The Dindings--The Tragedy on Pulu Pangkor--A Tropic Sunrise--Sir W.
Robinson's Departure--"A Touch of the Sun"--Kling Beauty--A Question
and Answer--The Bazaars of Georgetown--The Chinaman Goes Ahead--The
Products of Pinang--Pepper-Planting
HOTEL DE L'EUROPE, PINANG, February 9.
In the evening we reached the Dindings, a lovely group of small islands
ceded to England by the Pangkor Treaty, and just now in the height of
an unenviable notoriety. The sun was low and the great heat past, the
breeze had died away, and in the dewy stillness the largest of the
islands looked unspeakably lovely as it lay in the golden light between
us and the sun, forest-covered to its steep summit, its rocky
promontories running out into calm, deep, green water, and forming
almost land-locked bays, margined by shores of white coral sand backed
by dense groves of cocoa-palms whose curving shadows lay dark upon the
glassy sea. Here and there a Malay house in the shade indicated man and
his doings, but it was all silent.
On a high, steep point there is a small clearing on which stands a mat
bungalow with an attap roof, and below this there is a mat police
station, but it was all desolate, nothing stirred, and though we had
intended to spend the early hours of the night at the Dindings, we only
lay a short time in the deep shadow upon the clear green water,
watching scarlet fish playing in the coral forests, and the exquisite
beauty of the island with its dense foliage in dark relief against the
cool lemon sky. Peace brooded over the quiet shores, heavy aromatic
odors of night-blooming plants wrapped us round, the sun sank suddenly,
the air became cool, it was a dream of tropic beauty.
"Chalakar! Bondo!" Those jarring sounds seemed to have something
linking them with the tragedy of which the peaceful-looking bungalow
was lately the scene, and of which you have doubtless read. A Chinese
gang swooped down upon the house from behind, beating gongs and
shouting. Captain Lloyd got up to see what was the matter, and was
felled by a hatchet, calling out to his wife for his revolver. This had
been abstracted, and the locks had been taken off his fowling-pieces.
The ayah fled to the jungle in the confusion, taking with her the three
children, the youngest only four weeks old. The wretches then
fractured, Mrs. Lloyd's skull with the hatchet, and having stunned Mrs.
Innes, who was visiting her, they pushed the senseless bodies under the
bed, and were preparing to set fire to it when something made them
depart.
No more is likely to be known. The police must either have been
cowardly or treacherous. The Pyah Pekket called the next day and
brought the frightfully mangled corpse, Mrs. Lloyd, whose reason was
overturned, and Mrs. Innes, on here. It is supposed that the Chinese
secret societies have frustrated justice. A wretch is to be hanged here
for the crime this morning on his own confession, but it is believed
that he was doomed to sacrifice himself by one of these societies, in
order to screen the real murderers. The contrast was awful between the
island looking so lovely in the evening light, and this horrid deed
which has desolated it.
The mainland approaches close to the Dindings, but the mangrove swamps
of Selangor had given place to lofty ranges, forest covered, and a
white coral strand fringed with palms. It was a lovely night. The
north-east monsoon was fresh and steady, and the stars were glorious.
It was very hot below, but when I went up on deck it was cool, and in
the colored dawn we were just running up to the island-group of which
Pinang is the chief, and reached the channel which divides it from
Leper Island just at sunrise. All these islands are densely wooded, and
have rocky shores. The high mountains of the native State of Kedah
close the view to the north, and on the other side of a very narrow
channel are the palm groves and sugar plantations of Province
Wellesley. The Leper Island looked beautiful in the dewy morning with
its stilted houses under the cocoa-palms; and the island of Pinang,
with its lofty peak, dense woods, and shores fringed with palms
sheltering Malay kampongs, each with its prahus drawn up on the beach,
looked impressive enough.
The fierce glory of a tropic sunrise is ever a new delight. It is
always the sun of the Nineteenth Psalm, with the prevailing yellow
color of the eastern sky intensifying in one spot, a cool, lingering
freshness, a deepening of the yellow east into a brilliant rose color,
till suddenly, "like a glory, the broad sun" wheels above the horizon,
the dew-bathed earth rejoices, the air is flooded with vitality, all
things which rejoice in light and heat come forth, night birds and
night prowlers retire, and we pale people hastily put up our umbrellas
to avoid being shriveled in less than ten minutes from the first
appearance of the sun.
