the good coffee exposed as myths; the white ants never eating out the
contents of a trunk overnight; mildew ignoring the luggage left for
over a fortnight at Buitenzorg; and the trunks left at Singapore for
more than a month equally innocent of fungus-mold, I felt that the
tropics had defrauded me a bit—or else that I had lent too willing an
ear to returned travelers’ imaginations. Taking my own experience as
proof, there might be written a brief chapter about snakes to match that
famous one in Horrebow’s “History of Iceland.” But the disillusionment
of disillusionments awaited us on the borders of Bantam, when the last
Batavian day brought information that our so-called tiny bantam cock
is not from Bantam at all. It was first seen on board a Japanese junk
trading at Bantam in the long ago, and the Malays, who are natural and
long-descended cock-fighters, saw in these little fowls combatants more
spirited than any of their own breed, and of more manageable size. The
true bantam cocks to the province born are nearly as large as turkeys;
long ago Dr. Marsden told of their being as large as Norfolk bustards,
and of their standing high enough to peck off the dinner-table, and said
that when they sat down on the first joint of the leg they were taller
than any common fowls. The introduction of the pretty Japanese fowls
revolutionized cock-fighting, and the Dutch imported them through their
Nagasaki factory, and introduced them to Europe.
The equator was proved not such a terrible thing as it had been made
out to be—a thing that might be spoken of very disrespectfully because
of that misplaced awe and veneration; and the tropics not at all as
astonishing as they used to be, when illustrated books of travel, museum
collections and models, and exposition villages had not made their life
and scenery so familiar; when hothouses had not brought even orchids to
common acquaintance, and Northern markets to displaying oranges and
bananas as commonly and regularly as apples or potatoes.
With the other India—the whole continent of the real, the greater, or
British India—before us, we could not delay on the Netherlands isle;
and that strange, haunting, indefinite fear, the dread of some unknown,
undefinable evil, that shadows and oppresses one so in the tropics,
asserted itself more strongly as we approached Batavia. One is not sure
whether this vague fear which possesses one under the line is due to
the sense of extreme distance, to dread of the many diseases that lie
in wait, to fear of the sudden deaths of so many kinds that may snatch
one in the lands where the sun swings nearest, or to the peril of
volcanic forces that may instantly overwhelm one in some disaster like
that of Krakatau. At least, there was always a sensation of oppression,
a dread of some impending danger in the midst of one’s enjoyment, and
an unconscious looking-forward to free breathing and the sensation of
safety, when once across the line again, back to the grand route and the
world again, safe under the British flag at friendly Singapore, at home
again with the English language.
Yet Java, the peerless gem in “that magnificent empire of Insul-Inde
which winds about the equator like a garland of emeralds,” is the
ideal tropical island, the greenest, the most beautiful, and the most
exquisitely cultivated spot in the East, the most picturesque and
satisfactory bit of the tropics anywhere near the world’s great routes of
travel. Now that the dark days of Dutch rule are ended and enlightened
modes prevail; now that the culture system has developed the island’s
resources and made it all one exquisite, fruitful garden, and the
colonists have begun to take an interest in uncovering and protecting the
ancient monuments, the interest and attractions of Java are greater each
year. It is alike the scientist’s greatest storehouse and the traveler’s
unequaled tropical pleasure-resort and playground in the East. The
antiquities have been merely scratched, explorations in that line are
only well begun, leaving to archæologists and anthropologists a field
of incalculable richness—more especially to those bent upon arriving at
some solution of the great puzzle, some proof of Asiatic and American
contact in pre-Columbian times. The puzzling resemblance of the older
Javanese ruins to those of Central America has yet to be explained, and
the alluring theory of migration from the rich “food-ponds” of the waters
within the archipelago to other and farther inclosed seas teeming with
fishes, until the Malays had followed with the great currents up one
shore of the Pacific Ocean and down the other, must be proved. Dutch
scientists naturally desire to explore and exploit this treasure-house
of Java for themselves; but with a questioning world and many eager
inquirers bent on solving all the mysteries and problems of race origin
and migrations, the prize must be won by the swiftest.
If Baedeker or Murray would only go to Java and kindly light the
tourist’s way; if the Dutch government would relax the useless vexations
of the toelatings-kaart system, and the colonists welcome the visitor
in more kindly spirit, Java would rank, as it deserves to, as a close
second to Japan, an oasis in travel, an island of beauty and delight
to the increasing number of round-the-world travelers, who each year
are discouraged from visiting the country by less heedful ones who have
ventured there.
