ADVENTURES IN BALI.
We fully experienced the difficulty a hostile army might have in
effecting a landing upon the shores of Bali; for we were a full week
prowling along the coast, with all our eyes open, ere we discovered a
good anchorage, and then it was up a creek or inlet to the westward.
True, we landed in the dominions of the Rajah or King of Blilling, but
it was in the remotest part, and a district under the rule of an almost
independent chief. Going ashore, the natives, who were of more savage
aspect and manner than I had expected to see in Bali, flourished their
creeses and spears in our faces, demanding who and what we were; but
when Prabu told them he was an envoy from the Pangeran of Pugar to the
Rajah of Bali, and desired to pass through that territory, they became
suddenly as submissive as slaves, and begged he would follow them to
their chief--a request with which he gladly complied, Martin and I
following.
They conducted us to the palace, which consisted of several buildings,
erected upon terraces called _pandapas_; each of these were four-sided,
with a thatched roof, and supported by four wooden pillars, around
which was a movable hoarding of bamboos. To one of these we were
introduced, where we found a ferocious-looking little savage, in the
undress of his race, smoking a large pipe, and in earnest converse with
a younger but equally ferocious-looking personage, whom we afterwards
discovered to be his son.
“How, dogs,” exclaimed the senior, “is this that you bring a stranger
to this presence without our bidding?”
“The lives of his slaves,” replied the chief of our guides, trembling,
“are at the great lord’s disposal; but the noble stranger is an
ambassador to his Highness the Rajah. It may please our dread Prince to
question him.”
“Ah! what words are these?” cried the senior, playing with his creese.
“Thy servant, O great chief and warrior,” replied Prabu, “has a mission
to his Highness the Rajah of Blilling, from the Pangeran of Pugar; he
therefore craves help and aid to reach the royal city and palace, for
it is only upon your lordship’s territory he has been able to find a
landing-place.”
At the name of their royal master the chiefs bent their heads low, and
the senior desired Prabu to be seated by his side. For several minutes
they conversed together in low tones, and although we could not hear
their words, we had little doubt of their importance; for the whole
time the Chief kept playing with the handle of his creese, and rolling
his savage eyes about terribly. When, however, it was concluded, he
ordered his slaves to conduct us to the largest of the pandapas, which
was to be at our service during our sojourn in his territory. Moreover,
he invited us to a banquet in the evening.
“Why, Prabu,” said Martin, when we were alone in the pandapa, “by what
magic words did you manage so easily to tame that savage old gentleman?”
“By inspiring him with a hope, or probability, that the rule of the
Dutch in the Archipelago, or at least in Java and its dependencies, was
approaching its end.”
“More conspiring! By Jingo, it is too bad! We must look after our
heads, Claud.”
“But what _especial_ cause has this chief for hating the Hollanders?” I
asked.
“One that will never be forgotten or forgiven, while any of his
race remain to avenge it. But listen: His father, who was chief or
prince--for he held the latter title--of this same district, having
offended his suzerain the Rajah, had to fly for his life; and this he
did, with his princess and attendants, to a Dutch frigate then cruising
in the straits. Now, the captain--knowing the policy of his Government
was ever to foment the rebellion of the principal vassals against their
princes--received them on board with courtesy. Unfortunately, however,
forgetting the fastidiousness of Orientals in all matters connected
with their women, he welcomed the princess, after the fashion of his
own countrymen, by kissing her neck. Alarmed at such--to her--strange
proceeding, the lady screamed aloud; whereupon her husband, believing
that an insult had been intentionally offered to his wife, rushed
upon the commander and stabbed him to the heart, while, at the same
time, his followers commenced ‘a muck’ among the crew. The Europeans,
however, after a hard fight, put the prince and his people to death,
and sent the head of the former to the rajah from whose anger he had
fled.”
“Well,” said Martin, “the Dutch may have committed a great number of
unpardonable sins in Java; but in that case they were decidedly in the
right, and the savage only met with his deserts.”
“God is great!--_who knows?_” returned Prabu; for he would upon no
occasion admit the Dutch to be in the right. “What is written is
written,” he added. “It will have a good ending, for it has raised an
unquenchable thirst for vengeance in the hearts of a powerful tribe.”