"Pinang," from the Pinang or areca-palm, is the proper name of the
island, but out of compliment to George IV, it was called Prince of
Wales Island. Georgetown is the name of the capital, but by an odd
freak we call the town Penang, and spell it with an e instead of an i.
There were a great many ships and junks at anchor, and the huge "P. and
O." steamer Peking, and there was a state of universal hurry and
excitement, for a large number of the officials of the Colonial
Government and of the "protected" States are here to meet Sir W.
Robinson, the Governor, who is on his way home on leave. There are
little studies of human nature going on all round. Most people have
"axes to grind." There are people pushing rival claims, some wanting
promotion, others leave; some frank and above-board in their ways,
others descending to mean acts to gain favor, or undermining the good
reputation of their neighbors; everybody wanting something, and
usually, as it seems, at the expense of somebody else!
Mr. Douglas, who had got up his men in most imposing costume, anchored
the Abdulsamat close to the Peking, and at once went on board, with the
kris with the gold hilt and scabbard presented by the Sultan of
Selangor. In the meantime the Governor sent for me to breakfast on
board, and I was obliged to go among clean, trim people without having
time to change my traveling dress. On deck I was introduced by the
Governor to Mr. Low, the Resident in Perak, who has arranged for my
transit thither, and to Mr. Maxwell, the Assistant Resident. I was so
glad that I had no claims of my own to push when I saw the many
perturbed and anxious faces. I sat next Sir William Robinson at
breakfast, and found him most kind and courteous, and he interested
himself in my impressions of the native States. No one could make out
the flags on the Selangor yacht, four squares placed diagonally, two
yellow and two red, in one of the red ones a star and crescent in
yellow, and on the mizzenmast the same flag with a blue ensign as one
of the squares! I wonder if the faineant Sultan who luxuriates at
Langat knows anything of the sensationalism of his "yacht."
Mr. Douglas took me back to the launch in fierce blazing heat, which
smote me just as I put down my umbrella in order to climb up her side,
and caused me to fall forward with a sort of vertigo and an icy chill,
but as soon as I arrived here I poured deluges of cold water on my
head, and lay down with an iced bandage on, and am now much better. In
nine months of tropical traveling, and exposure on horseback without an
umbrella to the full force of the sun, I have never been affected
before. I wear a white straw hat with the sides and low crown thickly
wadded. I also have a strip four inches broad of three thicknesses of
wadding, sewn into the middle of the back of my jacket, and usually
wear in addition a coarse towel wrung out in water, folded on the top
of my head, and hanging down the back of my neck.
Soon after I came into the salon Mr. Wood, the Puisne Judge, a very
genial, elderly man, called and took me to his house, where I found a
very pleasant party, Sir Thomas Sidgreaves, the Chief Justice, Mr.
Maxwell, the Assistant Resident in Perak, Mr. Walker, appointed to the
(acting) command of the Sikh force in Perak, and Mr. Kinnersley, a
Pinang magistrate, with Mr. Isemonger, the police magistrate of the
adjacent Province Wellesley. With an alteration in the names of places
and people, the conversation was just what I have heard in all British
official circles from Prince Edward Island to Singapore, who was likely
to go home on leave, who might get a step, whether the Governor would
return, what new appointments were likely to be created, etc., the
interest in all these matters being intensified by the recent visit of
Sir W. Robinson. It was all pleasant and interesting to me.
This evening the moonlight from the window was entrancingly beautiful,
the shadows of promontory behind promontory lying blackly on the silver
water amidst the scents and silences of the purple night.
