mindanau. Here and there on the coast were some small settlements,
with cultivation extending but a few miles inland, but there was a
great air of neatness about the places dotted along the coast.
On our return voyage we touched at Labuan, and then went on to
Sarawak, where we found H.M.’s brig _Albatross_, Commander Farquhar,
and the _Royalist_, Lieutenant-Commander Everest. The _Nemesis_
proceeded on to Singapore, but soon rejoined us.
[Illustration: MAP OF BORNEO AND PART OF THE EASTERN ARCHIPELAGO,
SHEWING BRITISH TERRITORIES, BRITISH PROTECTORATES, AND FEDERATED
MALAY STATES.]
The expedition which was now organised was the largest that ever left
the non-piratical districts for the punishment of the marauders.
Besides the steamer _Nemesis_, we had the boats of the _Albatross_
and _Royalist_, and about one hundred native prahus, manned by
between three and four thousand men. I have in another work so fully
described this expedition that I will not give a fresh account,
but content myself with a summary of our proceedings. As a turning
point in the history of the coast it will ever be remembered, not
only as the greatest blow that was ever struck at Dyak piracy, and
practically its destruction, but also because it led to the great
misfortune that Sir James Brooke considered it necessary to retire
from the public service, a step which was forced upon him by the
weakness of Lord Aberdeen’s Government and the malice of his enemies.
On the 24th July 1849 the _Nemesis_ started with the _Royalist_,
the _Ranee_ tender, and seven English boats in tow, and we followed
in the evening with our powerful native contingent. The campaign,
as planned by the authorities, was to proceed up the great river of
Rejang, and attack the pirate communities from inland; but on our way
to the mouth of that river we received information that ninety-eight
Seribas war boats had pulled along the coast towards our point of
rendezvous, the Rejang. It was instantly decided that on its return
we should attempt to intercept this fleet, and our force was divided
into two squadrons, one to guard the entrance of the Seribas, the
other the mouth of the next river to the north, the Kaluka.
After two days’ waiting, our spy boats, at sunset on the 31st,
brought intelligence of the approach of the pirate fleet. When they
saw us at the mouth of the Kaluka, they gave an exultant shout and
dashed away for home, but their hopes soon vanished as they were
met by the _Nemesis_, the English boats, and the mass of our native
fleet. Some turned to escape by the Kaluka, but were driven back and
pursued by our light division. They now lost all hope of being able
to get away in their heavy bangkongs; they therefore ran them on
shore and escaped into the jungle.
In the morning the Rajah received a note from Farquhar to say that he
had gone up the Seribas with the steamer to prevent any of the pirate
boats escaping, but the few who had forced their way through the
blockading squadron were already far beyond his reach. Our division
then proceeded to the mouth of the Seribas. What a sight it was!
Seventy-five of their war boats were lying on the sands, eighteen
had been sunk at sea, and twelve alone escaped up the river. Such a
defeat had never before been known.
These war boats were very different from what have been described by
certain critics. I measured one. It was eighty feet in length, nine
in breadth, and its pulling crew must have consisted of at least
seventy men. The pirates murdered all their girl captives, and, after
shocking mutilations, cut off their heads and escaped. We soon had
ample proof of the piracies committed by this fleet. Not only had
they attacked villages on shore, but they had captured two large
native vessels on their way to and from Singapore. It would have been
easy to have destroyed the fugitive pirates by occupying a narrow
isthmus over which they must pass, but Sir James Brooke, convinced
that this great defeat would have full effect, called off his excited
native followers to the attack of the interior strongholds.
During our stay in the districts of Paku, we lost some men from the
over-confidence of the sons of the Orang Kaya Tumangong of Lundu, who
advanced to clear the path by which we were to march on the town.
They were stooping to pull out the _ranjaus_ when the Seribas, headed
by Lingire, sprang upon them, and cut down two, while the third son
escaped, as a party of our Malays poured a volley into the enemy
and killed several of them. However, we advanced next day and laid
their country waste, our native contingent loading themselves with
plunder. Having showed the pirates that no defences could prevent our
punishing them, it was decided to carry out the original plan and
attack those Sakarang and Seribas Dyaks who lived on the Kanowit,
a branch of the great Rejang river, about a hundred miles from the
mouth of the latter. These men were most feared by the inhabitants of
the Sago districts, which were situated near the western entrances of
the mighty stream.
Many of our native allies now left us, as they were loaded with
plunder and were not provisioned for so long a voyage; so we
proceeded with the _Nemesis_, the English boats, and our principal
Malay war prahus, and as soon as we appeared on the Rejang fresh
bodies of natives began to join us, eager to retaliate upon those
who had so often attacked them and captured their trading vessels.
The Rejang is a splendid river, destined some day to be an important
highway of commerce, as its various branches open out a large extent
of country, and it penetrates further into the great island of Borneo
than any other stream on the north-west coast.
The _Nemesis_ towed many of the boats up to the entrance of the
Kanowit branch, and anchored there whilst the expedition pushed up
to attack the great pirate chief Buah Ryah, who had established his
quarters in the interior of this broad river. We advanced rapidly,
and were within one day’s pull of his forts, while Captain Brooke,
with the light division of fast-pulling boats had reconnoitred some
miles ahead, and found that the pirates were beginning to show in
great numbers, which made us feel assured that we should soon be
in touch with the main body. We landed to inspect a large village
house, which was surrounded by a cotton plantation, and found it
well built, and full of baskets of the skulls of the unfortunates
who had been surprised by these marauders. I counted three hundred
heads in one village. We then fell down the river to join Sir James
Brooke and the English force, in great spirits at the prospect
of coming in contact with the enemy next day. We were therefore
astonished to hear, on our arrival, that it had been decided to
give up the object of our expedition and return. As dinner was
over, we removed to a short distance from our chiefs to have our
meal in quiet, and to express to each other our indignation at the
decision to which our naval commander had come. Some others joined
us, equally disappointed. Towards the end of the meal, I could not
help raising my glass and saying aloud, ‘Oh, for one hour of bonnie
Keppel!’ Captain Farquhar sprang up and came over to us to inquire
what I meant. We told him why we considered his determination
very detrimental to the cause, as we were approaching Buah Ryah’s
stronghold. He urged, however, the fatigue of his men, who had been
pulling many days in succession against a strong current. We proposed
a day’s rest, but on a hint from Sir James I gave up the discussion.
He thought as I did, that Buah Ryah would, with some reason, proclaim
that we were afraid to attack him, and would be thus encouraged to
hold out. This actually happened, and thus the pacification of these
districts was delayed for many years. There is no doubt that the
English sailors were really tired, and possibly also dissatisfied,
as all the skirmishing was done by our native contingent, who forged
ahead of the slow-pulling men-of-war’s boats. How we missed the
special boats of the _Meander_! The sailors, however, might have
been sure that had there been any real fighting ahead, all would
have waited for them.
As we gloomily fell down the river we met thousands of natives
who were coming to join our expedition, and who were desperately
disappointed that Buah Ryah had not been punished. When near the
mouth of the Kanowit we were hailed by the inhabitants of the
villages we had destroyed. A conference ensued; they showed their
faith in the white man by boldly pulling out to our prahus. They did
not attempt to deny their piracies, but promised amendment; and most
of these chiefs kept their word.
As we returned towards Sarawak the native chiefs of all the trading
towns on the coast came to express their unbounded thanks to the
English Rajah and to the Queen’s forces for the punishment they had
inflicted on the pirates, and the prospect it held out of trade being
carried on free from danger of pillage and death.