But, I have said, we were invited to a banquet. Well, it consisted
of fish, fruits, sweetmeats, and a spirit distilled from rice, of
which, toward the latter part, the chiefs partook plentifully--a rare
occurrence with the generally abstemious islanders; but, then, our host
had become greatly excited, as we shall hereafter see, at the cause
of Prabu’s visit. The most entertaining portion, however, to Martin
and I was the performances of the dancing-girls. The remainder of the
viands having been removed, there entered the large hall some twelve
very pretty but oddly-attired girls; each wore a plumed head-dress,
glittering with spangles and gold--pendants of the same metal,
which reached to the shoulders--jeweled necklaces--a jacket richly
embroidered with the precious metal, beneath which was a waistcoat of
the same material--loose trousers of cloth of gold, well bespangled,
fastened at the waist by a broad golden girdle, and at the knees by a
cord, from which hung golden bells, that tinkled at every movement.
Their arms and legs were uncovered, with the exception of adornments of
gold, such as bracelets, anklets, and leglets. Then each girl was armed
with a richly-mounted sword, and carried a fan with bells attached.
As they entered the hall, they sang the glories of their master,
keeping time upon a small drum or tom-tom; but approaching his seat,
they fell upon their knees, and saluted him by joining their hands and
lifting up their heads; then they began to dance, with one knee upon
the ground, gracefully bending their arms and bodies. After this, they
danced upright, keeping time with their drums; then they would place
their hands upon their swords, or pretend to be taking aim with a bow;
and they went through many other pretty movements, which so interested
us that we regretted when the entertainment was concluded.
“In their love of dancing,” writes Crawford, “the Indian islanders
outvie the French. It is a passion with them, and not only adopted
as an amusement, but mingled with the more serious affairs of life;
but their dancing is not like that of the savages of America,
nor that practiced in Western India. Like the latter, they have
professed dancing-women, who exhibit for hire, but, unlike them, they
occasionally dance themselves; and in public processions, and even more
serious occasions, dancing forms a portion of the solemnities.
“As for the style of it, as in all Asiatic countries, it is grave,
stately, and slow; it is not the legs, but the body, and especially the
arms down to the very fingers, that are employed: dexterity, agility,
or liveliness are never attempted. To the gravity and solemnity natural
to the inhabitants of a warm climate, any display of agility would seem
as indecorous as their stately and sluggish minuet-dancing appears
insupportably tiresome to the more volatile and lively tempers of
Europeans.
“The dancing of the Indian islanders may be considered as of three
kinds: their serious dances on public occasions, the private dances of
individuals at festivities, and the exhibitions of professed dancers.
Of the first kind are the war-dances: if a warrior throws out a
defiance to his enemy, it is done in a dance, in which he brandishes
his spear and creese, pronouncing an emphatic challenge; if a native
of the same country runs a muck, ten to one but he braves death in a
dancing posture. When they swear eternal hatred to their enemies, or
fidelity to their friends, the solemnity is accompanied by a dance;
all orders executed in the presence of a Javanese monarch, on public
occasions, are accompanied by a dance; when a message is to be conveyed
to the royal ear, the messenger advances with a solemn dance, and
retreats in the same way. The ambassadors from one native prince in
Java to another follow the same course, when coming into and retiring
from the presence of the sovereign to whom they are deputed. At fights
between the buffalo and tiger, when the persons whose business it is
to let the latter loose from its cage have performed their duty, and
received the royal nod to retire (an occasion, one would think, when
dancing might be omitted), they do so in a slow dance and solemn strut,
with some risk of being devoured by the tiger in the midst of their
performances.
“Previous to the introduction of the Mahomedan religion, it appears
to have been the custom among all the Oriental islanders, for men of
rank to dance at their public festivities, when heated with wine. This
exhibition appears to have been a kind of war-dance; the performer
drew his creese, and went through all the evolutions of a mock fight.
At present the practice is most common among the Javanese, with every
chief of whom dancing, far from being considered scandalous, as among
the people of Western India, is held to be a necessary accomplishment.
Respectable women never join in it, and with that sex dancing is
confined to those whose profession it is. In the most crowded circle of
strangers, a Javanese chief will exhibit in the mazes of the dance with
an ordinary dancing-girl.
“The professed dancers differ little, but in inferiority of skill,
from the common dancing-girls of Hindostan: those who have been often
disgusted with the latter will find still less to interest them in
the former. The music to which the dancing is performed is indeed,
generally, incomparably better than that of Western India, although the
vocal part of it is equally harsh and dissonant: now and then a single
voice of great tenderness and melody may be found, but whenever an
effort is made at raising it for the accommodation of an audience, it
becomes harsh and unmusical. The songs sung on such occasions are often
nothing more than unpremeditated effusions; but among the Javanese,
to whom I am now more particularly alluding, there are some national
ballads that might bear a comparison with the boasted odes of the
Persian minstrels.”