As one lands on Pinang one is impressed even before reaching the shore
by the blaze of color in the costumes of the crowds which throng the
jetty. There are over fifteen thousand Klings, Chuliahs, and other
natives of India on the island, and with their handsome but not very
intellectual faces, their Turkey-red turbans and loin-cloths, or the
soft, white muslins in which both men and women drape themselves, each
one might be an artist's model. The Kling women here are beautiful and
exquisitely draped, but the form of the cartilage of the nose and ears
is destroyed by heavy rings. There are many Arabs, too, who are wealthy
merchants and bankers. One of them, Noureddin, is the millionaire of
Pinang, and is said to own landed property here to the extent of
400,000 pounds. There are more than twenty-one thousand Malays on the
island, and though their kampongs are mostly scattered among the palm-
groves, their red sarongs and white bajus are seen in numbers in the
streets; but I have not seen one Malay woman. There are about six
hundred and twelve Europeans in the town and on Pinang, but they make
little show, though their large massive bungalows, under the shade of
great bread-fruit and tamarind-trees, give one the idea of wealth and
solidity.
The sight of the Asiatics who have crowded into Georgetown is a
wonderful one, Chinese, Burmese, Javanese, Arabs, Malays, Sikhs,
Madrassees, Klings, Chuliahs, and Parsees, and still they come in junks
and steamers and strange Arabian craft, and all get a living, depend
slavishly on no one, never lapse into pauperism, retain their own
dress, customs, and religion, and are orderly. One asks what is
bringing this swarthy, motley crowd from all Asian lands, from the Red
to the Yellow Sea, from Mecca to Canton, and one of my Kling boatmen
answers the question, "Empress good--coolie get money; keep it." This
being interpreted is, that all these people enjoy absolute security of
life and property under our flag, that they are certain of even-handed
justice in our colonial courts, and that "the roll of the British drum"
and the presence of a British iron-clad mean to them simply that
security which is represented to us by an efficient police force. It is
so strange to see that other European countries are almost nowhere in
this strange Far East. Possibly many of the Chinese have heard of
Russia, but Russia, France, Germany, and America, the whole lot of the
"Great Powers" are represented chiefly by a few second-rate war-ships,
or shabby consulates in back streets, while England is a "name to
conjure with," and is represented by prosperous colonies, powerful
protective forces, law, liberty, and security. These ideas are forced
so strongly upon me as I travel westward, that I almost fear that I am
writing in a "hifalutin" style, so I will only add that I think that
our Oriental Grand Vizier knew Oriental character and the way of
influencing Oriental modes of thinking better than his detractors when
he added et Imperatrix to the much loved V. R.
This is truly a brilliant place under a brilliant sky, but Oh I weary
for the wilds! There is one street, Chulia Street, entirely composed of
Chulia and Kling bazaars. Each sidewalk is a rude arcade, entered by
passing through heavy curtains, when you find yourself in a narrow,
crowded passage, with deep or shallow recesses on one side, in which
the handsome, brightly-dressed Klings sit on the floor, surrounded by
their bright-hued goods; and over one's head and all down the narrow,
thronged passage, noisy with business, are hung Malay bandannas, red
turban cloths, red sarongs in silk and cotton, and white and gold
sprinkled muslins, the whole length of the very long bazaar, blazing
with color, and picturesque beyond description with beautiful costume.
The Klings are much pleasanter to buy from than the Chinese. In
addition to all the brilliant things which are sold for native wear,
they keep large stocks of English and German prints, which they sell
for rather less than the price asked for them at home, and for less
than half what the same goods are sold for at the English shops.
I am writing as if the Klings were predominant, but they are so only in
good looks and bright colors. Here again the Chinese, who number
forty-five thousand souls, are becoming commercially the most important
of the immigrant races, as they have long been numerically and
industrially. In Georgetown, besides selling their own and all sorts of
foreign goods at reasonable rates in small shops, they have large
mercantile houses, and, as elsewhere, are gradually gaining a
considerable control over the trade of the place. They also occupy
positions of trust in foreign houses, and if there were a strike among
them all business, not excepting that of the Post Office, would come to
a standstill. I went into the Mercantile Bank and found only Chinese
clerks, in the Post Office and only saw the same, and when I went to
the "P. and O." office to take my berth for Ceylon, it was still a
Chinaman, imperturbable, taciturn, independent, and irreproachably
clean, with whom I had to deal in "pidjun English." They are everywhere
the same, keen, quick-witted for chances, markedly self-interested,
purpose-like, thrifty, frugal, on the whole regarding honesty as the
best policy, independent in manner as in character, and without a trace
of "Oriental servility."