Whether, as pessimists foretell, a Mohammedan rebellion shall desolate
the isle; whether it remains in Dutch leading-strings, arrives at even
the limited independence of a British colony, or succumbs to Germany’s
colonial ambitions, as the French so freely prophesy, Java is certain
soon to loom larger in the world’s view, and for a time at least to
occupy the stage.
FOOTNOTES
[1] See Sir Stamford Raffles’s “History of Java,” Appendix A.
[2] “Max Havelaar,” by Edouard Douwes Dekker (Multatuli); translation by
Baron Nahuys (Edinburgh, 1868).
[3] See “A Visit to Java,” W. Basil Worsfold, London, 1893.
[4] Holland has a population of 359 to the square mile (December 31,
1892), and Belgium a population of 540 to the square mile. French
statisticians are confident that Java will soon surpass Belgium in the
density of its population.
[5] Vide “Six Semaines à Java,” par Désiré de Charnay (“Le Tour du
Monde,” volume for 1880).
[6] “Le Tour du Monde,” “Six Semaines à Java,” par M. Désiré de Charnay,
volume for 1880.
[7] Majapahit, capital of the eastern empire, was near the modern
Soerabaya.
[8] Pajajaran, capital of the western empire, was near the modern Batavia.
[9] The Royal Society gives an estimate of seventeen miles as the height
of this great column of smoke.
INDEX
Achin, 4, 10.
Antiar. See UPAS.
Arabs, 37, 38, 227, 265.
Ashantee, 10, 72.
Asoka, 194.
Ayudya, 269.
Badouins, 326.
Baloeboer-Baloeboer-Limbangan, 154.
Bananas, 8, 80.
Bandong, 150.
Bantam, 42, 333.
Banteng, 133.
Batavia, 21, 25-48.
Batavian Society, Museum of, 34, 35, 36.
Baths, 60, 131.
Battek, 42, 45, 46.
Betel-nut, 42.
Bilimbi, 84.
Birds’ nests, 304.
Birds, tropic, 13, 130.
Block-printing, 261.
Boro, Boedor, 167-169, 182-202.
Botanical Garden, 66-70.
Brambanam, 218.
Breadfruit, 85.
Breon, M. René, 328.
Bromo, Mount, 265, 299.
Brumund, Herr, 169, 197.
Buddhism, 168, 169, 187, 190, 193, 194.
Buddhist art, 36, 167, 190, 223, 224.
Buffalo, water-, 55.
Buitenzorg, 49, 62-76, 79, 324.
Burglary, 271.
Cacao, 58, 129.
Carambola, 84.
Central America, 186, 232, 238, 263.
Chandi Sewou, 228-234.
Chicago Exposition, 143, 144, 145.
Chinese, 22, 37, 38, 39, 40, 80, 261, 262, 290.
Christianity, 55, 56.
Cinchona-culture, 70, 104, 150.
Climate, 21, 49, 127, 331, 332.
Coffee, 65, 115, 116.
Coffee-culture, 95, 103, 104, 142, 317.
Coinage, 20.
Courts of law, 271.
Culture system, 94-125.
Daendels, Marshal, 22, 95, 97, 270, 275, 276.
Dancing-girls, 188, 288.
De Charnay, M. Désiré, 186, 232, 238, 263, 264.
Delsarte, 293.
Depok, 65.
Dhyani, 193.
Dieng plateau, 237, 238.
Dishabille, 26, 66.
Djokjakarta, 170, 213, 269-282.
Dodok, 132, 156, 163, 246, 252, 297.
Duku, 83.
Durian, 85, 86.
Education, 56, 57.
Egypt, 263.
Fergusson’s “History of Indian and Eastern Architecture,” 169, 189,
220, 264.
Ferns, tree-, 317.
Findlay’s “Sailing Directory,” 328-330.
Forbes, H. O., 328
Frangipani, 68, 92, 93.
Fruits, 80-91.
Gamelan, 143, 287, 290, 297, 322.
Garoet, 312, 313.
Gautama Buddha, Prince Siddhartha, 187.
Gecko, 59, 212.
Gedeh, 325.
Government, colonial, 31, 32, 119, 120.
Gulden, 20.
Heyden, General Van der, 11.
Hotel life, 25, 26, 29, 58, 59, 61, 313.
Indigo-culture, 104.
Jamboa, 84.
Kalaidon, 151, 152, 153.
Kali, Goddess. See LORO JONGGRAN.