“Why, Prabu, man, what ails thee?--what makes you look so savage?” said
I, as, towards the middle of the next day, the captain returned to us,
after having paid a morning visit to the palace.
“The Chief has gone mad: he has summoned his principal men to a council
of war, to solemnly declare his vengeance against the Dutch.”
“Well,” asked Martin, “how can _you_ complain, my friend, when you
incited him, by intimating that his suzerain, the Rajah, had already
joined the conspiracy?”
“But this demonstration will be premature. Should it become known in
Batavia, it will ruin all; a great blow has to be struck, but in the
dark.”
“Well, Prabu, I wish no harm to you, but, honestly and candidly, I
_do_ wish I was out of this matter altogether,” said Martin--adding: “I
don’t mind fair, open fighting, but blows in the dark are only dealt by
cowards.”
“The Sahib Martin,” he replied, “is prudent; he shall have his desire
when we reach the mainland; but this savage Macassar!”
“Macassar!” I exclaimed. “Why, Prabu, he is a Balinese chief.”
“He was born in Bali, sahib, but he is descended from a prince of
Macassar, who, upon the conquest of that country by the Hollanders,
fled with the whole of his tribe, and, by the permission of the then
Rajah of Blilling, settled upon this coast and became governor and
chief of the district. But listen,” added Prabu, as we heard the sound
of drums and brass instruments; “the chief and his principal officers
are about to take the oaths. Will the sahibs go with me?”
“Of course, we will see the whole play out, if you will permit us,”
said my brother; and then we went to one of the oddest sights I have
ever seen, either before that time or since. I will describe it as
briefly as possible:--
Some fifty or sixty sub-chiefs, or leaders of divisions, were assembled
near the palace in full war-costume, each having around his brow a
white fillet--the symbol of hostility: at their head stood the grand
chief, and his son Mahomed. At a signal from the former, a huge banner
was unfurled; this having been sprinkled with blood, the Chief dipped
his creese in a vessel of water and then drank of the liquid; after
this he began to dance around the banner with wild, fantastic motions,
brandishing all the while his bare weapon, as if about to plunge it
into the breast of an enemy; then coming to a standstill, and holding
his creese upwards, he proclaimed war and eternal hatred against their
oppressors, the Dutch. “And witness, ye men of Bali,” he concluded;
“should I violate this oath, I pray that this, my favorite and beloved
creese, may prove more injurious to me than to my foe--that my head may
be cut off and left upon the field of battle, and that my heart may be
devoured by the enemy.”
The ceremony being thus opened, a ring was formed, in which, one by
one, the chiefs performed an extraordinary series of dumb motions--a
kind of foreshadowing of all they intended to do to the enemy. The
following description, however, of the performances of one will answer
for all:--
“A chief rushes into the ring with a wild shriek and a ferocious
look, with creese in one hand and spear in the other; he traverses
the ground, leaping from one side of the ring to the other, and, in a
menacing posture, bids defiance to some fancied enemy; then he stamps
his feet upon the ground and shakes his head, distorts his features,
and makes his teeth chatter again; then he throws his lance, and with
his creese hacks and hews at the airy enemy, shrieking all the time. At
length, nearly tired out, he flies to the middle of the ring, where,
seeming to have his foe at his mercy, with two or three desperate
cuts, off goes the imaginary head of the imaginary enemy, and he
withdraws triumphantly and amidst the plaudits of his comrades.”
“It’s really very funny,” said my brother, in his usual flippant way.
“Hush, Martin! The Chief is going to speak,” said I, with great
difficulty preventing a laugh.
The Chief then--having first bestowed a little particularly strong
abuse upon the Hollanders--turning to Prabu, said:
“Observe, O thou servant of the great and patriotic Pangeran of Pugar,
and ambassador to our royal master the Rajah of Blilling--I am prepared
to live and die with you; I am as a spear in your hands, ready to do
execution in whatever quarter directed.”
“Observe,” cried the son, “I shall be in your hands like a skein of
white thread, ready to assume whatever color the skill of the dyer may
please to give it;” and so they continued, one after the other, till
Prabu, had he not known their natures, might have believed himself at
the head of an army of conquerors.