Georgetown, February 11th.--I have not seen very much in my two days;
indeed, I doubt whether there is much to see, in my line at least; nor
has the island any interesting associations as Malacca has, or any
mystery of unexplored jungle as in Sungei Ujong and Selangor. Pinang
came into our possession in 1786, through the enterprise of Mr. Light,
a merchant captain, who had acquired much useful local knowledge by
trading to Kedah and other Malay States. The Indian Government desired
a commercial "emporium" and a naval station in the far east, and Mr.
Light recommended this island, then completely covered with forest, and
only inhabited by two migratory families of Malay fishermen, whose huts
were on the beach where this town now stands. In spite of romantic
stories of another kind, to which even a recent encyclopedia gives
currency, it seems that the Rajah of Kedah, to whom the island
belonged, did not bestow it on Mr. Light, but sold it to the British
Government for a stipulated payment of 2,000 pounds a year, which his
successor receives at this day.
It is little over thirteen miles long; and from five to ten broad. It
is a little smaller than the Isle of Wight, its area being one hundred
and seven square miles.
The roads are excellent. After one has got inside of the broad belt of
cocoa and areca palms which runs along the coast, one comes upon
beautiful and fertile country, partly level, and partly rolling, with
rocks of granite and mica-schist, and soil of a shallow but rich
vegetable mould, with abundance of streams and little cascades, dotted
all over with villas (very many of them Chinese) and gardens, and
planted with rice, pepper and fruits, while cloves and nutmegs, which
last have been long a failure, grow on the higher lands. The centre of
Pinang is wooded and not much cultivated, but on the south and
south-west coasts there are fine sugar, coffee and pepper plantations.
The coffee looks very healthy. From the ridges in the centre of the
island the ground rises toward the north, till, at the Peak, it reaches
the height of two thousand nine hundred and twenty-two feet. There is a
sanitarium there with a glorious view, and a delicious temperature
ranging from 60 degrees to 75 degrees, while in the town and on the low
lands it ranges from 80 degrees to 90 degrees. A sea breeze blows every
day, and rain falls throughout the year, except in January and
February. The vegetation is profuse, but less beautiful and tropical
than on the mainland, and I have seen very few flowers except in
gardens.
The products are manifold--guavas, mangoes, lemons, oranges, bananas,
plantains, shaddocks, bread-fruit, etc.; and sugar, rice, sweet
potatoes, ginger, areca, and cocoa-nuts, coffee, cloves, some nutmegs,
and black and white pepper. My gharrie driver took me to see a Chinese
pepper plantation--to me the most interesting thing that I saw on a
very long and hot drive. Pepper is a very profitable crop. The vine
begins to bear in three or four years after the cuttings have been
planted, and yields two crops annually for about thirteen years. It is
an East Indian plant, rather pretty, but of rambling and untidy growth,
a climber, with smooth, soft stems, ten or twelve feet long, and tough,
broadly ovate leaves. It is supported much as hops are. When the
berries on a spike begin to turn red they are gathered, as they lose
pungency if they are allowed to ripen. They are placed on mats, and are
either trodden with the feet or rubbed by the hands to separate them
from the spike, after which they are cleaned by winnowing. Black pepper
consists of such berries wrinkled and blackened in the process of
drying, and white pepper of similar berries freed from the skin and the
fleshy part of the fruit by being soaked in water and then rubbed. Some
planters bleach with chlorine to improve the appearance; but this
process, as may be supposed, does not improve the flavor.
In these climates the natives use enormous quantities of pepper, as
they do of all hot condiments, and the Europeans imitate them.
Although there are so many plantations, a great part of Pinang is
uncleared, and from the peak most of it looks like a forest. It
contains ninety thousand inhabitants, the Chinese more than equaling
all the other nationalities put together. Its trade, which in 1860 was
valued at 3,500,000 pounds, is now (1880) close upon 8,000,000 pounds,
Pinang being, like Singapore, a great entrepot and "distributing
point."
Now for the wilds once more!