Kanari-trees, 67, 158, 302, 304.
Kawi language, 72, 283, 284, 293.
Khublai Khan, 227.
Kina. See CINCHONA.
Krakatau, 11, 326-330.
Kris, 35, 154, 242, 257, 258, 259, 272, 289.
Land laws, 119.
Laundering, 60.
Lawu, Mount, 263.
Leemans, Dr., 197.
Leles, plain of, 152, 153.
Literature, native, 283, 284.
Lizards, 59, 212, 248, 305.
Lombok, 278.
Loro Jonggran, 220, 223.
Macartney, Lord, 21, 289.
Mahabharata, 283, 284.
Majapahit, 241, 265, 269.
Malacca, Straits of, 1, 3, 8.
Malays, 2, 3, 41, 42, 121.
Mangosteen, 30, 87, 88.
Marco Polo, 227.
Mataram, 269, 278.
“Max Havelaar,” 110.
McKinley Bill, 77.
“Menac,” 298, 299.
Mendoet, 209, 210.
Merapi, 180, 263.
Merbaboe, 180, 263.
Metzger, Emile, 273.
Missions, 55.
Mohammedans, 38.
Money, J. W. B., 113, 114.
Monkeys, 224, 282, 323.
Monsoon, 18.
Mortality, 21.
Music, 143, 287, 290.
Nanko, 85.
No dance, 293.
Noesa Kambangan, 303.
North, Marianne, 126, 186.
Opium, 107.
Pajajaran, 241, 269.
Pajong, 174, 209, 246, 253, 254, 274, 296.
Pakoe Alam, Prince, 278, 290, 294-300.
Palaces, 36, 67, 246, 249.
Palms, 62, 72, 91, 205.
Pangerango, 325.
Panji, 258, 290.
Papandayang, 314, 319.
Papaya, 86, 87.
Parakan Salak, 128, 136.
Paranaks, 39, 261, 290.
Passer, 42, 79, 161, 176, 206, 254, 272, 313.
Passports. See TOELATINGS-KAART.
Pawnshops, 257, 273.
Perk, Herr, 228.
Pineapple, 87, 308.
Polo, Marco, 227.
Pomelo, 87.
Population, 17, 21, 22, 176.
Raden Saleh, 47, 71.
Raffles, Lady, 69, 75.
Raffles, Sir Stamford, 1, 3, 96, 97, 168, 169, 227, 264, 269, 283.
Railway, 5, 50, 51, 52, 164, 307.
Ramayan, 283.
Rambutan, 83.
Rice-fields, 52, 53, 147, 312.
Riz tavel, 30.
Royal Society of Great Britain, 328.
Sadoe, 19.
Salak (fruit), 84.
Salak, Mount, 18, 62, 127, 128.
Salt monopoly, 105.
Sarong, 26, 45, 46, 66, 257, 260, 281, 289, 312.
Siddhartha, Prince, 187.
Sinagar, 128-146.
Sindanglaya, 325.
Singapore, 1.
Singa Sari, 237.
Slavery, 101.
Snakes, 165, 166, 320.
Social life, 30, 33, 66, 129, 289, 294, 295, 313.
Soembung, 180.
Soerabaya, 265.
Soerakarta. See SOLO.
Solo, 240-264.
Staunton, 21, 289.
Steamships, 7.
Stirrup, 254.
Sugar-culture, 98, 115, 205.
Suku, 263, 264.
Sultan of Djokja, 274.
Sumatra, 9-11.
Susunhan, 241-246, 269, 270.
Tailors, 79, 162.
Tandjon Priok, 18, 19.
Tapioca, 310.
Tea-culture, 102, 103, 137, 138, 141.
Tengger, 265.
_Terra ingrata_, 163, 164.
“Thousand Temples.” See CHANDI SEWOU.
Tissak Malaya, 156-162.
Tjilatjap, 301, 302.
Toekoe Oemar, 11.
Toelatings-kaart, 23, 170, 211, 215.
Topeng, 278.
Tosari, 265.
Upas, 319, 321.
Verbeek, R. D. M., 328.
Volcanoes, 18, 67, 150, 180, 265, 309, 314, 318.
Vorstenlanden, 240.
Wallace, Alfred Russel, 12, 23, 114, 126, 169.
“Wandering Jew,” 47.
Water Kastel, 257, 277.
Wayang-wayang, 143, 287, 288.
Wilsen, Herr, 198.
Ylang-ylang, 92.
Yucatan, 238, 239, 264.