This comedy being finished, all present were invited to a banquet at
the Chief’s house, and then followed a tragic scene of a very revolting
nature; but, inasmuch as it exemplifies the manners and customs of
these wild people, I must relate it. The dishes having been emptied and
removed, and the dancing-girls having concluded their performances, the
Chief arose and addressed a priest:
“My elder brother,” said he, “last night I had a dream, in which the
whole of the accursed Dutch appeared to me in the shape of women. Tell
me, I pray thee, its interpretation?”
“My lord,” replied the priest, “the dream is good; for women imply
prosperity, and your expedition will have a fortunate termination.”
“It is good--now let my brother drink deep,” said the Chief; “for
numerous shall be the baskets full of heads the Dutch Governor shall
receive, but this time those of friends instead of enemies.”
And then commenced a scene which beggars description. With every fresh
draught, they boasted more and more of their prowess; then, when there
was scarcely one amongst them who could have stood upon his legs had
he tried, thousands and thousands of Hollanders were slain with tongue
and gesticulations; but the Chief exceeded them all in swagger, and, as
liars are said sometimes to believe their own lies by the frequency of
telling them, so he began to believe himself a demi-god.
“Who among my people,” he cried, frantically, “will dare say there is a
Dutch sword, or bullet, that can harm their lord?”
“Our great Chief is invulnerable!” all present cried.
“It is so, my brethren--you have spoken rightly. Behold!” The
whole company arose with cries of alarm, but it was too late. The
savage, intoxicated to madness by enmity and wine, had tested his
invulnerability by thrusting his creese into his breast: the result
was a failure, for he had fallen dead. But let me draw a veil over
the tragic scene, merely informing my readers that such acts are not
uncommon among those wild races. As a rule, temperate and abstemious to
a degree, when intoxicated they become--as, indeed, do all people in a
greater or lesser degree--maniacs.
Very cruel are the customs of the Macassars, or people of Celebes, from
whom this chief was descended. When an enemy falls dead, or wounded,
the victor strikes off his head, and, placing it on the point of a
spear, bears it away in triumph. “This, however,” says Crawford, “is
far from being the utmost length to which they proceed, for on some
occasions they actually go so far as to devour the heart of an enemy,
either to gratify revenge or aggravate their usual ferocity. This
practice is by no means unfrequent, and there is hardly a warrior of
note who, at some period or other, has not partaken of this horrid
repast. I saw several who had done so, and one person coolly observed,
that it did not differ in taste from the offal of a goat or buffalo;
but another, less hardened, assured me that he did not sleep for three
nights after his meal, so haunted was his imagination at the thought of
what he had done.”
The Javanese, however, when their hostile passions are aroused, are
not less ferocious than their neighbors. In the last great war in
Java, Mangkunâgoro, having gained an advantage over the Dutch and
the Susunan, announced his success to his coadjutor, Mankubumi, by
letter, transmitting to him at the same time _the ears_ of the enemy
killed or taken in action. The latter prince, having read the letter,
applauded the chief for the victory he had gained and for the ears he
had transmitted, which he forthwith directed to be sliced, and stewed
along with the flesh of buffaloes, and with spices. This mixture he
gave to his people, directing them to eat it with rice; he did this, he
said, because his followers were not present in the fight, and had not
obtained the ears of an enemy in battle, and that, by thus partaking of
them as food, they might not be put to shame because they were absent
from the fight: he wished to inspire his army with the same feelings
as if they had been actually engaged. The people ate, one and all, and
bowed in respectful silence.
But whatever we may think of the savages, what can be said in defense
of the _civilized_ Hollanders, who not only, as we have seen on another
occasion, remained quiet spectators of the horrors perpetrated amongst
the contending princes, but were themselves in the habit of receiving
basketfuls of their enemies’ heads as valuable gifts! Imagine, O my
reader, an American official keeping such a diary as the following,
which is a literal transcript:--
“_Thursday, January 29th._--In the morning the Boni interpreter came
to the castle, accompanied by a messenger from Datu Baringang, who
presented to his Excellency, in a basket, four enemies’ heads, said to
be the heads of Kraing Borisala and of three galarangs” (a rajah and
three inferior chiefs).
“_Friday, 30th._--Five heads more were brought to his Excellency this
morning, reported to be those of some chiefs of the enemy, taken
prisoners in the action at Tikere yesterday, when they were defeated,
and pursued, with the loss of fifty men, by Arung Panchana.”